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rotshop · 3 years ago

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help girl i just woke up and im already thinking abt mag s/o again. anyway please consider ;

[ tw body horror, some brief light gore and violence ]

[ note ; reader is SLIGHTLY described. the only thing mentioned is that they have a noticeable, identifying scar on their face

hank + mag s/o

-he knew you even before the boombox incident. he doesn't even really remember how you two first met, he just remembers that you started talking to him and then just kinda kept coming back. at first he wasn't the biggest fan of you since he was 'doing just fine on his own,' but...he admittedly was already really attached to you. they've never been much of a talker and that's especially noticeable to you at that point in time but ,,, they respond enough with signing, nodding / shaking their head, or the occasional speaking that you're able to carry some conversations pretty well.

-he doesn't really. have. a lot of people in his life. you're really his only real close friend, it's kinda hard for him to fully wrap his head around it so !! they chose not to, instead focusing more-so on whatever it was you were rambling to them about that day.

-not super sure of where to put this lmao but ummm ehe . he's actually surprisingly touchy with you????? like. you've hung out at his house a few times and he just like. you'll start out sitting next to each other and you'll end up either laying with your head on their chest or vice versa . its . a little funny . you tease him about it a little and he just flicks your shoulder. also traces your scar a lot if you'll let them, they're not entirely sure why they do it, they just . like asking you about it occasionally.

-also you have scary dog privileges. they might look like any other grunt at that point but they're still tall as fuck and idk man !! something abt getting a blank stare from someone who towers over u would probably make u shut up and mind ur own damn business.

-again, he's not super good at fully recognizing / acknowledging certain thoughts and feelings of his but . yknow. he can definitely tell he at least worries about you a lot more than he would some other grunt he just met. he can definitely tell there's a reason he doesn't mind you touching him, whether by grabbing his hand to go show him something or just placing a hand on his shoulder or arm (most likely arm, again. hes tall. ). they can definitely tell there's a reason that they find themself genuinely enjoying your interactions.

-after the park thing you don't see them for a long time. everytime you try and call him the lines dead, everytime you try and ask others about him you just get choice words, all in all you're pretty much lost on the entire thing. sure, you know what happened but . it just never sits right with you. it doesn't help whenever people ask questions about them or give you wary looks because of your association, half steps back when you take one forward.

-anyway. yeah nevada goes to shit and you get magnified for the aahw. by now you just. don't really talk about hank. surprisingly, you have a little more of your old memories than the average mag !! congrats. problem is they're all foggy enough that you only really distantly decipher them. lmao. you aren't super high on the ladder but you're a pretty tough mag to beat. you're well known enough that other mags tend to hang around you when there's not much else going on. v2 mags especially think it's fun to mess around with you by jumping on your back or otherwise clinging onto you . idk man u've got like . a little family here .

-at one point or another there's an outing youre on that ends up going wrong. you get split up from the rest of your unit and are forced to hide out in some old abandoned building while you wait for backup. you're a little too injured to try and walk all the way back, a heavy gash on your side preventing you from doing too much in the moment. when you hear heavy steps on concrete you're able to give some sort of noise of relief, turning your head to look over your shoulder at whichever agent in your group had finally found you-

-you're instead met with red goggles and the end of a gun.

-any kind of relief is snatched away, you know damn well who it is by just the bit you can see in the dark alone. even standing in the shade between two windows (one of which you were sitting by, probably how they seen you in the first place- if that's the case though, it's a little weird they hadn't just shot at you through it.) you knew it was him. you're already stumblingly forcing yourself up to as much of your full height as you can manage, taking some kind of defensive position even as one of your hands ghosts over your gash. the throbbing pain of it and the feeling of blood sticking and running down your skin is enough that you can't seem to focus on the fact that he won't stop staring at your face.

-it doesn't take long before your legs seem to fail you, forcing you forward a bit as you kneel in some sort of attempt to keep upright. you're too busy hissing under your breath and screwing your eyes shut in pain as your hand covers your side to notice your company stepping forwards. you're snapped back to attention when there's a hand on your face, fingertips digging into your skin as they yank your head down a little further. you know you should be grabbing him, that you should be digging your claws into his torso and ripping him clean in half, throwing whatevers left aside and leaving. you know thats what you were told to do, what you were told they deserved anyway. yet, you aren't. instead, you're just giving some warning growl as you stare at them. you notice how the end of the gun is pointed away from you, how their touch seems to outline the mark on your face.

-"If you try and hurt me, I'll kill you." That's the only real heads up you get before he's crouching down and shoving your hand out of the way, grabbing something from his pocket to get to work on you. you don't fail to notice how little attention they're paying to you (aside from the focus on your wound, of course), that you could just rush forward and slam them into the ground if you really wanted.

-ok im skippin g ahead bc this is already way too goddamn long for hcs DEJWJCS

-anyway. it's a complicated relationship for a while. the others tend to avoid you a little but he just keeps showing up around you. they keep staring at you and just hanging around in your general area. it's not that much of an irritant if you ignore all the weird emotions and thoughts it keeps bringing to the forefront of your mind, forcing you to once again try and meddle with your memories.

-eventually he just starts walking over to you and sitting down next to you. sometimes he doesn't say anything at all, just sitting there and seeming to wait for one thing another- he never seems to find whatever that is, as he always gets up and leaves without a word at some point or another. then they start talking, its just little things at first, point-blank statements you can't say much on. sometimes they're just saying they and the other three will be gone for a bit othertimes it's some half-demand to let them look at the stitches they did on you (semi-related, he's not good at them. the stitches are pretty rough. at one point or another sanford has to redo them properly lmao)

-but then there's one particular night. they do the normal thing, come over, sit down next to you, not say a word. this time though you note how they're facing you. instead of some reminder or a demand for anything, he's pulling his ask down and asking a simple question. 'What do you remember?'

-it's a long conversation. he's talking more than he normally would by a long shot, occasionally stopping whenever his words seem to especially fail him and get stuck in his throat. you don't even really remember moving around, or even him pulling you in any way, you just know you somehow end up laying next to him with your head on his chest.

