#how do you fucking know what i'm doing for my work you looked at my screens for two seconds than k you so much
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annasellheim · 2 days ago
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So this was on the @writing-prompt-s site- so I'm treating it as a writing prompt. (I can't fucking draw right now due to a busted shoulder, so I'm doing a bunch of them because I'm alone, hurt, and sad, and they're fun).
Anyway, the story:
I sat down next to him. I looked at my former student, now an adult. A brilliant engineer. I remembered him. I had really liked this kid. The man in front of me was impressive as hell too. It didn't surprise me at all.
"I'm really, really sorry this hurt you. That I hurt you. What I was trying to do was show you some techniques. My goal was that, later, after you learned them, you could deviate from them and make your own thing.
We have a set of guidelines of things we need to teach. It's a mandatory curriculum, with national guidelines, just like math or science or whatever. But it varies from state to state. And who the hell knows what they do in private school. And the curriculum isn't focused on self expression as much as teaching you how to use fine motor skills and..."
Shit, stop it Anna. You don't need to keep justifying yourself.
I try to remember when he had moved away during the school year. I wonder if I hadn't gotten to the point in the spring semester where I gave my students more lee way, to experiment and deviate from the techniques I showed them. To let them decorate their dishes any way they wanted. To make trees and flowers for different seasons. I wondered if he had been part of one of my first classes, before I figured out how to create a really solid curriculum.
Regardless, I could have been clearer about it. I was new to teaching when I had him as a student, I know that much. I was overwhelmed, and honestly, barely keeping it together for the first, like, 4 years I taught. And there were 20-30 students in my classes. It took me a a while to figure out what works and what doesn't in the classroom.
The most important thing was this man in front of me. He was way quieter and more hesitant than the kid I remembered. I hope I didn't do that to him, but I'm was probably reading too much into it.
I took a sip of my coffee.
"You know what's cool tho? The shit you've been doing at work-"
He looked surprised and snorted.
"What?"
"You swore."
It was my turn to laugh. "Yeah, to be fair I'm not in classroom mode right now.
Anyway, the stuff you've been doing at work, it all sounds like it takes a ton of creativity to accomplish."
"I never thought of it that way..."
"Well, you've been on the forefront of a bunch of stuff because you think outside the box. I'm glad I didn't rob you of that."
We sat next to each other on the bench. He was thinking it over. I was trying to not dwell on the fact that he brought this up, that he had carried this pain with him for 20 years.
"Do you still make art?"
"No, not since elementary school, since my last-"
"Your last required art class. Got it."
I gave him a side eyed glance.
"You know you can get back into it at any time, right?"
He was taken aback, he obviously had never considered it.
I smiled. I've had this conversation before, many many times.
"It's not like a sport or something. You can start at literally any point in your life, you don't need to be young and in peak physical condition. Art ain't basketball.
The cool thing too is that you can choose what you want to make, you're an adult. Nothing in art is required for you to learn. You can pick any class you want, or no class at all."
I gave him my business card.
"If you shoot me an email, I can give you some books to read for you to get started. Not to teach techniques, but exercises that help get you back to the point where you just make stuff. I think a LOT of people stop making art for all kinds of reasons, not just because of a novice teacher. There's been a bunch of stuff that's come out recently to try to help adults make art again. y'know, to recapture the joy of it."
We said our goodbyes. I really hope he thinks it over and reaches out.
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Once a little boy went to school. One morning The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. He liked to make all kinds; Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats; And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make flowers.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make beautiful ones With his pink and orange and blue crayons. But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And it was red, with a green stem. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flower Then he looked at his own flower. He liked his flower better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just turned his paper over, And made a flower like the teacher’s. It was red, with a green stem.
On another day The teacher said: “Today we are going to make something with clay.” “Good!” thought the little boy; He liked clay. He could make all kinds of things with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!” “It is not time to begin!” And she waited until everyone looked ready. “Now,” said the teacher, “We are going to make a dish.” “Good!” thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes. And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!” “And I will show you how.” And she showed everyone how to make One deep dish. “There,” said the teacher, “Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish; Then he looked at his own. He liked his better than the teacher’s But he did not say this. He just rolled his clay into a big ball again And made a dish like the teacher’s. It was a deep dish.
And pretty soon The little boy learned to wait, And to watch And to make things just like the teacher. And pretty soon He didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happened That the little boy and his family Moved to another house, In another city, And the little boy Had to go to another school.
The teacher said: “Today we are going to make a picture.” “Good!” thought the little boy. And he waited for the teacher To tell what to do. But the teacher didn’t say anything. She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boy She asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?” “Yes,” said the little boy. “What are we going to make?” “I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher. “How shall I make it?” asked the little boy. “Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher. “And any color?” asked the little boy. “Any color,” said the teacher. And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy
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hansoeii · 3 days ago
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Hullo! I’ve been watching a bunch of your Timelapses and I was wondering how do you always come up with the colours for your pieces? They’re always so cohesive and pleasing to look at (I almost exclusively work in greyscale so if I’m using colour it’s always a lucky guess and it never looks quite right)
Hey there!
I have to be honest that most of the time I don't actually know what I'm doing and that I have no idea how most of my pieces are gonna turn out. My work process is usually based on "Fuck around and find out", haha. I'm happy to know that it apparently doesn't come across that way, though.
A lot of it comes very naturally to me simply because I've been drawing non-stop for so long, but I can give you some small tips that really help me:
1. Have as many references as possible!
Here's what my reference sheet looked like for the Jayvik piece:
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It helped me a lot to understand the overall color scheme I wanted to convey. Lots of very cold tones, pinks and very light blues and greens. These colours sorround Jayce and Viktor throughout all of season 2 and I wanted to keep them, especially since in my piece they are lying in the glowing hexcore.
Don't shy away from using references, get as many as you possibly can! Look at other poeple's art too and try to understand how they work with colours.
2. Work with complementary colours!
Since I paint a lot of romantic illustrations I want them to look pleasing and comforting, which I can accomplish by using complementary colours! You see this a lot with couples that are blue and red coded, for example. And I wanted to do the same thing in the Jayvik piece! For that I used the highlights in their hair!
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Viktor's highlights are a soft pink hue.
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While Jayce's are a soft blue hue.
The colour wheel works perfect for figuring out if two colors compliment each other because they are literally right across from one another!
3. It doesn't have to be true to life.
Pretty self-explanatory, but I thought I'd add it in here anyways. It's important to understand how colour and light works, but you don't always have to follow the rules. Does the rim light look cool but it makes zero sense? Who cares! Keep the cool rim light! Just have fun and fuck around.
4. A little trick to make your life easier!
I'm not excatly the best at colour theory, I still struggle with it quite a bit, but here's a little trick I like to use from time to time:
If you want all your colours to look coherent, take one specific color as your flat colour. Choose a hue that you would like your piece to have. Like this:
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Now you choose whatever colours your characters have and paint them in. For example, here are the skin colours I chose for Jayce and Viktor:
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Looks off, right? These colours don't fit the overall piece at all. So what do we do?
Turn down the opacity! It's that easy, wahoo!
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I went from 100 Opacity to 72 for this specific illustration. And look at that!
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It's so much nicer already! Now you know what colours to use as your actual flats! Just repeat this with every other part of your illustration and you'll have a great starting point. :)
I really hope this was helpful! I'm not an actual teacher and I don't have a proper illustration degree, so some things might not be completely accurate, but I thought I'd try my hand at this anyways!
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gothhabiba · 3 days ago
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@ anon
I think it might be actually dangerous to publish your ask, but I'm sure from my response people will be able to tell what it's about anyway.
You're full of actual, absolute shit if you're pretending not to know by now that verification processes to ensure the legitimacy of Ghazzawin's fundraisers have been undertaken, and that details about what these processes entail have been shared by several people. Several people, some of them currently in Gaza, put themselves through countless hours of work video-calling people, judging their knowledge of dialectical Arabic, seeing their faces and their children's faces and their living conditions, seeing IDs and bank information, asking invasive, personal questions that they didn't want to be asking & that the people responding probably didn't want to be answering, and physically visiting people in Gaza and video-recording their interactions, just so that people like you could be sure that these fundraisers were legitimate. If you're ignoring all of the blood & tears that went into that process just so you can hand-wring about scams, no one needs to be concerned with convincing you of the legitimacy of anything, because you were never going to donate to these people anyway. You are just looking for any plausible-sounding excuse not to do what you already didn't want to do.
If, by some miracle, you actually didn't know about the verified fundraiser spreadsheet (which is frankly still blameable bc, where on earth have you been?), then there it is. The post of mine that you're referring to never even mentioned responding to asks; using this spreadsheet is an absolutely valid, reasonable way of donating directly to families.
Now let me treat some of your statements as though they were questions (which, they were not).
How do people in Gaza have internet access?
Internet infrastructure in Gaza is very robust (e.g. in what cables are made of, how deep they're buried, amounts of redundancy in the system, &c.) because they have been getting bombed by Israel all the fucking time for decades, so they expect this infrastructure to be put through a lot. There have still--if you've been following the situation at all--been several outages caused by damage that Ghazzawin have needed to repair. Though I do have to say that I find it odd that you doubt Ghazzawin have internet access, but also say that you buy eSims...?
A lot of people right now are indeed connected via eSim, which to my understanding only need to connect to wifi once, right when they're activated. People put themselves at risk to connect to eSims because they need to get a good wifi signal, which usually means walking for several miles trying to find high ground. One of my contacts once urgently called me (this is the only time he hadn't just texted) because he had been told his friend had found a signal and so they needed an eSim right then, before they went back to their tent.
I've been trying for some time to connect another of my contacts in Gaza to an eSim, but we're not having success. At Crips for eSims for Gaza they / we (I'm on the server getting advice and helping out but I'm not using their funding; I'm using what people on tumblr have given me to purchase eSims with) keep a constantly updated sheet of which eSim providers use which networks and which networks work in which areas--because the situation is constantly changing. Because my contact doesn't have an eSim on a personal phone, she has to go to a central location to be allotted three hours of internet access from someone who has managed to get connected. Lots of people, on their fundraising posts and pages, specify exactly how they've gotten internet access, how difficult it's been for them to get it, and how stressful it is to be relying on this tenuous connection, spending hours away from their families (at high risk of being shot at by IOF soldiers the whole time), just to message people for hours straight and then go home again.
2. How do people in Gaza have tumblr accounts?
This is a stupid question. Anyone with an email address who is capable of picking a username and password can make a tumblr account. I have personally helped several of my contacts in Gaza with the process.
3. How do people in Gaza know to come into people's tumblr accounts?
This is also a stupid question. I don't really see how you could ask this question if you saw Palestinians as, like, real humans beings. You understand that people talk to each other, yes? Like with words? As soon as a few people had success fundraising to evacuate Gaza on tumblr (nearly a year ago... this news has had a lot of time to spread), obviously they told other people about it.
One of the ways that Israel conducts its genocidal war is through the destructiveness of frustration and boredom. It's a strange situation because everything is extremely dire, urgent, terrifying, and dirty, but there's also seldom anything to do. People are singing, telling stories, going to the beach, inventing games and contests, to entertain children, but also to entertain themselves. And this is the situation--with a bunch of desperate, bored people packed into a tiny piece of land--this is the situation that you think it's impossible for people to talk to each other in? Come on.
If you want to donate to Anera and World Food Kitchen and buy eSims, that's fantastic. Please do that. But if you are as ignorant of the particulars of what this situation is like as your ask makes you appear, then I hope you refrain from speaking on what the situation is like.
I've been nattering on for a long time so here's my call to action:
Decide what you're capable of giving right now, or the next time you get paid
Scroll down on the vetted fundraiser spreadsheet and find someone very low on funds, or with injured children who urgently need treatment or evacuation, and give that money.
AND / OR give it to the PCRF or the IRW
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alchemistc · 1 day ago
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Part One
Oh, I've got plenty to be thankful for
I've got eyes to see with
Ears to hear with
Arms to hug with
Lips to kiss with
Someone to adore
-bing crosby
He keeps waiting for someone to say something. To accuse him of lingering where he doesn't belong, or remind him he'd never actually made it all the way in. To tell him to go home, maybe get a halfhearted promise to let him know how Buck is at some point.
Maddie lays an exhausted head on his shoulder and Bobby sneaks him a slice of pumpkin pie he's apparently been hiding in the tote at his feet. Hen tosses him a power bank with a lightning cord and Karen makes a joke about his holiday attire.