-whenever the memories do seem to click into place, it's hard. you have a lot of choice words for them yourself, months of being left alone without a word bubbling up with a vengeance, they listen to them. while some mags (such as yourself) do have the ability to speak, the san and dei don't think they've ever heard one with that much emotion in their voice. they've especially never seen a mag just break down like you do, they're both tensing up a little from their far away spot when hank's walking closer to you. instead of you lashing out or swiping at him though, you just sit there while he wraps his arms around you (as best as he can at least, it's a little difficult but he's able to get them around your neck and reach his other hand behind you well enough). you're eventually doing the same to him, though it's more so just your hands resting on their back.

-it takes a good while for proper trust to be rebuilt along with an honest, proper explanation from hank that only you're privy to. eventually though, there's enough trust that you're able to hang around him again without narrowly avoiding an argument or anything. they don't like being super affectionate or 'vulnerable' in front of the other two, so most times they prefer being in your or their room. also they're still touchy lmao, doesn't help that you're mag sized now and so they just want to hold you . its hard to explain, he's never been super affected by others heights and even when he is it's usually a negative thing for him but . for some reason . he just likes being shorter / smaller than you lol ,,,,,,,, hope you like holding them a lot bc that's what you're gonna be doing

-holy shit these are long so . i think .i am going to stop here.

#hank j wimbleton x reader #madcom x reader #madness combat x reader #madcom imagines #madness combat imagines #rot writes #hank 'jmy s/o is twice my size and could turn me into a fine wine if they really wanted to and i love them for it' wimbleton

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grapesodatozier · 3 years ago

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so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

#reddie #notsfw #reddie smut #reddie fic

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dancingazaleas · 3 years ago

Text

miche zacharias | beauty & the beast

this is for @izukine ‘s ‘fairy tale and mythical creatures’ collab! love you so much liyah <333

tagging: @yeagerslut @xenihime @fiaficsxo @mitsuluv @sukunas-lady @onyxoverride @rintarouss (cus ur a miche fucker. sorry for not warning u abt the tag)

edit: this is unedited, i’m so sorry for any typos.

warnings/tags: cursing, eventual smut, smut, nsfw, romantic sex, size kink(i guess if u squint?), fingering, oral sex/cunnilingus, missionary sex, vanilla

miche was always just a little bigger than anyone around him. he stood like a skyscraper at 6’5, towering over all of his peers. he was more broad one would be at the chest, a tailor once said his bust was around 150 centimeters.

miche was seen as an absolute beast because of this. and it didn’t help that miche’s hair was shaggy, stubble coating his upper lip and jaw, and he had a sniffing problem. he thinks the nose is really what sold everyone.

and in effect, miche was feared. feared by the people in his village, and sometimes even by his own friends. the dark and looming castle he lives in was where he forced to, along with his companions that stood up for the meek man that they called a beast.

the village often sent people who they’ve decided to shun to his estate, expecting for the beast to kill them in cold blood.

in reality, he just sent them to the next village over. he didn’t feel like being disturbed.

it was nothing different when he saw you running to him, tears falling from your pretty eyes while consistently looking over your shoulder. behind you, he noticed a crowd with pitchforks along with torches, screaming for you to get back here to burn you at the stake.

“help!” you cry, “help!”

you stumbled over your own feet, hands clamping down onto his clothed biceps and sobbing while looking at him.

“the next village over is—“

“no! sir, no matter where i go,” you shake your head rapidly, “i will be hunted. hunted for reading the books!”

you looked so desperate clinging onto him, eyes flashing when you cry once more, “you’re the only one who can help me!”

he looks back to the crowd that nears the gates of his home, silently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to his chest. the crowd skids to a stop, especially when miche steps forward and manages to yank a pitchfork from their hands.

“this girl is with me,” he announces, jabbing at the air to back them up, “leave now or die.”

the crowd gapes at the sight of you gathered to his chest, but backs off nonetheless. there was nothing they could do against the man that they call a beast.

miche leads you into his home, introducing you to friendly faces that were spread across the house.

“what happened?! did you get rid of the—whoa-ho-ho! who’s this beauty, michey,” someone with messy brown hair exclaims, eyepatch covering their left eye.

“hanji! quit being so disrespectful,” a man follows behind them, tugging them by their shoulders from behind.

“this young maiden was followed by a mob. she read the forbidden books, based off of her words she’s said to me. they planned on hunting her down even if she goes to the next village over,” he leads you past them to a bathroom.

“that’s saddening,” a baritone voice said, the frown evident in his voice, “she's staying with us i’m assuming?”

if his voice wasn’t enough to make you feel small, his looks definitely were. a blond man with bushy eyebrows and a prosthetic arm stood in front of you with something that you can say was a gentle smile. behind him lingered a shorter man, bags hanging from his eyes, one of which had a scar running through it and down to his lip.

“no shit, erwin. miche isn’t heartless,” the crude words make you crack a smile.

miche ignores their comments, “where’s nanaba? she needs a bath and i don’t fully trust her to be alone.”

“what am i needed for,” a feminine person waltzes into the room, a light look on her face.

“this young maiden needs to be bathed with a loose eye on them,” nanaba gently takes your hands into their own.

“what?! why couldn’t i do it?!”

“because you can barely bathe yourself, shitty glasses,” levi grunts and sits on a plush couch in front of the warm fire. you notice he has two prosthetic fingers.

nanaba leads you away before you can hear hanji’s response. you open your mouth to ask a question, but find yourself stuck on what to address nanaba as.

“you can address me as whatever makes you comfortable,” you find that she’s peering at you from over her shoulder.

“oh! i’m so sorry,” you sniffle.

“don’t worry about it, you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. now, what was on your mind?”

“that man… miche, i think the townspeople called him, he’s really kind. he saved me from being burned,” you murmur loud enough for her to hear, “why?”

nanaba took you into a bathroom room and shut the door behind her, “i can’t say i know. the last person he took in was levi, and it wasn’t exactly his choice, more of erwin’s. i think he smells something in you.”

“that’s right, the townspeople wrote that he had the nose of a dog.”

“he does. he’s usually able to tell if someone is good or not just by their scent,” she turns on the bath, “i think he likes you.”

you deny her statement with a laugh, fanning your hand just before you get undressed. you doubt that a beast such as himself could like someone like you.

————

months passed, and as the days went on you found yourself falling in love with miche. the same man who used ‘beauty’ as a nickname for you would bathe in how you’d give a bashful and swat his arm.

truly, he was more like a bear. big and scary, but also cuddly—as much as a bear could really be—and soft. miche had a heart of gold, that much was obvious when he started to wear it on his sleeve.

he cherished his time with you, even if others were around and he wanted you to himself. he loves the wandering gazes you give when you sit under the wisteria tree in his garden. the look of curiosity that brightens your face, eyes wide and staring at the world he used to think was cruel.

miche tried not to be a sap. he hadn’t ever since he was born, and he didn’t want to start now. but he couldn’t help it.

if the world that shamed him and hurt him was able to create such a kind yet sarcastic beauty, then maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

but he was scared of hurting you. in more ways than one. mentally, miche was a quiet and seemingly unaffectionate person, even with someone he loved. miche also had a tendency to be blunt at times, and it has made you upset on multiple occasions.

physically, however, miche’s terrified of being with you just because of it. as you’ve observed, miche isn’t exactly small..

but you practically make him feel as such.

especially right now as you crack jokes with him and teaching him how to waltz. it doesn’t help that you’re leading the dance and that he was stumbling over your feet.

“miche, step this way with me,” you’re incredibly patient.

“i’m scared i’ll step on your foot,” you give him a stare.

“you already have,” you laugh, “it’s okay if you step on my foot, you’ll get the hang of it.”

eventually, he’s able to synchronize his steps with your’s. you trade off the leadership to him, hands on his shoulders. he fumbles a lot more than before, leading to you fumbling over him as well. your shoe presses into his own, and you wince for him while muttering an apology. he’s about to tell you it’s fine, but before he can, he’s stepped on your dress. you yelp and instinctively cling onto miche as you fall onto miche’s bed, dragging him with you.

his arm is immediately at the small of your back and his other hand manages to hold himself up. you flop back onto the mattress when he takes his arm away, cheeks flushed red as he stared down at you.

you look so pretty under him, hair spread beneath you and hands laying next to your head palms up. your pretty lips are parted and your eyes are wide and fluttering.

when he realizes he’s staring, he starts to get ready to get off of you.

“wait!” you gently hold his biceps, stopping his once abrupt movement.

your arms reluctantly and slowly wrap around his neck, eyes darting continuously to his face and to your arms. miche’s breath gets caught in his chest when you pull his face closer to your’s.

“miche… can i kiss you,” you whisper, breath tickling his skin.

miche’s too afraid to speak, so he nods.

your lips start to tingling whenever they’re connected to miche’s heat embarrassingly shooting through your body and to your tummy.

when he pulls away, you accidentally let out a whimper and rub your thighs together. miche’s face lights up again at how needy you look underneath him.

he kisses you again, intertwining his fingers with yours and leaning his weight onto them. he subtly shimmies your body up the mattress, tongue poking at the inside of your mouth. it elicits a soft moan from you, the noise shooting sparks straight to miche’s cock.

“love you,” he sighs with his lips trailing down your neck, large hands shyly starting to grope at your chest.

“love you too,” you bite your lip, watching him undo the buttons at the front of your shirt.

“is this all okay,” his lips tickle your skin as he drags them across the skin of your collarbones.

“yes… yes,” you mumble, slipping out of the shirt and your bra and throwing it somewhere across miche’s room.

miche nibbles at the skin on your breasts, fingers pinching your nipples. you sigh dreamily, hips wiggling from where they lay on the bed. he kisses down your tummy and slips the skirt you’re wearing off of your body.

you’re wearing plain white panties, embarrassment hitting you like a truck. miche doesn’t seem to care at all though, just slips them down your leg and throws them somewhere in his room.

you put a hand on your chest when he spreads your legs, trying to regulate your almost erratic breathing. you couldn’t believe that this was even happening.

soft pecks tickle your calf, slowly trailing up to your thigh and to the trimmed hair of your labia. breaths grow heavy when his tongue hesitantly prods at clit, fingers digging themselves into the wild sheets of his bed.

after seeing your small flinches, miche closes his lips around the bud. you immediately throw your head back as he starts to suck and lick at it, electricity shooting down to your toes that are curled over his shoulders.

he slips a large finger into you, bending it with caution. you buck your hips with a throaty moan, sealing your eyes closed when miche picked up the velocity of his pace.

unlike with waltzing, miche was getting the hang of it fast. so fast that he’s already slipping a second finger into you, thrusting it at a teasing pace that wouldn’t be able to get you off.

you cry out, the scent of pleasure coating your entire body. it has miche groaning against your clit, a loud and desperate moan being let out in response.

miche’s slipping in a third finger, continuously thrusting in and out whilst curling them.

“miche! miche!” you let a hand get tangled in his hair, gently tugging as if you were trying to rut against his face.

“gonna cum—oh my god! i’m gonna cum,” you whine breathlessly and miche continues at his pace.

you cum seconds later, legs trembling from where they lay over his shoulders. he pulls away and immediately wipes away your juices off of his face with the back of his hand, immediately rewarding you with a sweet and passionate kiss on your lips. you whimper against his rough lips, fingers tugging at the shirt he still had on.

he chuckles when he pulls away, hastily taking off his seemingly elegant clothing and throwing the sheets over your bodies.

miche knew it was going to make you both hot. and miche knew he was paranoid of anyone walking in, even though he knew that everyone wouldn’t bother him. but still, the sheets acted as a shield from the world.

this time was only for the two of you, no one else.

his hand pumps his cock whenever he starts to guide it to your stretched out slit. you don’t exactly realize just how big miche actually is until the head of his cock is pushing into you.

the sting that shoots through your body is immediate, and you immediately cling onto his back. you bite your lip whenever he keeps slipping himself in, pausing when you’ve managed to get a quarter of his cock inside of you.

you pant as tears prick the corner of your eyes, trying to relax your obviously tense body as miche tries to distract you with soft and gentle kisses. he whispers how good you're doing, even rubbing circles into your clit with the pad of his thumb to help loosen the tension.

when you calm down and tell him that you're ready, he continues to slip into you with slowed movements. the stretch is more painful than before and as he slides deeper and deeper into you, you feel like his cock gets bigger with each inch. you stop him again, taking deep breaths and telling yourself that you can do it. you only had a few more inches left, then you would feel good.

when he finally bottoms out, your breath leaves your chest. it feels like he’s in your throat and the intense feeling makes you cry again.