When the coffee comes, Howie takes the trip to the lobby with him, pulls out his wallet and does his damnedest to strong arm Tommy into letting him tip the haggard looking girl another twenty bucks on top of the fifty Tommy'd figured was appropriate for having to balance a literal stack of hot beverages from the parking lot on Thanksgiving. She eyes them both with a smile and Tommy is more compelled the grab the drink carriers from her tired arms than stop Howie.
They're halfway back when Howie purposely slows his pace, and Tommy fights the urge to pick his up and avoid whatever's coming down on him. "So. Was this the wake up call you needed, or can I expect Buck to order a freezer on a Black Friday deal for my garage to store more baked goods?"
He doesn't know what that means.
He can extrapolate, though. "He's been baking?"
"Tommy, I cannot stress enough exactly how much he's been baking."
He'd tried his hand at a few things here and there, but Tommy's used to experimental chef Evan Buckley, not baking Evan Buckley. To be fair, if he'd seen Evan working a KitchenAid, apron tied loose and flour on a cheekbone, Tommy doubts he'd have actually had the time to finish whatever he had planned. That was then, of course.
"What was he doing on that trail, Howie?" That, too, he could maybe extrapolate. He doesn't want to, but he could.
Howie eyes him. Uses his free arm to elbow Tommy in the ribs. "You were the first person he ever invited to a 118 Thanksgiving, you know. My guess? He wasn't in the mood to be reminded of it while there was no room in the oven to bake away his feelings."
Yeah.
Jax had been over the moon when Tommy offered to take his shift, no trades necessary. What would the point have been, when Christmas and New Year's would be unbooked too?
Evan had bribed like six different people to ensure they'd be able to swing dinner on the day. Hobbes had sounded so thrilled to hear Tommy asking for the time off that he'd approved it without even looking at the shift.
"I'm just warning you in advance. The grovelling process is gonna involve eating your weight in loaves, most likely."
And that's that, apparently. No heavy handed warnings, no suspicion about why Tommy hasn't fucked off yet. Like it's some foregone conclusion that Tommy's not gonna panic and bolt a second time. Nothing has changed, yet Tommy gets the feeling they're all expecting some tearful reunion and a return to TommyandBuck.
Tommy slips the tea into Maddie's hands and watches her sniff it in distaste, which is an interesting nugget he'll have to revisit later if -
If.
There's no guarantees, here. That Tommy will be able to articulate how fucking terrified he is, that Evan will understand it. That the two of them will find a way through it together. All he has to go on is a solo hike on a day Evan should have been with family, an apparent bakery full of feelings spread between the 118, and the quiet calm that had washed over him when Eddie prompted him to make a decision.
Feet to the fire, he'd stayed.
---
Maddie's pregnant. It hits him between the eyes right around hour three of sit-and-wait. He's not an idiot, or a fool, and he hasn't spoken to any of these people in weeks so he's not going to announce it to the world, but somewhere in between the sporadic naps on Tommy's shoulder and the way she is attempting (failing) to power through her now cold tea makes him think. She and Bobby had driven here, and it's clear everyone else had been indulging. Maddie's no lush, but he's seen her knock back half a bottle of wine before when she's got nowhere to be.
She excuses herself to the bathroom for a third time, looking a little green, and Tommy ends up locked in a staring contest with Howie that only ends when Tommy mimes zipping his lips.
He still hasn't gotten the story about Eddie and why he's not here.
Bobby and Athena are apparently closing in on a new house.
Howie is less than a year away from having a second kid.
Athena's kids are apparently at Howie and Maddie's, attempting to keep Mara and Jee from destroying the house in the absence of adults.
And Tommy wants.
Wanting has never really been the problem, though. Wanting is the easy part. Wanting doesn't get him over the hurdle of knowing he's not enough. For Evan, for this family he's built that just keeps growing bigger and bigger. It'd been a relief, those first few days after, not to have to wonder which member of the 118 would land in the hospital next, not to have to rearrange something else on his schedule because Evan was convinced he was cursed, or Eddie'd had another shitty call with Christopher.
The relief hadn't lasted. A week in, he'd stayed up all night demolishing the half-bath off his dining room, because he'd been putting it off for months and he'd nearly texted Evan something that was startlingly revealing and left him exposed on all sides. Two weeks in he'd finished grouting the backsplash in his kitchen. And in between, he wondered how Eddie was doing, if he'd made any progress with his son. He'd wondered if Maddie enjoyed the bottle of wine they'd brought back from a spur of the moment trip to Napa. He'd wondered how Nash was doing, if he was readjusting to having his crew and his station back. He wondered how Hen and Karen were, how many things Denny had already gotten stuck in his cast trying to ease an itch.
He'd wondered, and he'd sat in it, and then he'd rewired the shoddy work an electrician had done in his spare room that he kept telling himself he'd get around to.
The wanting never goes away. He just finds new places to put it when he starts to care too much.
"Kinard and Buckley?"
Maddie's still in the restroom. Tommy - has no fucking clue why the nurse is staring at them like they'll just materialize the right people. She sucks in her lips and gives him a dead eyed stare before her eyes dart to his chest. More specifically, the nameplate on his chest.
Tommy blinks.
---
The having is where he's always floundered. Things are temporary. People are temporary. He's always been borrowing. Borrowing time, attention, affection.
For a few months there, he'd really started to think he could handle the having. That he'd get to keep it.
---
"I'm Buckley, he's Kinard," Maddie says from somewhere over his left shoulder, and he turns in time to see her adjusting her jacket, wiping at her lip. She stabilizes, looking unfazed, and stands tall. As tall as she can, at least. "You have news about my brother?"
The nurse glances around the room. No one is bothering to pretend not to be listening. Maddie hovers a wave behind her.
"Ignore the audience, we're all waiting with bated breath to see how obnoxious my brothers going to be. It depends entirely on whether or not he gets pie tonight."
She gives them all a disapproving look. This must not be one of their normal nurses.
Christ. They have normal nurses.
"Well, no pie tonight, but he should be able to eat a sandwich in the morning."
He's fine. He's fine.
Tommy knew going in that most of his injuries were superficial. The ribs had been a concern but with the pain meds and the collar he hadn't really had a chance to exacerbate those injuries. There's no reason he should feel quite so relieved to know that Evan will have a few annoying splints to work around and he'll probably need to rehab his ankle for a couple weeks once it's healed. The concussion isn't ideal, and he'll need help for a few days, but he's fine.
Tommy can feel the tears building.
"He'll likely be out for a few more hours, but I'll let you know when he's set up in a room. Two visitors at a time," she warns. "The concussion will effect his response time. Don't be surprised if he doesn't remember much, loses his train of thought."
Hen shifts somewhere behind him. It feels a bit like she's being held back from correcting the nurse about the normal side effects.
Things move on around him. The nurse leaves, Hen passes a Stanley cup around that definitely isn't filled with water, the normal sigh of relief is released while Maddie drops into the seat next to him with a groan, the team has a strange competition around him to battle for visitor position.
Tommy breathes.
I should go, Tommy thinks to himself, as half the people in the room raise their phones.
His own phone vibrates against his thigh.
A message from Howie, time stamped two minutes - Tommy squints to make sure - two minutes ago, an update on Evan. Another from Eddie reminding them all to give Buck a patent Eddie look from him while they were giving him shit. A selfie of Eddie, with Christopher somewhat reluctantly bending into the picture over his shoulder.
In another thread, he's got three messages from Eddie.
If I have to remove you from this group I'm sending my kid after you with his crutches.
You guys hiked Griffith Park for your Not-A-One-Month-Anniversary-We-Swear date, right?
Send Buck my love. Not like that, though.
Tommy sends back: When the fuck did he add me to his emergency contacts? and then decides he doesn't want to know anyway so he turns off his phone.
---
Maddie goes alone, and Tommy spends the time alternating between tapping his foot against the tile to distraction, and clamping his hand over his knee in an attempt to stop the tapping.
Bobby and Athena go next, then Hen and Karen. Then they're pulling on jackets and promising to save a plate for Buck.
Howie slips away for a few minutes and then returns, looking amused. "You think everyone else got the same greeting?" he asks his wife, who grins tiredly at him, pats his wrist. Her gaze turns to Tommy.
"Should we stay?"
That's a trap of a question. That's an assumption Tommy doesn't have a clue how to handle. He clears his throat. Shakes a few curls loose.
"What makes you think he'd want me to?"
Maddie's perfected the unimpressed eyebrow. It must be a parent thing.
Tommy barely holds in the sigh. "Go enjoy your meal."
---
Evan's been watching the door. It's clear the moment Tommy makes it to the threshold - he presses up, winces, tips sideways just enough to peek around the corner.
"Tommy," he says, and his expression melts.
Tommy's heard some iteration of that name a million times. Tom, from his dad. Tommy, fond and quiet from his mother, who'd never really learned how to speak up before she was gone. Thomas, in school, from teachers annoyed that he wouldn't just apply himself.
He was Kinard, to teammates, then fellow soldiers, to the firefighters he'd worked alongside for a decade before he ever let any of them know him.
No one says his name with quite so much reverence as Evan Buckley. He's convinced himself, over the last few weeks, that he'd been hearing adulation in that tone. But now it just sounds...relieved. Happy.
Evan slumps back and tries to cross his arms in a pout. There are too many cords and wires attached to him for it to work. "I'm pretty sure I'm mad at you," he says, and Tommy steps over the threshold.
---
Hobbes sounds fucking thrilled to find out he's going to be down a pilot for five days.
Evan throws a fit when he finds out Tommy's plan is to sleep on his own couch for the short duration of Evan's stay. Evan wins the proceeding argument and doesn't even complain that Tommy hadn't argued too hard
Bobby brings over enough leftovers to keep them in turkey sandwiches for a week, and Tommy doesn't think to ask how he got Tommy's address.
Tommy breathes. Tommy thinks. Once Evan can hold a train of thought for more than five minutes, Tommy talks.
Evan listens.
---
"So no Christmas," Evan pouts, and Tommy wants to bite it. "And no New Year's."
Tommy shifts a hand over his shoulder, tucks his chin over top of it so he can't see the pout anymore. "We were both already working those anyway."
"Do people do anything to celebrate Presidents Day?"
"Evan."
"Tommy," Evan mocks, and pulls far enough away to catch his gaze. "In the interest of transparency that was mostly a cover so I didn't ask about Valentine's Day."
"Is this you not asking about Valentine's Day?"
His smile is deceptively sweet. "I need help with my sandwich."
Tommy's seen him balancing a glass of water, his phone, two books and a takeout bag in his one good hand. He's absolutely full of shit.
Tommy leans forward to grab the sandwich off Evan's plate for him.
---
"You should stay," Tommy says, an hour after midnight two days into the new year. He's tipsy on his second glass of cheap champagne and he can't think of a reason to keep this in, anymore. Evan crinkles a brow at him.
"I... wasn't planning to go?"
There's a gold crown perched in his curls, and Tommy still hasn't taken the cheap plastic 2025 glasses off. The house is quiet, and there'd been shockingly few fires started by fireworks this year, so he's less tired than he'd expected to be.
"I meant -." Tommy starts, and then pauses. "I meant permanently. You should live here."
Evan laughs. Takes a bite out of his cake, and rolls his eyes, and then...stops. His entire body stills. "What."
It's ridiculous. The very thing that had pushed Tommy up out of his seat just a few months ago, sent him out the loft door with wet eyes and a heaviness in his heart.
"Tommy," Evan prompts, and Tommy catches the hand frozen on the countertop. He'd planned to hold this back, wait until something significant or poignant. But Evan had baked them a red velvet cake and argued with him the entire drive back from dinner about the proper way to fold a towel, and Tommy's tired of denying this isn't everything he's refused to let himself want for decades.
"You don't have to say yes just to confirm you're not breaking up with me," he tries to joke, and it falls flat.
"Tommy," Evan murmurs, quieter but more insistent.
"I'm serious. I want you here. I want -."
"Yes," Evan says, and squeezes his hand before he ducks his head bashfully. "Sorry. Continue."
"I want a life with you." The tears tickle at the back of his throat. He's gonna fucking cry, again. He'd always fucking known opening himself up to this was just an invitation for more tears in his life.
He can't quite convince himself the rest doesn't make them worth it.
"Yes. Again. Tommy, of course." He tips his chin. Purses his lips. "If you're sure."
Tommy swallows down the lump in his throat. He's never been more sure or more terrified of anything in his life. So he tells him so.