“so full, ‘m so full miche,” you whimper while he wipes away the tears from your face.

“i know, love, it’ll feel good soon,” his voice soothes you.

when you calm down again, the realization at how every part of miche’s cock reaches you comes down upon you.

“m-move, please, move,” carefully wrapping your legs around his waist, you whisper in his ear.

his thrusts start off slowly and deep, moans falling from your lips each time he bottoms out and the tip of his cock hits your cervix. when he realizes that you’re alright, he speeds up his pace.

the way he ruts into you makes you produce a broken scream, scratching at his back and throwing your head back. you’re already starting to feel that certain knot in your tummy again, and you wanted to try to hold it back but the orgasm crashes into you unexpectedly.

you sound so broken underneath him, digging your nails into his skin and squeezing him close to you.

“fuck! thank you, thank you,” you sob, “love you, love your cock.”

he grunts in response, ignoring how your walls suffocate him. he doesn’t help you ride out the orgasm, only speeding up his pace to chase after his own orgasm.

you whine at the sound of his skin slapping against your’s, heat spreading down to your chest. you’re going to come again with the way miche jackhammers into you desperately.

“miche, miche! fuck—please!” your vision whites out as your body thrashes under miche’s hold.

miche can’t ignore how hard your walls grip onto his cock, groans spilling out of his mouth as his orgasm creeps over him.

he orgasms with a breathy grunt, grinding his hips into yours and pumping his cum into you.

when he comes down from the euphoric high, he kisses your lips. your eyelids are heavy after miche pulls his softening cock out of you.

“love you,” he mumbles against your skin after he’s fetched a wet rag and cleaned you up.

you hum in response, too tired and weak to even reciprocate with words. luckily, he knows what you were trying to say. he pulls you into his warm chest, a soft and satisfied hum falling from your lips.

you drift off with his hand rubbing your back. the last thing you remember thinking was that miche was definitely a beast in some aspects.

#izukine’s 500 event <3 #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #sorrels.moots🌷#aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #miche x reader #miche aot #miche zacharias #mike x reader #mike aot #mike zacharias

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s1utspeare · 3 years ago

Note

Ooooh. Either "Take off your shirt. Don't give me that look" or "What was that? You winced" for foba. >.>

gaia i love u and because i love u ur getting BOTH.

Send me a prompt and some characters and I'll write some whump!

There are difficulties in life, and Ba-ye can see some of them, the little ones, the unimportant ones, the ones that tell him to bring an umbrella, or not to ride a horse because the fall from a donkey is much shorter, or to kiss Fo-ye in the dark corner of a collapsing teahouse because they might not get a chance otherwise (though that was less of a premonition and more of a do it, Tiezui, when else will he be here?).

Very rarely, very occasionally, he can see an Important one clearly, and he'll have some idea of what's coming, can warn Fo-ye and the others, and that's enough for Fo-ye to keep him around. Most often, though, it's just feelings, things that say, we'll get out alive but it'll be close, or if you go in that tomb you'd better have a flashlight because all the torches are going to go out, or you'll be bankrupt after this, Zhang Qishan, but at the same time richer than you ever were before.

He never predicted the war.

In that instance, Fo-ye had been the more perceptive one between them, able to see the patterns in the politics and the way that Japanese soldiers kept swarming their cities, an infiltration that no one was quite able to keep out. They tried, but the Japanese were emboldened and determined and supported by Germany and Italy. They had technically been there since 1937, filling the larger cities like Beiping and Shanghai, and Changsha is just a stop on their overarching conquest, though to the rest of them, to the people that live there, it is far more than that. It's their first and last line of defense, and it's their home.

Maybe that's why they fight so fiercely. They have people to protect.

It's September 22nd, 1939, and Qi Tiezui is crouched behind a stack of hay bales in a slowly dissolving barn. His back is pressed against the straw, which pokes through his changshan, making him itch. He doesn’t dare move, though, because Zhang Qishan is pressed to the front of him, using his own body as something of a shield, or maybe more like a hiding place, as he stares between the hay bales with eyes like mirrors, though Tiezui can’t see anything reflected in them.

They’ve been outrunning a troupe of Japanese soldiers for over an hour now, and had gotten separated from the rest of Fo-ye’s men, the handful that they have left. The vast majority of those on the frontline, Fo-ye’s stalwart companions, have either fallen to injury or worse, and they’d been running out of options for who was going to take the information to Cunqianjie, where their backup is supposed to be stationed.

Ba-ye, technically, is not supposed to be here, but Zhang Rishan had been caught up in the poison gas at Xinqiang River three days earlier, and though he had survived, is currently unconscious in a battlefield medic’s tent, still within the front lines. Normally, he would go with Fo-ye for these sorts of missions. Er-ye would have been Fo-ye’s second choice, probably, but Er-ye’s still pushing himself too hard after taking a bullet for Fo-ye five days previously, and Fo-ye had refused to let him come.

So Ba-ye had done the calculations, and even though everything was fuzzy and waterlogged, had determined that neither of them would die on this mission, and had volunteered to accompany Fo-ye to Cunqianjie.

He can’t bring himself to regret it, either, even though they’re pinned down by enemy soldiers and darkness and a wild, paralyzing fear that Ba-ye has yet to get used to, even though he’s been feeling it constantly for almost a week now.

Above him, Fo-ye exhales, and his arms go just slightly lax, which tells Ba-ye that the danger has passed for now.

“Did they leave?” he whispers, wiggling to try and see over the hay bales himself, but Fo-ye just stands up, making sure that he’s still mostly hidden in the shadows and the hay, and nods.

“They’ll be back,” he says. “But we can afford to rest for a few moments.”

Ba-ye nods eagerly. He wouldn’t call himself weak or unprepared, but he definitely does not like running so far and so fast, and he’ll appreciate any rest he can get. He’ll need it in order to fulfill the demands of this mission.

Fo-ye steps back to the wall, sliding his back down it to sit on the ground, and it might be a trick of the light, but Ba-ye is well-attuned to Fo-ye’s expressions, and he does not miss the flicker of discomfort that he sees there.

“What was that?” he asks, and Fo-ye looks at him, face blank and smooth.

“What?”