The words are like knives, but he works his way through the soreness, fights up past the fear that he's not sure will ever completely go away, and claws past the reminder that it's been a blink of an eye since Tommy walked out on this.
"Well. You can't walk out of your own house," Evan points out when he's finished, and of all things, it's that that snaps the tension of for once in his life prioritizing something other than fucking survival. He tips a grin, curls his elbow to bring their entwined hands to his lips. "It's gonna take years to coordinate another Thanksgiving with everyone," he bemoans, looking suspiciously watery-eyed himself as he holds Tommy's own wet gaze.
Tommy can extrapolate from that.
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annasellheim · 2 days ago
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We're sitting at the table I'm glaring at them. These heroes ("The Big Three" as they are known in the industry) are questioning me? ME? They're questioning ME???
These motherfuckers made me come to the Cape Crusaders big, tacky mansion to justify my actions to them?
The thing that pisses me off the most about their reservations is the fact that what I do IS SO MUCH MORE IMPORTANT than anything they could possibly do. These idiots just punch bad guys in the face and send them to prison, just so they can escape and start the cycle over from scratch.
I've already saved so many more lives than they ever will. I've made more of a positive impact on this planet than anyone will ever know.
Because my power is to stop disasters, and the most effective way to do that is to prevent them.
No one knows how many wars I've stopped before they began, how many diseases I found vaccines for before they became epidemics, how many cities and countries I've helped create infrastructure for so they could avoid being over run by natural disasters.
And my job is made even more difficult than it sounds because no one can truly fathom how bad things would be if I don't use my powers. I have to fight ppl tooth and nail to get it anything to happen because they don't know how bad it'll be if it's not acted on.
No one sees what I see. They don't feel what I feel. They'll never know the particular ache in my chest that somehow has has an entire narrative wrapped in it whenever a potential disaster hits me. An ache that is so powerful that it's made my knees buckle multiple times.
And the feeling doesn't dissipate until the disaster is fully prevented. It means that when I know something needs to be done, I have to make sure it's dealt with, or-
It's destroying me in a way. Doing so much, all the time, with no compensation or recognition.
The heroes at least know about my powers and know that I have nipped a bunch of really bad shit in the bud.
The villains thing has come up before and it's irritating. For years I thought it was because they were lazy and just were angling for help over shit that I didn't have time for, and in the big picture, didn't matter. Asking for even more help than I already provide.
I'm at my limit already.
But looking at these three at this table in this enormous, extravagant kitchen, it hits me how wrong I am.
These heroes don't have my powers. They can't foresee and stop disasters. For all they know, these clowns that rob banks and occasionally attack and murder people, could cause major disasters down the line. I'm not perfect, I can't stop all disasters. I have to sleep and eat and work a fucking day job.
I still feel residual aches from time to time for every disaster I've failed to stop.
They aren't trying to get more free work out of me, they're trying their best to figure out what villains can do major damage in the future.
They're scared.
"So, the way my powers work," I say while leaning back in my chair, "is that at some point, I know something will go from being an issue to a problem to a disaster. I can only intervene when I know it'll be disastrous, otherwise I can't use my powers, it's like they don't exist. Until something goes over the thresh hold of becoming a potential disaster, it's like I have no powers at all."
"How do you know when a disaster is going to happen? Is it like a vision?"
"It's more internal than that- it's like a feeling I guess...I'm not sure how to articulate it."
Huh, no one has ever bothered to ask me anything specific about my powers or the work I do. I don't have a lot of answers if they keep prodding.
"So, yeah, it's not that I'm neutral to villains, it's just all of the ones you guys been dealing with don't-" I yawned "- don't give me that feeling. I'll let you know if it changes."
I put my head in my hands. Fuck, I'm so tired. It's not like I can stop being a hero, I see the alternate world where I don't intervene, I feel it. But I'm so, so tired.
"Go take a nap."
My head shoots up, "What?"
The Masked Crusader (dumb ass name btw, just like his dumbass mansion) says it again, "Go take a nap. I'll make us all dinner. Go use my guest room and pass out for a bit.
Damn it, did I say I was tired out loud? Or was mind reading one of his superpowers? I can't remember, things have been so overwhelming recently, my memory is shot.
"No, the Masked Crusader can't read minds, that's me" Brainiac says.
Oh. Shit. Right.
"We just, we see you burning out, let us support you for once," chimed in the Singing Banshee.
This was not how I was expecting this conversation to go AT ALL.
Banshee continues, "You've got a lot of walls up, probably from years of running yourself into the ground saving thousands of people without any help. So, we're now going to help you."
"That's not a request by the way," the Masked Crusader says as he slides me a glass of water. "We're doing it whether you like it or not."
Shit, I hadn't even realized I was thirsty. Have I drank any water at all today?
And then *BOOM* I get hit with it- the feeling of an impending but preventable disaster. But it's different than any other disasters I "felt" before.
It's me... It's me, in the near future, collapsing and being unable to do anything about, well anything. I won't be able to stop future disasters, hell, I won't be able to function. And the only way to prevent it was to lean on these people.
This is a lot.
I chugged the rest of the water and wiped my mouth.
"Ok, thanks..." I whispered.
It's too much to think about right now. It's too much to feel right now. I'm not used to, I don't know, being taken care of. I don't know how to be supported.
I'll figure out a way to properly navigate this later. Right now I need to lay the hell down.
You're a superhero who specializes exclusively in stopping disasters. The other heroes just don't understand why you need to remain neutral to the villains…
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roosterforme · 3 days ago
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Geriatric Millennial | Rooster x Reader
Bradley loves all things '90s. You don't completely understand it, but you appreciate his spirit.
1000 words
Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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There were certain scenarios that became normal over time when you were in a relationship with a man more then ten years your elder. Sometimes you didn't understand certain movie references. Slang words and jokes occasionally went over your head. He and his friends would often reminisce about trends you'd never witnessed. But Bradley never made you feel bad about it, and you never called him an old-timer unless you were joking.
You were used to these things, but nothing quite prepared you for what you saw when you got home from work. Bradley was relaxing on the couch in something that looked like a bright blue, full body straitjacket with some random vintage headphones on his head.
"What the fuck?" you muttered, inching closer when you realized he was listening to music and hasn't spotted you yet. You glanced around the room, trying to locate the source of disturbing chattering sound that just started, and you tripped over a hard, black ball.
Bradley looked up at you with a smile. "Hey, you're home early." He quickly stood in his weird, fleece outfit and leaned in to give you a kiss, but you leaned away.
"What on earth is happening here?" you asked, standing frozen as he pulled his headphones off.
"What are you talking about?" He looked puzzled by your words but not by all of the weird things in the living room. 
"I'm talking about what you're wearing. And the robotic voice!"
"Oh," he laughed. "This is just my Snuggie."
"Your what?"
He glanced down at himself. "My Snuggie? I found it in a box of my stuff from highschool."
You were still so confused. "What's a Snuggie? And what is that weird sound?"
When his gaze fell to something fuzzy and brown on the couch, you jerked back in shock. "You mean my Furby?"
You glared at the critter and it's enormous, evil eyes. "Is that one of those things from that '80s Gremlins movie you're obsessed with?"
He barked out a laugh like you'd just said the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life. "Baby, no. It's not a Gremlin. It's just a Furby. But imagine if Furby manufactured replica Gremlins... Would have been fascinating." It was starting to sound like he was speaking a foreign language. "I was just listening to Chumbawamba on my Discman and playing with my pogs and my Tomagachi. I literally forgot the Furby was even here."
You were sure you were gaping at him like he had two heads as you reached up to run your palm across his forehead. "Do you have a fever?"
"Huh? No, but I did eat a Kudos bar I found in the box, so I might potentially have an upset stomach later. But it was worth it."
After you pinched the bridge of your nose, you asked, "I'm sorry, but what did you say you were listening to?"
"Tubthumping. By Chumbawamba. You know it, don't you? Pissing the night away, pissing the night away. I get knocked down...." He looked at you in wide eyed shock. "You don't know that song? How is that possible?"
You didn't want to tell him that Chumba whatever wasn't a word. And neither was Snuggie. Not when he looked so adorably baffled. You stroked your fingers across his forehead and down his cheek as you shook your head.
"No, I don't know that song, because I'm not forty like you are. And you look kind of alarming in this thing." You pinched the fleece fabric and pulled it away from his body.
"It's my Snuggie," he muttered. "It was from an Infomercial."
"I don't know what that means." He gasped and you started laughing. "But I would love to sit down with you while you explain it to me. As long as you don't make me eat something from the late 1900s."
He took your hand in his bigger one and and led you toward the couch and the demonic looking Furby. "Okay, but first, you need to listen to this CD. Because Jake told me Chumbawamba is a guilty pleasure, but it's actually really good."
About twenty minutes later, you were wrapped up in the Snuggie, enveloped in softness and Bradley's lingering body warmth. "I love this thing," you told him, burying your face in the fleece. "And yes, Chumbawamba is good, but I like Hoobastank better. And I'm really sorry I accidentally kicked your Magic 8 ball across the floor."
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed your cheek as you skipped a track on his Discman. "That's okay. Hey, do you want to learn how to play pogs? The best part is, I'm not sure there are actually any rules at all."
"Sure," you said with a shrug. "Why the hell not? As long as you lock that Furby away and never let it out ever again."
"Heard."
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 days ago
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Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.
"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.
"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.
"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.
"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.
"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"
"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.
"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"
"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."
"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"
"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."
"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.
"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.
"Was too!" She yelled.
"Was not!" Steve yelled.
"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.
"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.
Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.
"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.
"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.
"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.
"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.
"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."
"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.
"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.
"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.
"You liked it?!" Robin asked.
"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.
"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."
"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.
"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.
"What?" Steve asked.
Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.
"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.
Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.
"I am an idiot," Steve said.
"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.
"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."
"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.
"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."
"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.
"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."
"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.
They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.
"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.
"Something else we have in common," she said.
"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."
"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."
"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.
"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.
"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."
"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."
Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.
"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.
"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."
They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.
"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.
"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.
They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.
Part Two
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skzthelomlhehe · 3 days ago
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Okie sooo I'm like in the middle of tests and work and the progress to my upcoming oneshots have been slow so I thought, "why not make some headcanons?" (Frankly cuz I'm fucking bored of studying and working all the damned time)
Okie so for these little imagines, I was thinking
How your boyfriend!skz would react to you waiting for them in a sexy lingerie after they had a long day at work! [Ot8] {Pt. 1: Hyung Line}
MDNI // includes smut (think y'all can know by the title itself lmao), I'm not exactly sure what warnings to include, just know it's smutty (I'm very sorry I'm highly sleep deprived and running on my 7th coffee today my brain cannot function) // established relationships
Bang Chan
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Ok so like- I just KNOW the man wouldn't even notice. He'd walk in to your shared apartment (idfk), his head hanging with like heavy sighs and he wouldn't even notice what you were wearing when he walks in. I feel like it wouldn't be AFTER he had his shoes off and walking slow, tired steps towards you and then he looks up and drops his jaw like the bag he had in his hand. He'd prolly stutter sumn like, "Y-Y/N...? What are you...?" And not even have the means to say anything else. He would just be standing there worshipping you, basking in your beauty and walk up to you, wrapping his arms around your bare waist nice and gentle and place soft wet kisses everywhere, once again, worshipping you. Feel like even if he's tired, he would savour you in the gentlest way possible and if he had a really bad day, maybe even cry in your arms a little and vent during aftercare (cuz we all know what a damned softie he is and we love him for that)
Lee Know
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For him, I'd say he would just walk in STOMPING cuz he's PISSED (possibly at himself cuz he thinks he doesn't work hard enough or at something or the other that disrupted his usual flow) and he'd just flop on the couch calling out to you probably to cuddle. Maybe even get things heated iykyk and in this case, he'd definitely do the latter. When you walk in wearing that sexy lingerie, his eyes would be wide fixated on you. And seeing him down on the couch in his usual manspread would just get you DRIPPIN'. He would probably scoff at the sight in front of him and flick his fingers motioning you to come and pat on his thighs to get you to sit down and like his little kitten you are, you would obey without a word. He'd probably run his hands all through your body, placing wet kisses, maybe even leaving marks. I'd imagine him saying something like, "what a good kitty. How'd you know I would need just this, hm?" In this husky seductive tone (once again iykyk) and despite how tired he is, I'd think he would take his time eating you up cuz youre his favourite meal~
Changbin
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Would he possibly be walking in looking like he could murder someone? Yes. Will he come home to find you like that and go fucking feral? Absolutely. Will he just absolutely wreck your brains out? DEFINITELY. Do I even have to say anything?? The man is a gentle beast. He's gonna care for you, he's gonna love you, prepare you with foreplay and the moment he gets permission and knows you're ready to take him, he'd go BEAST. And then once you're done, and you'd just be laying there huffing in his arms, he would loudly yap about his day and by the end of it, let you know how much he loves you and appreciates your efforts cuz you unintentionally just made him the happiest man alive.