“You winced,” Ba-ye says, squinting at Fo-ye as if that will help him to determine if the man is lying to him or not. “Why did you wince?”

“I didn’t,” Fo-ye says, and Ba-ye is reminded that Zhang Qishan is a terrible liar.

“You did,” Ba-ye replies, and then leans forward, trying to grab Fo-ye’s arms and figure out what he’s trying to hide. “Tell me, come on, let me see—”

“Ba-ye,” Fo-ye says exasperatedly. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not going to be nothing in a few hours when you suddenly drop dead on me!” Ba-ye exclaims furiously, not impressed with Zhang Qishan’s tendency to try and protect him from himself.

“You said that neither of us was going to die.”

“I also said that the premonition was fuzzy,” Ba-ye says, reaching forward to undo the top buttons on Fo-ye’s shirt, and Zhang Qishan moves away from him sharply, a little too scandalized in Ba-ye’s opinion, as if they haven’t already undressed in front of each other, and then his breath folds in on itself again, and a knot forms between his eyebrows, and one hand comes up to clutch his ribs.

“Ha!” Ba-ye exclaims, pointing. “See? There. You are hiding something.”

“Ba-ye,” Fo-ye says wearily. “Forget it. Please.”

“No,” Ba-ye says. “Would you let me off that easily? I’m not going to stop bothering you until you take off your shirt.” The expression Fo-ye gives him is just a hair’s short of amusement, and Ba-ye rolls his eyes. “Don’t give me that look. Shirt. Off. Now.”

“We said we were going to wait until things calmed down for that,” Fo-ye murmurs, but his fingers are already undoing the buttons by his collar as steadily as he can.

“This is not sexy,” Ba-ye informs him. “This is making sure that you don’t collapse on me because you forgot to tell me you got stabbed, and are bleeding out like a martyr.”

“I didn’t get stabbed,” Fo-ye says, finishing the removal of his shirt with only minimal wincing, until he’s sitting bare-chested in a barn in front of Tiezui, and he can see the purple-painted splotches ensconcing Fo-ye’s ribs.

He sucks in air through his teeth. “Fo-ye!”

“Just cracked,” Fo-ye says, as if there’s anything just about that. “The pin grenade.”

Ah, yes. Ba-ye remembers now, fifteen minutes earlier, when they had been separated from the others by an explosion that Fo-ye had shoved him out of the way of. Ba-ye’s dirty and a little scratched up, but Fo-ye clearly took the brunt of the blast, which Ba-ye should have expected, because it had thrown Fo-ye side-first into a wall.

“You should’ve said something,” he grumbles, reaching into the sack he has slung across his body and taking out a roll of bandages that he had stolen from their supplies before they had left, something telling him that they would be necessary.

“When?” Fo-ye asks, sounding genuinely curious, and Ba-ye wants to punch him.

“Hold still,” he says instead, and begins concentrating very hard on wrapping Fo-ye’s ribs, binding them tightly so that he’ll hopefully be able to get through the rest of the this without damaging them further.

Fo-ye, for his part, does hold still, which is appreciated. The sun is starting to set, so there’s not much light filtering into the barn for Tiezui to see by, and he doesn’t want to do this too loosely. They stay quiet as he works, and Fo-ye doesn’t so much as flinch, even when Ba-ye ties the bandage off tightly.

“Thank you,” he says once Ba-ye has finished, and Ba-ye nods, sitting back against the hay and blowing the hair out of his eyes.

“Tell me next time,” he says, “I’m going to be very upset with you if I have to find out myself.”

“You’ll be upset with me anyway,” Fo-ye says.

“True,” Ba-ye murmurs underneath a sigh, gazing at the other man with him, his face sharp and angular in the barn shadows, and then he leans forward, feeling the press of the thick stack of written information hidden inside his clothing, and kisses Zhang Qishan.

“Come on,” he says when he pulls back, hoping that this won’t be the last chance he has. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

#i fucking love these dumbasses #ahahahahlgsihaslfkjsadf #also very into post-season one m9 #want to write more of that if NPSS won't GIVE ME SEASON TWO #>:(#anyway after this they get to the river and the japanese troops are bearing down on them again #and fo ye is like go i'll hold them off #and baye is like no the fuck i wont #but foye convinces him #saying that he'll be right behind him #and so baye crosses the river in the dark #trying not to drown #but he finds the backup and gives them the intel #and then he waits for fo ye #and waits #(:#maybe i'll finish this one at some point bc i like it but who knows #ANYWAY. WHUMP. YEAH.#dmbj #ask game #prompt fill #mystic nine #yes there's foba and what about it #my writing #fic #fo ye holy fuck #i love ba ye actually #oH RIGHT i did do some research about changsha and china in wwii for this #but as always i am not of chinese heritage and do not have very much knowledge of chinese history #so if i made a mistake or got anything wrong please feel free to correct me!

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krappykawa · 4 years ago

Note

I read your s/o who likes to read hcs and was wondering if you could do the same request format or whatever it is you'd call it but with terishima,akaashi, iwa, Oikawa,and Daichi? Sorry if that's a lot! -anon

with a s/o that likes to read (part 2)

— iwaizumi, oikawa, terushima, daichi, and akaashi

word count. 1.4k

genre. fluff

note. i made these ones shorter than the ones in part two because anon requested a lot of characters and i didn’t wanna run out of headcanons to write,,, i hope you still like this though!

part one here

IWAIZUMI.

- will read the books that you’re reading just because he likes the feeling of being able to bond with you over something you love since you’re so supportive of him already (literally the perfect man. perfect bf. give me a kiss rn RN!!)

- maybe not all of them, but if you get him hooked on the description, then he will probably finish the book faster than you

- if he doesn’t like a book very much he’ll take ages to finish it though

- if you ask him about how he’s doing with reading it he’ll be like “oh i’m almost done” when in reality he’s only 20 pages in

- he’ll send you texts about the books you recommend but they’ll be super blunt like “this character just died” or “oh they kissed”

- you sit at your phone for 20 minutes debating on how to respond to those because HOW??