Hyunjin
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Another guy who would worship you, really. When he gets home tired and groggy to see you sitting like a beautiful sculpture who was sculpted with extra care, extra love and extra details, he would fold. Probably melt in your arms telling you how crazy gorgeous you looked and how he would take his time painting you with his cum and then later after making a mess out of you, he'd take his time engraving your image both on his canvas and in his mind. No matter how tired he was from the day full of work, once you guys were done with all that, he would sit down on his painting stool with his large canvas in front of him while you laid there mindlessly filled and covered with his fluids. He'd look at you like a work of art, a once in a lifetime masterpiece created JUST for him while he keeps repeating sweet nothings as he paints you.
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thesacrificialdove · 1 day ago
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THE BITCHING PROJECT
[ patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms ]
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— it's like you were secretly asking for this !! degration kink, rough sex, dubious consent, deflowering, light dumbification, semi-public sex, manipulation ✧ ft.: yandere student council ✧ cast: nerd f!reader
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His hand grasps your hair as you choke around his girth. There's tears brimming in your eyes. Anxiety and confusion are washed away by the growing arousal in your stomach—this isn't normal. You've never been treated like this before. He's using your mouth like a ragdoll.
"Fuck," he moans, obsessing over the way your unexperienced tongue lays flat on the underside of his cock. "Such a good fucking bitch. How does it feel with your nose buried in my cock and not some books, huh?"
Nothing prepared you for the way this man is in the dim light: he's unlike his smile like a warm setting sun, hands tender to the brief passing touch, and voice an echo of hope and cheer.
He's fucking your throat like it's his newest assignment. Studiously, he memorises the plump of your lips and the heat in your throat. There's something primal yet meticulous about how he thrusts into your mouth. It's like he's thought this over and over again.
Your hands struggle for grip on his hips; he won't relent in his pace. Dizziness presents as you can't think straight—his cock the only thing that you can think of.
A guttural moan leaves him. "Can't believe you'd fall for some s-stupid shit like this. Now you're all fucking mine—" he pulls out, the head of his cock on your lips—"you like that, huh? Like belonging to me? I'll make you forget about your classes and I'll keep your cunt strapped on my cock instead."
There's a string of saliva that connects his cock to your lips. He plays with it, having fun smearing it all over your chin. The humiliation is tattooed in your brain.
You agreed to meet him because the Dean planned to give you the scholarsip—something you've been working so hard for. It's a lie. How could you have known someone from the student council would lie to you just to get their dick wet?
"Hey, hey," he pulls you up, sitting you on a desk. "What are you thinking about, baby? You're thinking too hard. Come on, I know you feel good."
And you do. Because after all of this, you still got a big fucking crush on him.
"S-stop it, please," you try to say. "I'm... I'm sorry if I did anything wrong but—"
He laughs. "You did nothing wrong. I love you, I do. But you're just to gullible. You have to know how adorable you look when you think everything you want is going to be handed over to you on a plate."
Red paints your face. Your heart churns at his words but he's standing between your legs with his cock wetting the inside of your thighs. Your cunt is being exposed with an easy pull of your panties to the side. The conflict of arousal and humiliation is too much to handle.
"How about this, hm? I'm going to fuck you better and tomorrow, let's see you beg for the Dean's cock to get that scholarship?"
There's contradictions on your tongue. It's taken out of you when he pulls your hips—his cock sliding between your folds and fucking you raw.
"F-fuck!" You cry. It's too big. His cock stretches you more than your fingers ever had, easily breaking the littlest resistence your hymen had. It makes you cry. Your heart hammers against your ears. It pulses in time with your cunt convulsing around him.
He's breathing against your cheeks; with the way he's out of breath, it's like he's enjoying taking your virginity like this. "Holy... fuck—did you never have a guy in here before?" he asks, as if he needs confirmation. "You're so fucking tight. I need you to loosen up for me, babe."
Not a single effort was made to get you to relax. He pulls back and fucks you right in, ignoring your pained little whimpers as it's being overshadowed by your moans. You're conflicted but he's so assured. Though your brain runs wild, your pussy sucks him in and is getting wetter by the second.
"So fucking good," he moans. "Tight fucking slut for me."
"I've never—agh! Never... had—!"
He chuckles as he bruises your hips with his hold. "I can fucking tell, baby. Shit. I can feel your cute little pussy hug my cock so tight. You love it so bad, don't you? I bet you fucking waited to be defiled by a cock this big."
You can barely muster a breath, nonetheless a word to deny him. It’s cruel how he pistons his hips. Your legs are in the air, toes clenching as half of his cock barely breaches inside of you. You’re gripping him with a vice, the pain dulling with the hot moans he breathes through your skin.
“God, that’s it,” his mouth instinctively opens as he spreads your folds open. Your pussy is spread. on the girth, his eyes trained onto where his cock disappears inside of you. You can tell he’s lost himself in the sensation when he has to swallow down his own spit.
He’s moaning, a growl emitting from him when you squeeze him. “Loosen the fuck up!” His hand presses against your stomach, trapping you on the wooden desk. “God, shit. For someone eager to take a cock in you’re so not prepared.”
The new angle just rubs your g-spot. A strangled moan involuntarily leaves you, his response being a dark grin spreading on his face. Knowing now, he continues to rubs up that spot. You want to pull your legs together but it’s tightly locked in his grasp. Toes curling, you tense up as he thrusts faster inside of you.
“S-so…” you gasp, hands gripping the edge of the table as you move with the force of his thrusts. “So fucking—so fucking good, haaah..!”
With each thrust, you lose yourself to the pleasure. Your cunt perfectly welcomes him in, even sucking him inside just to keep it rubbing against those nerves. You don’t remember a time feeling this good. The stretch is almost gone. Broken cries of pleasure are being punched out of you. He’s merciless and chases his own high, yet you’re being dragged along as you feel yourself soak and leak.
“Fuck,” he mutters, “I knew you’d love being fucked by me. I’ve been…. shit! I’ve been seeing you shake your cute little ass since you came. here. Knew you were so desperate to be claimed by me.”
He groans low in his throat. Swiftly, he throws your legs together on one side of his shoulders, fucking his cock deep inside of you. The new angle reaches further, your legs shaking from the intense feeling of being used like a toy for him. Your pleasure is undeniable. If you could see yourself, you would see your wet cunt drooling as your face is molded into a face of intoxication.
You can’t help it anymore. The slow yet deep thrusts spreads tingles from your pussy to the rest of your body. “‘m close…” you mutter, struggling to find diction. “So close—hng!”
“I didn’t hear you, “ he pulls on your hair from the roots, tugging it with enough force to electrocute your nerves there. “I can’t fucking hear you with your pussy gushing all over me.”
Cheeks turning a bright red, you try to cover yourself as he thrusts deep and short for emphasis. You can hear yourself make wet sounds with each movement. His words only make you wetter.
Trying to gather yourself, you take a deep breath with a hand over head your head. “I wanna cum, I need it so bad please… Need to cum on. your cock so b-bad!” You cry, surprised you could even form words when all you can think. about is that hot rod inside of you.
He’s forgiving. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs in relief as he continues his animalistic thrusts. The desk creaks each time and you would be worried for its durability if not for his hand lowering to play with your clit.
“Cum for me, cum for your new owner.”
The cock breaching your once-virgin pussy and the your clit being fondled only ushers you closer and closer to an orgasm. You couldn’t even warn him. With both hands reaching for his shoulders, a moan leaves you so loud you’re so everyone in the hallway could hear you.
You’re shivering. Your body is worn out and his cock pulls out of you—your orgasm flowing out as his own spurts on your face to your neck. He had clumsily aimed at your face, the angle awkward with your body half sat on the table. But the liquid splashed to your a bit of your lips, the taste of his release odd yet so erotic.
“Shit,” he mutters, the relief washing over him. You can see the satisfaction in his face; the slight upward tilt of his smile, the heavy breathing, his eyes examining every part of your body, all of it a testament to his amusement to having just defiled you.
There’s no need to speak. Finally, for the first time, he pushes his lips against yours.
In your years living, you haven’t given away your first kiss. In this moment, he had successfully taken two first times with you. His kiss reflects his previous desire to make his mark in your cunt. Breath hot, he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and is determined to lick every part of it.
You’re weak in his grasp. Every limb is numb and your pussy is still tingling. He’s kissing you how he wants as you simply struggle to breathe correctly. Your head is dizzy. There’s a cloud within your thoughts, simply unable to comprehend anything that is happening.
With a bite to your lower lip, that grounds you back to reality. He laughs into the kiss before placing his lips on your neck.
“So fucking dumb now,” he laughs, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reward for servicing my cock.”
Being his broken-in slut doesn’t seem so bad.
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UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley
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@ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 this story is original and is not allowed to be shared without credits. do not plagiarise, feed to ai, or claim as yours.
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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago
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Steamy Nights—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
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summary— you’re a sheltered college student who recently got your first job as a housekeeper at a fancy hotel. you stumble upon Nicholas Chavez while cleaning and he invites you to his hot tub in his room where one thing leads to another. based on this request.
warnings— age gap(reader is 19) praise kink, slight body worship, fingering, oral(f!receiving), daddy kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, creampie, aftercare.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
It had been a few weeks since you left your hometown and the ever-watchful eyes of your parents. You were finally in college, away from the suffocating grip of your sheltered upbringing. Now, you were free—free to explore, meet new people, and experience the world on your own terms. You'd always been the quiet, reserved type, but something inside you wanted to change that. You were ready to break out of your shell, to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, partying, flirting, and fucking.
You'd just landed your first job, working as a housekeeper at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. The kind of place where top CEOs, celebrities, and influencers stayed. The pay was decent, and it gave you the freedom you longed for, even though you were still adjusting to the hustle of your new life. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the hours passed by quickly, but today was different. You were already thinking about the freedom you'd have once your shift was over, but you hadn't expected to find what you did next.
As you entered another room to clean, you realized there was no “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle. You assumed it was just another room to tidy, so you entered without hesitation. The sight that greeted you, however, left you frozen.
The man standing before you was unreal. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, muscles rippling under his damp skin, droplets of water glistening on his chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice.
“Sorry! I—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face flushed. “There wasn't a sign on the door and I just thought—”
You tried to turn away quickly, but your gaze was fixed on him, unable to tear yourself away from his presence. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but be entranced by his sharp features, the way the towel clung to his waist.
He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending a wave of warmth through your body. “It's fine, princess. Why so nervous?” he asked, his smirk playful yet intense.
You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself. “I, um, I’m sorry, really.”
He took a step closer, and your breath hitched as he looked you over with what felt like a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm Nicholas by the way, Nicholas Chavez.”
You blinked, a realization dawning on you. Nicholas Chavez. The famous actor. You’d seen him on billboards, in tv shows, and even heard girls talk about him endlessly. He was everywhere. And now, here he was, standing before you in nothing but a towel.
“I, uh, I know who you are,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.
He smiled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Good. You have a name?”
“Yeah, it's Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly, his voice low. He took a small step toward you, and you felt your pulse quicken. “So, how old are you?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you.
“I’m nineteen,” you replied, feeling a little shy under his attention.
He chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Nineteen, huh? You're—full of surprises.”
You blinked, unsure what he meant by that, but his next words made your heart skip a beat.
“How about this,” he said with a sly grin. “When your shift is over, come find me. My private hot tub’s always open. I’ll be waiting.”
For a moment, you hesitated, your mind racing. You’d always been the shy, sheltered girl, but something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, it made you feel different. More alive. Maybe this was your chance to break free from your past, to do something bold.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”
His smile widened, and he gave you a wink before turning away, heading back to the bed. “The door’s always open for you,” he said over his shoulder as he flopped onto the bed, his gaze lingering on you. “Take your time.”
You felt a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You finished your cleaning quickly, your thoughts buzzing with what was to come. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his body, his voice, the way he had looked at you. You felt like you were about to step into a new chapter of your life, one that you had been longing for.