- he loves cuddles,,,, would literally die for cuddles

- so when you climb into his lap with a book in hand and bury your head in his neck as you read his heart literally malfunctions

- his cute s/o with their reading obsession that he secretly finds so endearing climbing into his lap for cuddle time,,,,,, his heart goes &2:$84!;💞💖💘💖💓💖💞/):&38,

- iwaizumi.exe has stopped working

- but he’s also not afraid to pull you into his lap if he sees you reading on the couch

- he’ll probably put on a monster movie and just hold you as you read and he watches

- probably also buried his nose in your hair and revels in your scent (also kisses your head every so often because he can’t help it and AHHHH HES SO CUTE)

- when you start sending him messages about your books, he will attempt to respond to every single text or he will just wait until you’re done and text back with “u done?” (not in a mean way though) there’s no inbetween

- he’s smiling every time you send him those texts though

- aoba johsai’s volleyball team (ESPECIALLY OIKAWA) teases him mercilessly if they ever catch him smiling at his phone in the locker room or during class or during lunch (basically u text him a lot lol)

- sometimes when you slam your book shut and scream into your pillow, he will just watch you with amused eyes and probably make an offhand comment that’s similar to “remember to breathe while you’re at it.”

- you end up throwing the pillow at him (which he catches and then proceeds to walk to where you are and swing you over his shoulder)

- get your mind out of the gutter on the “over his shoulder” part i swear he’s just teasing you for throwing a pillow at him (I CAN FEEL YOUR MIND WANDERING STOP IT)

OIKAWA.

- he makes an effort to read your books, really he does

- he’s just really busy, so most of the books he promises he will read stay only half way read through and never picked up ever again

- if you give him a sci-fi book though, this man will literally finish it at an insane pace

- literally he would be the one to text you at some ungodly hour (usually 3AM in the morning) because he just finished the book in one sitting and he’s literally brimming with reactions

- will text things like “WHAT THE FUCK HE JUST DIED”, “YN SEND HELP I THINK THEY’RE ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING STUPID”, “OH MY GODDDD I HATE THIS BITCH CAN THEY STOP TALKING” (always in all caps whenever he’s reacting to a book)

- you better pray that he doesn’t end up hating a character because he will text you every single time they show up on a page and complain about them

- “this character reminds me of ushijima why would you put me through this 🤕🤕”

- or “THEYRE TALKING AGAIN?? WHEN WILL THEY GET THE MEMO THAT I WANT THEM TO . ST F U ‼️😻”

- anyways, if it’s not sci-fi, it’s probably sitting on his nightstand and never touched again until you steal the book back

- CLAIMS he tried reading them (he got 2 pages in and then put it down)

- he is also a huge cuddler

- but you will not be able to read in his lap because he’s so fucking whiny

- “y/n-channn pay attention to meeee. you can read about that insanely hot dude in your book when you’re not already sitting in an insanely hot dude’s lap”

- big pouty face

- it works every single time and you hate him for it

- once you put your book down he will not let you go for a good ten minutes

- he also has tons of pictures of you reading on his phone because he thinks you’re so cute and feels like he has to snap a picture so he can remember how cute you looked at that very moment

- a lot like iwaizumi, oikawa will attempt to reply to every single one of your book related texts (except oikawa succeeds at replying to every single one)

- like you could literally send him fifty text messages in a row and you will get fifty replies back

TERUSHIMA.

- i am so sorry to say this but i genuinely cannot see terushima being interested in your books whatsoever

- he thinks that it’s boring and always questions how you can just sit down for hours on end and just read

- this changes when you give him one of those insane, mind-boggling, really dark, murder-mystery books

- he’ll scoff at it but after a lot of begging on your part, he’ll give it a try

- he loves it

- he told you that he never got bored and that feeling like that while reading a book is so weird to him

- that is the only book you’ll ever get him to read though (okay maybe he’ll read a few more if you beg him for it with that cute pouty face of yours that he cannot resist)

- like he’ll treat that murder mystery book as a holy grail and insist that nothing will ever top it

- i’m sorry again but he probably texts you “what u doing rn?” and if you say something about reading he’ll try to get you to do literally anything else (most likely will send a horny text to try and steal you away from your reading, let’s be honest here)

- “come over baby you can experience all that you’re reading in that book first hand 😏😏😏”

- if you send him text reactions of your book he will most likely reply with “awe babe ur so cute” but not say anything about the books in itself (IM SORRY HE’S NOT MEAN ABOUT IT THOUGH)

- cuddling with him while reading will never happen

- seriously

- he will do everything in his power to get you to put the book down

- like start peppering you with kisses or tickling you

- he just can’t stand sitting down in silence for so long lol

- he doesn’t put you down for reading though

- like yeah he might not understand it and thinks it’s boring, but he admires that you care so much about it and also admires your commitment

DAICHI.

- admires you for reading honestly

- like i feel like he’s the type to get really good grades but will not look at a book that he hasn’t been assigned to read for his life

- that being said, he probably has never read any of the books you ask him to read with you

- he’s told you he’s read one or two which is a lie (you know it’s a lie but you don’t tell him that because you know he feels bad about not reading them)

- he isn’t on his phone often so most of the time your texts don’t get answered for hours

- it’s kinda fun that way though because after a while you just start sending him long text threads and it’s like talking to yourself

- when he does respond it’s with something like “you look like you had fun there” (after that he’ll apologize for not seeing it and then ask if you had anything else about the book that you wanted to tell him about AWEHISHFNF)

- very good listener!! he’ll try and have a genuine conversation about the book even if he hasn’t read it (like if you want to talk about how you think the plot doesn’t work, he will either support you or give you valid reasons that sparks constructive conversation)

- will absolutely never see the texts you send at 1AM (until the morning) because he always passes out before 11PM

- will see them in the morning and will text back “well good morning to me”

- he has absolutely no clue what you’re talking about in the texts but tries his hardest to be supportive

- cuddling while you’re reading happens nearly every single time you’re together

- is very stressed from dealing with his volleyball children so he’ll more than happily sit on the couch and cuddle with you as you read

- sometimes he falls asleep while you cuddle and you just snuggle into him and it’s so cute

AKAASHI.

- THIS LITTLE SHIT

- man oh man he loves acting like a smart ass whenever you text him about your books

- you’ll be like “my favorite character just died!!” and he’ll be like “well tell them to not die then wtf”

- will stay up late texting you about your book though because he’s most likely reading it with you so you two can bounce ideas off of each other

- if you like a character that he hates he will not hesitate to start a debate about why you shouldn’t like that character (full one page of reasons. this man takes his opinions very seriously)

- if you’re together at his house or something and you start yelling at your book he’ll be like “y/n don’t hurt its feelings.”