The hours passed slowly, but finally, it was time. You’d made sure to pick out a sexy bathing suit, to wear underneath your clothes. As you approached his room, your heart raced with anticipation. You unlocked the door with your housekeeper’s key and pushed it open, your eyes immediately falling on him.
Nicholas was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his trunks, his body looking just as perfect as before. He looked up and saw you standing there, and his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You came,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You swallowed, nodding. “I— I came.”
As he sat up on the bed, your eyes couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was a vision of pure temptation, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel nervous. You felt almost empowered.
You stepped out of your clothes and into the soft light of his hotel suite, the anticipation buzzing in the air. You tugged at the straps of your bathing suit, a sudden surge of confidence rushing through you as you revealed the simple yet daring swimwear underneath. His eyes flickered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, his gaze darkening with something deeper.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. “You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”
Your heart raced at his words, the heat in your cheeks making you feel more alive than you ever. You gave him a shy smile, but he could see through it, he knew exactly how his words were making you feel. He moved toward you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as his hands gently took you in his arms.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and warm. You squealed in surprise as he effortlessly swept you off your feet, carrying you toward the hot tub on the balcony. The steam rising from the water mingled with the cool night air, creating a perfect atmosphere that made your pulse race even faster.
He set you down gently, the water soothing against your skin as he stepped in after you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something magnetic about him, something raw and unspoken. He was powerful, confident, and completely in control, yet there was a kindness in his gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. His hand brushed against your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch.
You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “Well, I’m new to all of this. I grew up a little sheltered, honestly. But I’m in college now, and I wanted to break out of my shell—experience things for myself.”
Nicholas’ eyes softened with understanding, and he gave you a small nod. “I like that,” he said, his voice deepening. “You’ve got spirit.”
You could feel your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little nervously. “I guess I’m just tired of playing it safe.”
He stepped closer, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in just enough to make you dizzy. “What if I told you that you don’t have to play it safe anymore?” His hand found your cheek, cupping it gently as he held your gaze. “What if I told you there’s so much more to explore, if you’re willing?”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded, not trusting your voice for a moment. His words had unlocked something inside you, something that felt like a new beginning.
“What do you have in mind?” you asked, barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you two, the chemistry so thick you could almost taste it.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “A lot of things. Are you down for anything?”
You could feel your pulse spike, the weight of his question making your stomach flip with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but the conviction behind it was clear. You were ready. Ready to let go and experience everything that this night had to offer.
Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow at first. But then the kiss deepened, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded eagerly, your body moving against his as you got lost in the moment. His mouth was hungry, but gentle, as if savoring every second.
He broke away for a moment, looking down at you with something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers gently grazing your skin.
Nicholas was so close now, his body radiating warmth as his hands gently traced the contours of your body, making you feel things you’d never experienced before. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the raw hunger in his gaze.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Everything about you is perfect.” His fingers slowly moved up, grazing your side, sending a rush of heat straight to your pussy. He paused, then gently tugged at the strings of your bikini top, his eyes darkening as the fabric loosened. “God,” he breathed, looking at you in awe as the top fell away, exposing your tits to him.
You couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest, the way your pulse quickened at his words. You’d never felt more exposed, yet somehow, with him, it felt right. “So juicy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the soft curve of your breast, and you gasped softly, unable to stop the soft moans that escaped your lips. “Your moans are hot,” he said.
Your body reacted to every touch, every brush of his hands. His touch felt like fire on your skin, leaving you trembling. The sensation of his hands on your body was overwhelming, and when his fingers gently cupped your breast, you couldn’t help but let out another moan, louder this time.
“God, your boobs are amazing,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips found yours again in a hungry kiss. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your body pressing closer to his, feeling the heat of his chest against you. His body was solid, strong, and you could feel every inch of him as he held you close.
His hand moved slowly down your body, his fingers grazing the edge of your bikini bottom. He didn’t rush, he was savoring every moment, as if he knew this was all new to you. His hand lingered there, rubbing over pussy through the fabric, making you squirm slightly. The water splashed around you, but it only heightened the lust between you both.
You moaned softly as he rubbed your clothed pussy faster, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your body, his eyes full of desire. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. There was no mistaking the way he felt—he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.
With a gentle but insistent pull, he guided you closer, your bodies pressed together, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between you. His lips found yours once more, and as you kissed him back, you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you, two bodies, two souls connecting in the steam and the quiet night.
What do you want, princess?” His voice was thick with desire, his lips lingering near your ear.
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding as you thought about what you wanted. “I need to feel more. I need you to make me—make me cum.”
He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your bikini bottom. He was so careful, making sure you were comfortable with every movement. He kissed you again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t wait to explore more of you.
The water splashed lightly around you as you both moved, the sound of your breaths mingling with the soft hum of the jets. His hand moved lower, brushing gently against you. He pulled your strings, easily ripping off your bikini then slipped a finger inside your wetness. You couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation of his fingers inside you unfamiliar yet thrilling.
“I’m a virgin by the way, I should’ve mentioned that earlier.”
“Shit, are you okay, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look at you. You nodded, your fingers curling into his chest as you pulled him closer.
“Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, your body reacting instinctively to his finger curling inside you. He slipped another finger inside you, your nails digging into his huge biceps and he took the moment to rub your clit. Your moans and the sound of water splashing was all he could hear.
“Nick— I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with approval. “Cum for me, baby.”
And for the first time in your life, you did. You squirted on his fingers, feeling the tension in your body release as you surrendered to the moment, to him.
“Fucking hell, you look so pretty when you cum, y’know that?” he murmured, brushing your hair from your face.
“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so, no,” you laughed.
You suddenly realized you were butt ass naked in front of a man for the first time as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in like you were a sculpture in a museum. Your hands went instinctively to your boobs, covering yourself as he stared too long.
“Oh baby, don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking your hands and placing it on his bulge. You felt how hard he was, and how big.
Nicholas pulled down his swim trunks, and stepped out of the water in all his glory. The warm water cascaded over his body and all the way down to his cock that was standing at attention. The steam was a paid actor like himself—setting the mood and reflecting the heat between you. He took your hand and helped you out of the hot tub, both of you dripping with arousal and remnants of water.
As you stood there, his towel draped loosely around his waist, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly broad and strong his frame was. The water glistened off his chest, highlighting his defined muscles, and you felt an involuntary shiver of anticipation.
He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your skin as he took up a towel and dried you off. You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest as his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary, making it hard for you to breathe.
“Come on baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he led you back toward the bedroom, your pulse quickening with every step. The moment you entered, he closed the door behind you, the weight of his presence filling the room.
Before you could even process what was happening, he pushed you gently onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the mattress. The action was quick, but there was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you—there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he couldn’t wait to see where this would go.
He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, watching you as you caught your breath, your body still damp from the hot tub. “You know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “you’re absolutely beautiful.” His words sent a wave of heat through you, making you flush as his gaze dropped to your body, his eyes darkening with desire.
You could barely find your voice. “Th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to focus. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or excited, maybe both.
Nicholas moved closer, leaning down until his face was just inches from your glistening pussy. “Can I taste you?” he asked softly, his lips hovering over you.
You nodded, barely able to speak, but your lips parted as he moved in. His mouth moved against your pussy slow at first, tentative almost, as if testing the waters. But as he began licking faster, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded by pressing your pussy against him, the heat of his mouth making you dizzy with desire.
“You’re taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your clit, his voice a husky growl. You moaned softly in response, your body already reacting to his tongue all over you. It was the first time anyone had made you feel like this, so exposed and yet so wanted.
Your breath caught in your throat as you gathered the courage to speak. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.
He smiled, that wicked grin curling at the edges of his lips at the nickname you appointed to him. “Wow, we’ll address that after you cum on my tongue, so go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.
As if your body was waiting for the go ahead, you arched from the bed, your hands immediately gripping his hair as you ground your pussy all over his mouth. You moaned as you squirted and he took the opportunity to slurp every drop of what your pussy had to over.
“Mm— that’s my good girl, you taste like fucking Heaven, sweetheart,” he praised in between his licks.
He moved up to you, his lips glistening with your arousal and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and relishing in your savory taste. As you did, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you, his pre cum leaking and smearing on you. It felt so good, you wanted to suck his dick but you needed him to fuck you even more.
“So, daddy kink hmm? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” Nicholas said, that gorgeous smirk on his face.
You buried your face in his neck, grinding your pussy against his shaft as you let out small whimpers in his ear. You needed that dick, bad.
“You’re so needy sweetheart, what is it, you want my cock?”
You let out a soft ‘mhmm’ still grinding against him as your body shuddered, if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cum from just doing that.
“Words baby, I need words, do you want daddy to take your virginity?” he asked. When he saw you, he knew he wanted you for a fun night and more, he would’ve never thought a beautiful woman like you was still a virgin and would be up for a night with him. Let’s be real, if a guy like him asked you to come to his room after hours, he was looking to fuck and you, a virgin, knowingly came to his room. Though, he needed to know you were on board.
“Yes, please, I want you to take my virginity, please fuck me,” you whimpered.
He reached to pull out the nightstand drawer and you knew immediately what he was reaching for.
“N-no condom,” you muttered, grabbing his hand, “I’d like to feel all of you for my first time, i-if that’s okay.”
“‘Course baby, anything for you,” he smiled.
He moved back on top of you, stroking his length and spreading the pre cum all over. Looking at how big he was, you wondered how he would fit.
“You sure you want to do this sweetheart? You can still back out if you want to, the decision is all yours,” he said, concern etched on his face.
“I’m sure Nicholas,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.
His leaking tip rubbed against your folds, the sound of your wetness filling the hotel room.
“I’m gonna go slow baby but it’s still going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, if it’s gets too painful, all you have to say is stop, yeah?”
You nodded your head and smiled, appreciative of his words, you wouldn’t want to be losing your virginity in any other scenario with anyone else but him.
Slowly, he began easing his cock into you, muttering praises and placing kisses all over your face. Your face contorted from the pain and pleasure and you tried your best to relax so he could move further.
“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, the worst part’s gonna be over soon,” he uttered, before placing a kiss on your lips.
He slowly pushed into you more, peppering kisses and cooing at you. You’d never felt to full, your fingers when you touched yourself didn’t compare to how big he was inside you. Your jaw fell agape as the slight pain finally subsided and you were overcome with pleasure.
“Daddy,” you moaned as he began to move at a steady pace, his cocky repeatedly brushing against your sweet spot.
“There she is, there’s daddy’s girl,” he cooed, placing another kiss on your lips.
His words made your pussy clench and a flutter grew in your heart, this man was doing things to you no man had ever done.
“Faster,” you urged, grinding against him.
He granted your wish, pounding into you faster and making your body jolt upwards. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room and soon, you felt your approaching orgasm.
“So fucking tight, just clenching around me like that, I know you wanna cum, cum on daddy’s cock baby.”
Your nails dug into his back leaving a trail of fire and he pounded into you just the way you liked it.
“Oh fuck— daddy,” you cried, grabbing him and pulling him flush against you. You shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you, your juices soaking the bed as he pulled out.
As he looked down, there was a bit of blood between your legs and on his cock. He quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned you up then himself, placing a kiss on your thigh.
You glimpsed the blood stained towel and buried your face in your hands.
“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”
He cut you off with a passionate kiss, cupping your cheeks.
“You don’t need to apologize, it’s natural and normal sweetheart.”
You gave him a small smile and he flipped you on top of him swiftly, making you squeal.
“I know it’s your first time but I need you to ride me baby, need to see those fucking tits bounce and have you on top of me.”
“Anything for you,” you smirked, though nervous.
You lined his awaiting cock with your dripping pussy, rubbing it against you and making it drip down his shaft.
“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he moaned, bucking his hips.
Slowly, you sank down onto him, both moaning in unison as your warmth and wetness engulfed each other. It was like fireworks exploded, this was everything you had dreamed of. It was a burning stretch but the pain soon turned into pleasure.
You bounced on his cock and he moved his hips to meet your thrusts.
“Oh God— daddy,” you moaned, feeling him hit a whole new spot inside you, you thought was impossible.
“Yeah? You like that? You like riding daddy’s cock? Fucking say it,” he panted.
“I— I love riding daddy’s cock, fuck me harder,” you moaned.
“Good fucking girl.”
He thrusted up into you, grabbing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he did. Your moans were like music to his ears and soon, he felt the familiar feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him like you didn’t want to let him go.
“Squeezing me so fucking tight baby, cum for daddy, soak daddy’s cock.”
Falling on top of him, your body convulsed and your orgasm overtook you, soaking his length and the sheets below you once more. You knew the housekeepers would complain, they always did when the sheets were covered in bodily fluid, hell, you did too, oh the irony.
“Stay just like that baby, daddy’s gonna pump you full of cum,” he murmured.
Nicholas pinned your hands behind your back, the action unusual but making your head swoon.
“Oh, you like that don’t you?” he asked, fucking up into you hard.
“I love it daddy, faster,” you begged.
“As you wish.” His cock began slamming into you faster and soon, you felt the unmistakable feeling of something warm, filling you to the brim.
“That feels so good,” you moaned, grinding against him.
“I know baby, take daddy’s cum, take it in that tight fucking pussy.”
He slowly thrusted into you before he pulled out, the feeling leaving you empty yet fulfilled.
You laid there, tangled in each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests.
“Did you enjoy yourself beautiful?,” he asked, as you leaned up to look at him.
“More than I could ever imagine.”
He smiled and gave you a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bathroom and coming back with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, littering kisses as he did.
“You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” he muttered. His words made your heart flutter, would this be a regular occurrence?
“I think I’m lucky too,” you laughed, “a famous actor just took my virginity.”
“And I’d like to take it all over again in the morning, will you stay the night?” he inquired, tossing the cloth on the couch.
“I don’t think I can, I already broke a rule sleeping with a guest but literally sleeping over in a guest’s room? I’d get fired and it’s my first job I—“
He cut you off with a finger over your lips. “Shh, forget who I am? I’ll pull some strings, and even if you do get fired, I’ll easily take care of you.”
You buried your face in his firm chest and he fell onto the bed beside you. The romantic night went on with you tangled in each other’s arms and Nicholas littering kisses all over your face. Who knew being a housekeeper would score you such a big tip.
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mochiwonz · 1 day ago
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― WE LISTEN AND WE DON'T JUDGE
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PAIRING. gn/fem!reader x boyfriend!enhahyungline CONTENT. hyungline (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon) headcanons , suggestive :3 , petnames , a little fluff..? NOTE. i find this trend so funny so i had to make this LOL i was actually gonna make a whole fic off of this idea but i'm lazy so...hope u enjoy ˃o˂ ♡
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HEESEUNG
"hee, let's do this trend!" you say as you basically shove your phone in his face. he giggles, he found it cute how you always loved doing silly trends with him. but as he continues to watch the video, he's unsure. it's kind-of...TMI? he looks at you and you're cheesing ear to ear, fuck, he can't say no. "okay let's do it" he tells you while pulling you onto his chest. you click record and you both say "we listen and we don't judge" luckily, you end up going first, giving him time to think. however, his thoughts are cut short when he hears you say "i love your nose so much and sometimes i think about sitting on it" he doesn't know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that. he's fucked.
JAY
"princess, have you seen that one trend on tiktok? the-" he asks but you quickly cut him off. "oh my god the we listen and we don't judge one? can we do it?!" you ask excitedly, obviously expectant. you both know he couldn't say no to his princess. unfortunately, maybe he should've said no, just this once. "we listen and we don't judge" you both say. "baby go firstt" you tell him, and he listens. "uhm- okay. when i had a crush on you i used to stalk your insta...?" jay says timidly while looking at you, and he notices a change in your expression when you realize it's your turn. "hm, okay. i screen record your voice on facetime calls so that i can uh...use it later...?" you're blushing a little, realizing you just exposed yourself like crazy. oh well, at least jay is blushing too!
JAKE
it's 2:50 am and you and jake are still awake, watching tiktoks on his bed while cuddling. jake comes across a trend, a familiar trend, and asks if you want to do it with him. of course, you say yes, this trend was so funny and you secretly wanted to do it with jake too! "we listen and we don't judge" you both say, and jake starts off. "when i'm in the shower i lather my body with soap and carve your initials in it" he admits while laughing from his embarrassment. you giggle "that's weird but also kinda cute" jake scoffs playfully "yeah yeah okay, your turn" you think for a little and hah, jake won't be ready for this one. "i had a dream that i gave you a blowjob a year ago and your dick was huge" you look up at jake and he's just staring at you, but next thing you know he's on top of you. you can imagine the rest <3
SUNGHOON
you had sent sunghoon a tiktok of a couple doing the "we listen and don't judge" trend and that had sparked an idea in his head. a few hours later after you arrived to his place, you remembered that you wanted to do that tiktok trend with him. sunghoon was so happy you brought it up- he had basically forgot. "okay hoon, you'll start?" you ask, and he nods. "okay, i get hard when you wear miniskirts." he says with a playful grin plastered onto his beautiful face. he immediately notices the change in your demeanor, and you grin back at him. you straddle his lap and end up catching him off guard. "so my plan with the miniskirts did work. nice!"
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pls reblog if you enjoyed !! my other works can be found here
© mochiwonz ― all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, or translate my work.
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anlxcqrd · 1 day ago
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𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄
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sypnosis: the strongest lets you wear his blindfold and things escalated very quickly.
contains: friends to lovers? p in v, oral sex, etc.
pairings: gojo satoru/reader
warnings: mdni nsfw ahead!
a/n: took a break and now im here. sorry if it sucks cause i didn't proofread it cause im still busy :(
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"Like who puts milk first? Some people are just a bunch of psychos!" He clasps both sides of his head in a dramatic way as he ranted.
"Uh huh"
"Don't give me that 'oh it's to prevent my cereal from getting soggy' shit. I can't understand them Y/N!" He whined and you put your mug down on the coffee table where his long legs where resting.
"You know what I don't understand?" You look at him and he tilts his head to the side as if to say 'what'. "How you can see through your blindfold. I get that you have the six eyes but i dont get how the seeing through shits works. Can you also see other objects?" You look at him as if he was a flat earther and he only laughs.
"That's cause im cool." He arrogantly brushed his hair back. "And only cool people can do this!" You roll your eyes knowing you're not getting a proper answer from him.
"Wanna try wearing it?" He asks you and you immediately shake your head. "No! You're gonna tire yourself out and I was just-" he cuts you off. "Look, I might say that a lot but trust me I'm not that weak and its only for fun! Its not like you're going to burn it or something."
His long fingers then trail to the top of his blindfold and pulled it down slowly. There you can see his mesmerizing azure eyes staring down at you. "Here." He hands you his blindfold.
You reluctantly take it from him and you slide it on. As expected, you can't see anything. Just right before you can take it off, a pair of lips meet yours, capturing you in a tender yet deep kiss.
"Mmh!" You push him away and took off the blindfold. You see him looking at you with a flushed face. "Y/N I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me I just-" you kiss him cutting off whatever he said. His eyes widen and immediately kisses you back.
And thats how you end up face down ass up taking in the meanest backshots you've ever received. "Fuck!" He spanked your ass hard making you squirm. His huge hands gripped your hips hard to keep you in place.
The way he was pistoning into you made you tear up from how it good it felt. You wish you can see him through the blindfold that was preventing you from seeing.
"Satoruuu" you whine as he rubbed tight circles on your clit making your legs tremble. His tip was kissing your g-spot trying his best not to hit your cervix and cause any discomfort. "Y/N" he whimpered your name, he feels like his hips had a mind of its own, moving on its own like it was a hungry beast.
As the teacher's lounge was filled with sounds of your hips hitting each other along with your moans and whimpers. He flips you on your back and kisses you again. This abyss is something you never want to escape. Your souls were colliding, fading into each other as you made love with passion.
"I'm cummin' ngh can i cum in you? Please let me cum in you." He begged desperate to release himself inside your gummy walls.
"yes please cum in me. Fill me up satoru." You nod vigorously, drunk in his touch and love. He kneaded your breasts, pulling and pinching them as he picks his pace up desperate to cum.
"Ah-yes fuck yes!" He groaned feeling his balls tighten as they hit your ass. "Don't stop, please! Fuck right there yes!!" Your eyes roll back behind the fabric as you fill his warm cum fill you up.
His trembling hands sloppily takes off the blindfold, giving you access to see again. He groped your breast and sucked the other one as he grinds into you again.
You kiss him before moving down to his still-hard cock. You kiss his tip and pre cum leaked out of him. As you start sucking him off he licks a long stripe on your cunt making you gasp and almost lose your balance. "Ah! Satoru wait- ngh!" He only pushes your head further down and fucks your mouth.
after what felt like an eternity you both reached your limits and is now cuddled up on the couch. You kiss his cheek and he holds you closer.
The silence went on for a long time until you hear the door open.
Oh shit.
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loveesiren · 2 days ago
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Baby Daddy (Pt. 2)
Rafe Cameron x Reader
A/n: Here's part two! Let me know if you guys want more to this story :)
Warnings: Birth, emergency c-section, language, fluff
Word Count: 1.7k+
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You leaned your head on Rafe's shoulder, his hand rubbing your swollen belly as you were handed yet another gift.
You were grateful for this baby shower that Rose had put together but you couldn't help the fact that you were absolutely exhausted.
You were in no way prepared for how much pregnancy took a toll on your body. Especially in the third trimester.
You held the tiny pink blanket up. The soft fabric was lined with silk and it was absolutely adorable.
"And when you finally tell us her name, we'll get it stitched on there. Along with her birthday." Sarah said with a smile as her and John B watched you examine their gift.
"It's perfect," You say. "And her name will be revealed once she's born." You chuckle.
"I can't believe you're making us wait," John B whines, rolling his eyes.
"She's gonna be here any day now," Rafe smiled, looking down at you. "And this has been great but Y/N really needs to get some rest."
"But there is still more presents!" Rose whines.
"And she will open them later," Rafe scolds. "She's exhausted."
You were practically falling asleep in Rafe's arms.
"Alright, fine," Rose says as she stands up. "For anyone who would like to continue celebrating, join me in the back yard!"
John B and Sarah stay behind, cleaning up the mess of wrapping paper that littered the living room.
"I'm going to take her up to bed," Rafe said as he stood up and pulled you off the couch.
"Rafe, no, too fat." You grumbled as you felt him try to lift you. "I can do it."
"Baby-"
"I can do it!"
John B and Sarah laugh as you fall back on the couch, obviously too tired to move.
Rafe sighs before bending over and scooping you into his arms.
"Rafe, no-"
"Shhhh," He says, picking you up effortlessly. "Uhm, do you guys need me to-"
"Go," Sarah says with a smile. "We got it."
Rafe offers a small smile before carrying you upstairs to the room the two of you shared. Rose had turned the guest room next to Rafe's room into a nursery. The two rooms sat in a part of the house that was mostly cut off from the rest. It was the perfect little corner for the two of you and your baby while you saved up for your own place.
Rafe laid you down on the bed and pulled the covers over the two of you as he crawled in next to you and cradled your belly. "Get some rest, Mama." He said, placing a kiss on your temple.
"Rafe..." You whispered.
"Yes?"
You could feel his fingers trail over your skin. The way he cared for you and was so gentle and excited for your baby, you couldn't wait anymore. You had to tell him.
"I love you." You say as you look up to meet his eyes.
His breath caught in his throat as he registered your words. "W-what?"
You giggled. "I love you, Rafe. You're amazing. And you're going to be an amazing dad. I know we've been doing this whole pregnancy thing in kind of a weird way but I'd kind of like to be a real a fami-"
Rafe pressed his lips to yours, caressing your cheek as he deepened the kiss. "I've been in love with you for so long," He admitted against your lips. "I want all of this. I want us. I want our baby. I want to be a family."
You smiled at his response. He'd changed so much since you found out you were pregnant. He quit coke. He worked hard. He was constantly at your side making sure you had everything you needed. You practically had to pull him off you so you could go check on John B.
You could see his eyes swelling with tears. "What's wrong, baby?" You asked as you cupped his cheek.
"Nothing," He shook his head as a tear fell from his eye. "I just have my dream girl and I get to meet my fucking daughter soon. My life is perfect."
You couldn't help but tear up at his words. You ran your fingers through his hair as he rested his head on your shoulder. It wasn't long before the two of you drifted off to sleep.
———-
"AHHHHH!" You screamed as you shot up in bed. "Oh my fucking God!"
"What is it baby?!" Rafe asked eagerly as he quickly flipped on the lamp.
"It fucking hurts!" You spit. "Rafe...Rafe I think I'm contracting." You're barely able to get the words out.
"Oh, fuck. Okay!" He yells as he hops out of bed. He opens the door and yells into the hallway. "Dad! Rose!"