- you momentarily pause your yelling to deadpan him

- he stares right back

- “just be nice.” (you’re like BWAH???)

- HE ALSO YELLS AT HIS BOOKS THOUGH

- it’s uncommon but it does happen

- if you’re both reading or you’re doing homework and he’s reading, he’ll slam the book shut and yell about how stupid this character is (and when i mean yell, i mean yell)

- and if he doesn’t like the ending of something he will rant for days and you’ll have to remind him to take a breath

- he gets so hyped up from reading books it’s so cute

- will read with you when you cuddle read (does that make sense??? like when you cuddle with him while reading)

- will mumble things under his breath while you’re both reading but you’re on his lap so you can hear everything and you just laugh

- one time he mumbled “stupid bitch just fucking die already” to this character he hated

- you had to put down the book because you were laughing so hard

#oikawa x reader #oikawa headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #terushima x reader #terushima headcanons #daichi x reader #daichi headcanons #akaashi x reader #akaashi headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons

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jobean12-blog · 5 years ago

Note

Reader decides it would be funny to hide all of beefy buckys shirts and replace them with smaller ones as a prank to cause him problems, little did she know the problem would be for her as her smoking hot boyfriend is now walking around in really tight shirts and is a fucking tease. Nat notices this problem and decides to be a little shit and says something like “damn if u don’t get ur man I might have to for u😉”. Reader does not like that, jumps on bucky, and he gives her the ride of her life

Where is my Shirt?

Pairings: Beefy Bucky x reader

Word Count: 2,024

Summary: Hiding Bucky’s shirts seemed like a good idea at first…

Author’s Note: Let’s be real here, I would do anything to see Beefy Bucky in a tight shirt and then get to see him out of it! This was so fun to write and I hope you enjoy it my friend

Warnings: Fluffy fun and Smut! Bucky being hot in tee shirts (18 + eyes only please :)

“Hey babe?” Bucky questions, his head half stuffed into the closet as you admire his ass and reply, “yes, Buck?” “Have you seen my plain blue tee shirt; you know the really soft one I like to wear to bed?” he asks, poking his head out and eyeing you suspiciously. “You took it didn’t you?” he says, and it comes out as more of a statement than a question, “is it in the wash?” “Listen, baby, I didn’t take it and I don’t know where it is, I do love the shirt but I’m telling you the truth,” you answer, holding your hands up in mock surrender.

He walks toward you, eyebrows raised and a silly smirk on his face, “are you sure, it isn’t under here is it?” he asks as he lifts your shirt up and tickles you, “what about here?” he asks, turning you around and grabbing your ass. You can’t stop laughing, “omg, Bucky, why would your shirt be in my pants, you’re just looking for a cheap excuse to touch me,” you joke, but really you don’t want him to stop and he knows it.

The next thing you know he has you caged against the wall, hips pinned against yours and his arousal evident, “I need to get to the gym doll, you know Steve hates when I’m late,” he growls, rubbing circles into your sides. Just as you’re about to tell him to fuck the gym and fuck you instead, Steve knocks on the door, yelling to hurry up and effectively ruining the moment.

Bucky’s head falls to your neck as he whispers filthy promises about later, you moan and push him away, “better hurry, baby, and find a shirt!” you yell as you walk toward the bathroom to get ready for your day.

You hear the door shut a minute later and quietly open the bathroom door and peek out, checking for Bucky. He left so you run over to the hallway closet and check behind your feminine product stash and see that the pile of his normal tee shirts is still there, giggling to yourself as you close the door.

You and Bucky had recently had a conversation about his tee shirts and why they were so damn big on him. You didn’t understand why he couldn’t get a smaller size and he spent about an hour explaining that he wanted them to be comfortable so he could move and work out in them easily. You argued that they didn’t show off his beefy muscles enough. He just blushed sweetly and laughed, shaking his head and telling you how cute you were, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

That’s how you find yourself in the current predicament, standing in the kitchen with Nat as Bucky and Steve return from the gym, Bucky wearing one of the tee shirts he found in the closet, one of smaller ones you planted there…and boy were you right. Every dip and plane of his chest is on display and the short sleeves are stretched so tight around his biceps it looks like they may rip at any moment. They are a bit shorter on him too, so if he lifts his arms only slightly, his Adonis belt is visible as well as the sexy peek-a-boo of his boxer briefs.

Your mouth is most definitely hanging open. Bucky most definitely notices. You are staring at him and it’s amazing how you watch the pieces click together for him; why he can’t find his old shirts, why the smaller ones were in the closet and the person behind it all.

His grin becomes devilish, but he says nothing, only walks toward you at the counter, leaning close as he reaches up to get a glass for some water. You know he can hear the way your breath hitches, “I never found my shirt, baby girl, but this one was in the closet along with some others so at least I have ones to wear now,” he says, tone laced with cheekiness.

“Ok, great, glad you found something, looks good, Buck” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady and eyes on his. He gives you a heart stopping smile and saunters back to Steve who looks completely confused but simply shrugs it off and asks Bucky what he wants to eat for their post workout meal.

You slip out of the kitchen and head toward your room, hoping Bucky doesn’t follow right away. You need a minute to cool off and possibly move his normal tee shirts back into his closet. You get inside and go to grab a drink, hearing the door open and close again and curse yourself silently, “y/n, where are you,” he asks, as he moves around the space. “Just grabbing a drink babe,” you reply, and he finds you to tell you, “Steve wants to go out to the burger place on the corner, why don’t you come with us, I think Nat and Wanda are coming too.”

“Sounds great, I haven’t eaten yet,” you tell him, and you move to get changed to go out. “Perfect, I’m just gonna take a real fast shower and change, be right out,” he says, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before walking to the bathroom.

Less than ten minutes later he comes into the small living room, freshly showered and wearing a clean and very small tee shirt. “Ok, let’s go, doll, I’m starving,” he says, holding his hand out for you. You grab it and he pulls you up and brings you into his chest, whispering, “maybe I can have you for dessert,” making you audibly swallow but you try to cover it up with a kiss.