"Fuck, FUCK!" You scream.
"Okay, hold on baby, I have your bag." Rafe runs to his closet and pulls out the bag he had packed for you for when the time finally came. "Rose!" He screams again.
"I'm coming! What is it?" She says as her and Ward enter the room. "Oh, okay!"
Rose is by your side instantly, helping you off the bed.
"Ah! I can't-" You say as you fall to the floor. "I can't walk, it hurts so much."
"I got you baby," Rafe says, once again scooping you into his arms with minimal effort.
"Ward, start the car!" Rose commands as she grabs your bag and you all head downstairs.
Rafe climbs into the back seat with you. You dig your nails into his arm as another contraction invades your body.
"It's okay, sweet girl." Rafe says as he presses his lips to your forehead. "Just breathe with me, okay?" He holds your swollen belly up, relieving some of the pressure so you're able to catch your breath.
You can feel the car speeding to the hospital. You can hear Ward and Rose arguing in the front seat. You can feel Rafe wrapped around you, whispering sweetly into your ear. But you couldn't help the black haze that was washing over your vision as you lost consciousness.
"Hey, hey!" Rafe said as he lightly tapped your cheek. "Y/N, baby, stay with me!"
"We're almost there!" Ward says.
"She's unconscious!" Rafe screams.
_____________
Your eyes fluttered open. It was almost painful to keep your eyelids up.
Large windows lined the room, letting in the sunrise. Purple skies as the sun made it's way into view.
You felt so confused. You placed a hand on your belly. No bump. You instantly shot up, panicking at your missing baby bump you had grown so used to.
"Rafe!" You screamed.
"Hey, hey!" Rafe said as he came out of the bathroom, bouncing a tiny human in his arms. "Calm down baby, I'm here. We're here." He smiles as he sits on the bed next to you.
"Is that...is that my daughter?" You ask, taking in her tiny features. She had Rafe's eyes and your lips. A perfect mix of the two of you.
Rafe smiles, moving to place her in your arms. "You did so good, mama."
You hold her gently, tears filling your eyes as she instantly looked for your nipple. You happily fed her, gushing over the fact she knew you were her mother.
"I-I don't even remember."
"It was complicated," Rafe begins, rubbing one hand over your leg and one over her tiny head. "Emergency c-section. Thought I was gonna lose you. But you were so strong."
You couldn't help but cry. A tear falling on your child's cheek but Rafe brushed it away.
"She's been so fussy until now. She doesn't like the bottle." Rafe chuckles.
"How long have a been out?"
"Two days,"
You shudder, realizing you missed the first two days of your child's life.
Rafe pulls himself up to sit behind you. You lean back against his chest as you continue to feed your child. He runs his fingers up and down your arms and places kisses on your temples.
"I love you so much," He whispers.
"I love you too," You said as you felt yourself drift back to sleep. Rafe brought his arms around you to help hold your baby as she finished nursing.
When you woke up again the sun was setting. Rafe was draped over you, snoring softly. Your daughter in a bassinet beside you, sleeping peacefully.
You heard a knock at the door. Rafe shot up, rubbing his eyes as he tried to process what was going on.
"Hmmm, okay." He said, half asleep as he stumbled towards the door.
You felt bad. You knew he'd been doing all of this on his own while you were out. He needed sleep.
"Hey," Rafe said as your family members piled in. You were grateful for the large room.
Rose and Wheezie carried flowers and gifts, placing them on the dresser by the window. Ward followed behind them.
John B and Sarah came in after them with balloons, setting them to the side as they quickly ran to see your baby.
"Jesus," Rafe grumbled as he laid back down beside you. "M' sorry baby. They wouldn't let anyone but me in until today."
You pet his hair and place a kiss on his head as he rests against your shoulder. "It's okay, babe."
You were wide awake now. Rafe tried his best to sit up and interact but you could tell he wasn't going to last long.
John B held your baby as everyone else crowded around him. She was smiling up at him and it made your heart melt.
"So," Sarah asked. "What's her name?"
You turned to Rafe and smiled. He smiled and rubbed his eyes. "Her name is Juliette Lilith Cameron." He announced.
All the girls gushed over the name. John B smiled down at his niece, bouncing her happily.
Ward came around the side of the bed and placed a hand on Rafe's shoulder. "Congratulations, son. You're going to be a great father."
Rafe smiles at his dads words. "Thanks, dad." He gushes. You can't help but tear up. You knew how much Rafe wanted his dad to be proud of him.
After everyone had a turn holding Juliette, Rafe finally ushered them all out, claiming you and baby needed your rest. But in all honesty, you and Juliette were fine. Rafe was the one that needed a break.
After you nursed Juliette and laid her down to sleep, you and Rafe snuggled in your hospital bed, eating mediocre hospital food and watching Family Feud.
"Can I get you anything, baby?" Rafe mumbled against your shoulder, barely able to keep his eyes open.
"Get some sleep, my love." You whisper, placing a kiss on his head.
"Gotta take care of my girls first," He mumbles.
"We're good," You promise him. "We need you to be well rested."
Rafe hums into your skin, wrapping his arm tighter around you but not tight enough to hurt you since you were still healing.
"Love my girls," Was the last thing he said before he drifted off to sleep.
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Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001
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thelesbiancitizen · 1 day ago
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On Women-Loving-Women and Building Our Culture.
a big problem I have with a lot of lesbians is that they want soooo badly for lesbian art and culture to be ~cool~ and ~epic~ and to ~go mainstream~ and they'll be crying and wailing abt the "lack of lesbian representation" ... yeah, in the mainstream. Cus NEWSFLASH. REAL lesbian art, art that's saying something important, will NEVER BE MAINSTREAM. Because mainstream media is built on a whole system of values that entirely excludes the female viewpoint by design. and ESPECIALLY so when it comes to women whose lives center around other women.
Most lesbians, including myself once upon a time, suffer from a massive cultural inferiority complex. It's why you see so many young females identifying as gay men, because they think the culture is way cooler, more glamorous. Cus gay men have money. Lesbians do not.
Lesbian cultural works are made with very little money. And they're made for a specific audience -- other women-who-love-women -- and so they don't cater to what mainstream / malestream values think are cool. Lesbian art particularly from the 70s / 80s (and onward) is following a completely different set of values. It's about clear communication, not obfuscation. It isn't about technique, it's about clarity. It's about bringing what is supposed to be hidden out into the open. It's about using whatever you can to say whatever you've got to say. It's earnest. It's genuine. It's affectionate. It's awkward. It's clumsy. It's a loving gesture. but sooooo depressingly many young women hate it and won't give it a second glance bc you are obsessed with male approval. You crave male approval of these artistic works and you know you'll never get it, you know men will just laugh and dismiss these works bc lesbian art makes men uncomfortable. Because it's so specifically female. It's coming from a different place. A female place. Aimed at other females. Men can't understand it.
And guess what? It doesn't fucking matter. It doesn't. There is TONS AND TONS AND TONS of incredible Lesbian art and cultural products that so many lesbians my age will scoff at and say it sucks bc it isn't "cool", you think it's "cringe", but you never look at why you it is you think that way. Lesbian artists today mostly suck because they're still trying to gain approval from male-dominated institutions, where masculinist value systems still reign supreme. They're not trying to say anything that's really of value to lesbians and continuing the growth and expansion of lesbian culture. They're disconnected from the culture that made it possible for them to be out and open in the first place. They've disowned the women who came before them and did all the messy, difficult work.
Lesbian artists who have made works in the tradition of the Lesbian feminist culture that started in the 70s are so fascinating, their work is very challenging, and really makes you look at things differently. Yet, this tradition is in danger of dying out bc the younger generations are not interested. Because it isn't "cool". Because these lesbians were politically engaged and knew how powerful it was to subvert patriarchal masculinist value systems with their art. But you just look at it and see "bad art". Hmm. Ever wonder why that is?
I'm mostly speaking of visual culture here, but also music, and poetry, too. We need to understand the value of having cultural works created By Lesbians For Lesbians. Eschewing masculinist values. Creating new vocabularies. Really listening to each other. Really trying to hear what we are saying. We need to do this or else Lesbian culture will really truly be dead in a decade or two. It'll just be women copying pornified culture and thinking that's what it means to be a lesbian.
We have to make art about our experiences as women-loving-women, we have to hear each other, see each other, and talk about what we are doing. We need to be having conversations about what we want Lesbian culture to be. And building upon the legacy of the women who came before. This is how we make meaning out of our lives; meaning that is self-determined. It's stupid to sit here and take whatever crumbs we are given from artists who still are trying to appease malestream audiences. Or wailing that there are no good lesbian representations in media. We need to represent ourselves. We need to represent our lives as we see them, as we live them.
We need to value the works that we create, for ourselves, and for each other. Put our powerful Lesbian voices at the center of everything we say and do.
This is how we will find each other. This is how we will banish our loneliness and hopelessness and cast out despair. We let our lights shine and we make room for each other. We've GOT to start having CONVERSATIONS ABOUT CULTURE.
Art scenes are like gardens. Every work of art is like a plant. What do we want to cultivate? What do we want to plant to feed ourselves and for the next generations of lesbians? It's all up to us. If we want new images, we have to create them. If we want new sounds, we have to make them. If we want new language, we have to invent it.
We as women NEED to make works of art that express how we feel about ourselves and each other. How we love each other. How we hate each other. What we mean to each other. What our relationships mean, what they really look like. How it really feels to try and fail and succeed at loving one another. When we are at the center of our own worlds. We have to stop marginalizing our own experiences and voices inside our heads and JUST SPEAK.
Every piece of art you make adds your voice to a lineage of ideas. It becomes a part of a historical narrative. It means we are here. Our work is important. We have the right to speak on and engage with stories, narratives, systems of values, concepts, and ideas. And if you can, you should. If you have the opportunity, you're lucky. Do it.
Speak.
Say something. Say anything. Be honest. Be messy. Be real. Make something.
CREATE, WOMAN!
We need to seriously engage with each other's ideas. We need to respect each other's intellect and artistic processes enough to let ourselves unfold. We need to quit arguing so much and PUT IT INTO ART. AND PUT IT OUT THERE. PLEASE!
BECAUSE I NEED TO HEAR YOU!!!!! AND I NEED YOU TO HEAR ME!!!!!!
We have nothing left to lose.
Maybe I'll start a magazine.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 day ago
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January 1986
Steve sighed as he stepped out into the late January air. He loved visiting the quarry at this time of year, especially when he parents strolled into town. He took in the view with a smile. God, it really was beautiful. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who thought so. He spotted Eddie Munson's van parked not too far away. He recognized it from all the times he picked Dustin up from Hellfire. The side door was wide open. Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and decided that he should go say hello. Dustin wanted them both to get to know each other, and he insisted that he had nothing to be jealous about.
"Hello? Munson?" Steve asked and peered into the van. "Eddie?"
That's when he heard it. Someone screaming. His instincts immediately kicked in, and he ran towards the sound. Steve reached the edge of the quarry and saw Eddie clinging to a ledge.
"Oh my god! What are you doing?!" Steve exclaimed.
"Well, gee, Harrington, I thought I'd get a better view - I fucking fell!" Eddie shrieked.
"Grab my hand!" Steve yelled.
Steve laid on his stomach and threw his arm down. Eddie didn't waste a second and grabbed his hand. Steve secured himself and started pulling Eddie up, but it was awkward. Steve groaned as he tried to pull him up.
"Okay! You know what? Just let me go, man, I can swim!" Eddie yelled.
"At this height, that water turns into concrete, and then you turn into mashed potatoes!" Steve exclaimed.
"You just had to put that image into my head!" Eddie shrieked. "You're fucking with me!"
"Yeah, that's right! I want to be known as the person who saved Eddie Munson's life!" Steve yelled.
"With all that hero hair, I bet you do!" Eddie yelled.
"You're so fucking - "
He was infuriating, and with that, Steve managed to find something inside of him to pull Eddie up. They stumbled backward, Eddie falling into his arms. Eddie clung to him, pressing his face into his shoulder and breathing him in.
"What were you about to say?" Eddie gasped.
"I was going to say that you were so fucking annoying," Steve said. "So annoying that I managed to use that to yank you up."
"So, what you're saying is that I saved my life," Eddie said. "I knew I could do it."
Steve laughed and loosened his grip. Suddenly, Eddie squeezed on tighter with a loud squeak.
"Eddie?"
"Don't let me go," he whimpered.
"Yeah, okay, I got you," he said softly and pressed his cheek to the top of his head, stroking hair hair gently.
"I just came out here because. . .I'm afraid of heights," Eddie said. "And I thought that I could just get over it by coming and putting my feet over the edge. It was so dumb. No one else knows about it. . .well, except you."
"Any other fears I should know about?" Steve asked.
"Ducks. You better not fucking tell anyone," Eddie said. "It's bad enough that Jeff mocks me for it, and now Dustin."
"I don't blame you. They look like freaky looking dinosaurs," Steve said. "I mean, I'm not afraid of them, but I totally get it."
"You're the only who does," Eddie said, letting out a dry sob. "You smell nice, by the way."
Eddie got up off of Steve and helped him up. He started dusting the gravel out of Steve’s hair before working his way down to dust off his back and then. . .
"Eddie, that's my ass! You're basically smacking my ass," Steve said, blushing.
"I'm just trying to be as helpful as you were with me," Eddie said and then scowled. "How the hell is this thing so bouncy?"
"Okay!" Steve said whirling around.
"Your cheeks are pink, you as cold as I am?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah. I got a blanket and a thermos of hot chocolate in my car," Steve said. "You want some?"
"It's kismet! I actually got space in the back of my van for once," Eddie said.
Steve grabbed the thermos and the blanket. He crawled into the back with Eddie and threw the blanket over the both of them. They leaned back against the wall of the van, facing the open door. He poured some hot chocolate for Eddie.
"I make it myself," Steve said.
"Goddamn, this is good!" Eddie grinned. "You really like it with extra chocolate."
"Yeah," he shrugged.
"Hmm, me, too," Eddie said. "What else is in here?"
"Can't tell you, it's my secret," he said.
"I nearly died, and you can't tell me your secret ingredient?!" He asked in disbelief.
"No!" Steve laughed as Eddie invaded his space. "You don't know what boundaries are, do you?"
"You tell me to back off, and I will," Eddie replied.
"It's fine," he blushed.
"I seriously want to think you for saving my life, Steve," Eddie said as he sipped his hot chocolate. "I never wanted to believe that someone like you could be such a good dude."
"I'm sorry," Steve said.
"For what?" He asked.
"That jocks like me have put you through so much hell that that it's made you believe so poorly in the sport," Steve said.
"Well, I suppose it happens with every group. I mean, most people think all metalheads are satanic and evil," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.
"When really they're all a bunch of teddy bears," Steve smirked.
"Shut up," Eddie said. "I suppose we all make assumptions."
"Well, Dustin was right about you. You're a great guy," Steve said.
"Not that I care about what little shrimp thinks," Eddie scoffs, blushing. "Besides, he totally worships you."
"He does?" Steve asked.
"Oh, yeah, I was super jealous as hell, by the way," he said.
"Yeah, me too," Steve said.
"What brings you out here?" Eddie asked.
"Oh, uh, my parents are actually home for once," Steve said.
"You don't like them, or they don't like you?" Eddie asked.
"I don't like them because they don't like me," Steve replied.
"Damn."
"Yeah. . .my dad is still ragging on me to join him at his company selling insurance, but I do not want to do that," Steve said. "On top of that, they're trying to pick out the girl they want me to marry."
"Jesus," Eddie said. "They can't do that, can they?"
"Well, they have the power to make me homeless, which they have brought up several times," Steve said.
"They're threatening you?! Yeah, I can see why you want to hide from them," Eddie said. "Why are they trying to force you to marry a girl?"
"It's complicated," he said.
"Oh, come on, I saved your life, you owe me," Eddie teased.
"Uh, that's the other way around, asshole," Steve said and laughed.
"You don't have to say anything, man, if you don't want to," Eddie said.
"They walked in on my fucking my now ex-boyfriend. . .who ended things, but apparently I wasn't worth it," Steve said. "So, now they're trying to cover up the fact that their precious boy isn't a freak."
"Jesus, okay, yeah, your parents are fucked in the head. You can't help being gay," Eddie said.
"Bisexual, actually," Steve said.
"Okay, context clues. . .judging by the fact that bi means more than one and sexual means - okay, yeah, okay, I got it, don't explain it to me," Eddie said, and Steve giggled. "You got anywhere else to go? Like people who actually care."
"I mean, yeah, but - "
"If they truly care about you, you're never a burden, no matter how much you mess up," Eddie said. "It took me a long time to realize that with Uncle Wayne."
"Yeah, I got a few people," he blushed.
"Good," Eddie said.
"So, how often do you need saving from yourself?" Steve asked. "Is it a regular occurence?"
"Wayne would tell you that, yes, I can barely get out of the trailer without tripping over my own feet," Eddie said.
"It sounds like you might need me around to save you then," Steve smiled.
"I definitely could, and you being around to pull me off the ledge would save the rest of Wayne's hair," he said, flashing his dimples.
"Sounds like I've got my work cut out for me, then," he said.
"I like to think that I'm worth it," Eddie said.
"I'm definitely starting to see that," Steve said.
"You know, if I were your boyfriend, I think I would have stayed and fought your parents for you. You're definitely worth it," Eddie said, casually sipping his hot chocolate. "So, how serious was this boyfriend of yours?"
"I mean, not very," Steve said. "I wasn't heartbroken when he left. Hey, wait a minute. . .Eddie, do you want to be my boyfriend?"
"Oh, I thought you would never ask!" Eddie exclaimed and kissed his cheek. "Hell yeah, big boy!"
"I wasn't - I mean, you know, what never mind," Steve chuckled. "It worked out."
"Yeah, it did," Eddie said, snuggling into him.
"So, how hard are you going to test my ability to keep you alive?" Steve asked.
"Oh, you have no idea!"
They continued to talk for a long time until they could no longer feel their extremities.
LATER. . .
Steve followed Eddie into his trailer as he barrelled through the front door. Wayne jumped as the front door slammed open.
"Boy, what have I told you about slamming that door and scaring me like that?" Wayne asked.
"To keep it up. You know how you told me that this trailer wasn't big enough for me to be bringing girls over?" Eddie asked. "Well, I found a loophole! I brought a boy home instead!"
"I didn't know you liked boys," Wayne said.
"Until today, I didn't realize that I did either," Eddie said with a grin.
Steve closed the front door behind him and quickly turned to Eddie.
"What?" Steve asked.
"It wasn't until this angel saved me from falling to my death, and no, I'm not being dramatic, that I realized that I also like the boys, specifically this boy," Eddie said.
"I should have suspected this when you offered to introduce me to your uncle," he grinned. "But I didn't realize that you didn't know about yourself until today."
"Sorry," Eddie said. "So, I know it's last minute, but he'll be sleeping in my bed for a few days until he moves into his new place."
"You really save his life?" Wayne asked.
"Oh, yeah," Steve said. "Idiot looked too far over the quarry and nearly fell in."
"Eddie!" Wayne yelled and then laughed. "Sorry, I didn't get your name."
"Steve Harrington," he said and held out his hand for Wayne to shake.
"Steve Harrington, huh?" he asked in amusement as he shook his hand. "Well, thank you, Steve Harrington, for saving my boy."
"It was no problem," he said.
"Enjoy your hair while you can because you're in for it," he said, and Steve snorted at Eddie's yelp. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."
"He makes wonderful hot chocolate," Eddie said. "Come on."
He followed Eddie into his bed and watched him rush around the room to make it more presentable.
"Eddie," Steve said.
"Yeah?"
"Are you sure about this? It's all happening so fast, and I just want to make sure that you're not jumping in because I saved your life," Steve said.
"I've been struggling with my sexuality for a long time now because other people just automatically make the assumption that just because I'm a freak that I'm also queer," Eddie sighed, "And condsidering that it came from people who just wanted to beat me up all the time, the more I wanted to prove them wrong. Then you came along, and all I wanted to do was to finally stop fighting it. You did that, and it wasn't because you saved my life. It's because you held me after and you didn't let me go. You made me feel safe."
Steve smiled. He cupped Eddie's face and kissed him.
"You made me feel safe, too, right here and right now," Steve said. "Thanks for giving me a place to run to. Hold me?"
"Done."
Eddie dropped the clothes he was holding and pulled Steve onto the bed, right into his safe arms. He didn't have to worry about his parents ever again.
"You're trying to seduce me for my hot chocolate recipe, aren't you?" Steve asked and Eddie laughed.
"You got me!"
Steve smiled as Eddie's laughter caused them both to shake. He pressed his ear close to his chest. He closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of Eddie's heartbeat and laughter.
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skzthelomlhehe · 2 days ago
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Part two is heeerrrreeee~~~ hope y'all enjoy all this brainrot I'm having hahahahaha I lost my mind midway through writing this so idek what I wrote lololol hope it feeds y'alls delulu minds thooo~
MDNI // smutty. Very smutty. // Established relationships // x F!reader
How your boyfriend!skz will react to you waiting for them in a sexy lingerie when they come home after a long day at work. [Ot8] {Pt. 2: maknae line}
Han Jisung
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When i tell you he'll MELT. Like I'm saying FOLDED, WHIMPERING, FUCKING TREMBLING like- believe me or not- THE MAN IS GONNA LOSE HIS MIND. Like just imagine. He had a tough day at work, comes home expecting to like cuddle and whine in your arms and he just walks in on you wearing a lingerie makes you look so so so fucking pretty. He'll stand there on the door way, jaw dropped, whimpering squealing whatever. He's gonna walk up to you and embrace you in the warmest fucking hug, nuzzle into your neck and let you rub his painful bulge over his clothes before letting all that scrumptious milk out along with all his worries after. When you both are done he'd just lay there cuddling you going "oh baby... I love you so much... Fuck why are you so damn beautiful?? You're making me lose my fucking mind here..." And just whine cuz he just can't resist you.
Felix
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Ok so hear me out. When people look at Felix they're usually like 'oh he's just a submissive ball of sunshine' BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HOW MISCHIEVOUS THE MAN IS??? Don't let his cute and innocent, pretty little face fool you, chat. Cuz he's a very sly little kitten and he KNOWS it. I said what I said and I rest my case. When he sees you in that lingerie he's gonna walk up to you without a word, hold your face gently with those little hands, kiss you deeply and go "oh darling... You always know how to get my mind off of things... Didn't know you'd have this under your sleeve too~" in the deepest motherfckn voice ever. {I shit you not- while I was writing this I suddenly started hearing moans from the other room and realised my uncle was watching corn 💀 anyways back to Felix} like- the man is gonna RAVAGE you. He's gonna eat you out like you're the last meal he'll have. He'll let you know how stupidly attractive you looked in those garments with the minimum fabric. He's gonna let you know how fucking scrumptious you are and how much he loves the way you are.
Seungmin
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For seungmin, you'd think he had no feelings or thoughts. He'd walk in, not even surprised by your antiques. He'd probably just walk over to you slowly and then grab you by the waist and whisper into your ear like, "you know I had a bad today... And the things you're doing right now is very very dangerous..." He's the typa guy who would quiet down COMPLETELY when he's upset so when he gets your permission he'd just pick you up, throw you on the bed and feel you like a puppy he is all night long. I feel like he's the type who would whimper and groan in your arms and make the bed CREAKIN iykwim 😉 and instead of doing the work, he would just lay there while you ride him cuz he loves it when you're taking the lead, caressing him, loving him and just... Making him feel like the most loved man ever.
Jeongin
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Ok so- hear me out- let's put aside the 'saving myself for after marriage' thing for a second (while I do respect it, let's just put it aside for a tiny bit) I feel like when he gets home and the first thing he sees is you like that, on their bed, laying there welcoming him, he'd look at you with those foxy slender eyes of his with this sly smirk (if you know what I mean, you know. If you don't, that's sad and I'm so sorry you don't cuz HONEY you're missing out.) once he's done eye fucking you from the door frame he'd just walk up to you like the fox he is (ok but why do I like- imagine him making some tiny fox squeals too???) he'd just go over to you, get on top of you while placing soft wet kisses then whisper in your ear like "is this the surprise you were talking about when I said I was having a bad day earlier, hm? You're such a cutie, yknow that?" And then nibble at the lobe of your ear. People think that he doesn't enjoy physical contact given the way he is (which might be true lol) but I feel like with his lover he'd be just a snuggly fox and a very soft loaf of bread. (And then daddy toastie comes out Lolol)
Once again, these are all my assumptions so please don't take anything seriously it's all just brainrot I've been having. They're their own individuals and I completely respect them and dearly love and cherish them.
That aside, I hope you guys enjoyed!
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