The whole time you’re at the burger joint you can’t stop staring at him. The tee shirt is blue so not only does it fit so deliciously tight over his muscles, but it brings out the color in his eyes. You know he must have figured you out because he keeps touching you more than usual. He always has his hands on you, but this is more intense and teasing.

Nat finally says something, “what the hell is your problem, y/n, you keep staring at your man like you want to devour him but the only thing you’ve eaten for the past hour are a couple of fries.” Your mouth hangs open as you stare at her in silence, the embarrassment and anger building but before you can give her a sassy reply, she continues, her tone light but taunting, “if you’re not going to do something about how fine he looks in those tight shirts then allow me to help out.”

You’re not sure how you move so fast but the next thing you know is you have Bucky by the hand and you’re dragging him out of the restaurant and back to the tower. You can almost hear Nat’s cackles as you huff under your breath about how you’re going to kick her ass and continue stomping down the street.

You make it about halfway before Bucky picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, sprinting the next block back, hardly out of breath. You go limp, knowing you’ve lost this one but also happy you don’t have to drag him the rest of the way.

He gets you up to your shared room and sets you gently down, “so you like my new tight shirts, huh,” he says, smirking as he backs you up against the wall. “You’ll have to be sure to thank whoever got them for me, I still can’t find my old ones, and these just happened to be in the closet,” he explains, eyes dark as his hands skim under your shirt.

You are about to tell him the whole story but he places a finger over your lips, leaning in close and saying, “it’s ok, y/n, I know it was you, I figured it out pretty quickly and I think it’s really cute that you went to such lengths to see me in a tight tee shirt. If I had known it turned you on so much, I would have made the change when we talked about it.”

You still haven’t admitted to any of it, instead pushing your hips into his and moaning at the feel of his hard cock against your core. “Not talking I see, well, maybe I can fix that and make you scream instead,” he murmurs before dipping his head down to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth, wasting no time and fisting your hands into his shirt, pulling at it so he takes it off, “fuck, y/n, I love you like this, I’m never wearing those big shirts again,” he teases, pulling the tee shirt off and tossing it to the floor.

You lick your lips at the sight of him, running your hands down his chest to the zipper on his jeans, “get these off and make me scream, Buck, I need you,” you plead, as you slowly run your hand over the hardness in his pants.

He brings his lips to your neck, gently nipping and licking all the soft spots and you arch into him, needing more, “please Buck, fuck me hard,” you moan and it’s all he needs to lose control. His mouth leaves your throat and he takes your shirt off in a flash, kneading your breasts through the thin lace fabric of your bra. He pulls the cups down and runs his tongue over your nipple, biting down just enough to have you cry out in pleasure.

Your leggings are next and he is on his knees, large fingers hooked into the elastic of your panties, staring up at you with lust blown eyes as he drags them down your legs, “need to taste you first baby,” he says before placing a delicate kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You instinctively throw one leg over his shoulder and grab his hair, guiding his mouth to where you want him. The first swipe of his tongue has you reeling, pushing your hips into his face and bringing him impossibly close. He flicks his tongue over your clit, and you know you’re close, the build up from the day too much to hold back.

Just as you’re about to cum he pulls away and trails kisses up your torso, sucking on your breasts once more before bringing his mouth to yours so you can taste yourself. He grabs your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist, your wetness coating his cock as he moves it along your folds.

You bite his bottom lip and thrust forward, making what you want known and he doesn’t hesitate, sliding into you slowly until he bottoms out. You both stay still for a moment, the stretch of his cock making you sigh in pleasure and you tighten your grip on his shoulders, a silent hint for him to move.

He pulls all the way out before slamming back in, his pace now anything but slow, fucking you so hard the shelves on the wall are shaking. Your head is thrown back and your nails dig into him, his grip on your hips so tight you know there will be bruises to show for it.

“Oh, fuck, Bucky, I’m so close, you feel so good,” you groan out, legs clamped around him as your vision begins to blur. His lips find yours as he brings one hand down to rub your clit and you lose it, screaming out and cumming hard on his cock, the fluttering of your walls milking his own orgasm.

Your head falls to his shoulder as he continues holding you up, still inside you, breaths heavy as you come down from your high. He carefully pulls out and sets you down, bringing his hand to lightly trace your jaw as he says, “damn, baby girl, where did you put my old shirts, I wanna get rid of ‘em, never wearing anything but the tight ones again,” he smirks before giving you a sweet kiss.

@annavega333 @abovethesmokestacks @book-dragon-13 @beckzorz @buckysbrat @cchellacat @chuuulip @collinsstanharbour @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @marvelous-meggi @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nerdypinupcrystal @randomfandompenguin @stuck-y-together @spacemansam @sallycanwait68 @sebastiansloserclub

#bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #beefy bucky x reader #beefy bucky smut #beefy bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #beefy bucky x reader fluff

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kiriluvbot · 4 years ago

Text

lvr boy

todoroki has a rough day, and sero attempts to make him feel better. both boys figure out that distractions aren’t always the answer to emotional distress.

—

han !!: hey shou i saw u leave dinner early are u ok?

shou <3: yeah, just a bit drained. sorry i left without saying anything.

han !!: hun u don’t need to apologize, i jus wanna make sure ur doin ok !!

han !!: is there anything i can do?

shou <3: come over ?

han !!: u bet, On my way!

han !!: ive got an idea to cheer u up bb

and that’s how hanta sero got to be hanging from his tape on the rafters directly outside shouto todoroki’s room, over his balcony.

han !!: i’m outside <3

don’t ask him how the physics works; he doesn’t know either. hanta imagined what it must be like to be the fictional american hero, spiderman, and tried to stick his tape from the most secure place on the roof and dangled downward, getting into position as fast as he could so he’d be ready when shouto peeled open the door leading to his balcony.

except he hadn’t exactly said he would be on the balcony.

and it’s cold outside. hanta shivers as a rush of wind sends him waving like a flag outside shouto’s room. he feels more and more ridiculous the longer he sits—dangles?— here, with all the blood rushing to his head. what's taking shouto so long?

inside, shouto is peering into the hall, looking for a familiar head of dark hair. he’s tired. he needs hanta to be able to properly recharge. he misses hanta. he sort of wants to cry, sort of wants to melt into the floor, sort of wants hanta to sweep him up and make him forget everything else in the world.

he frowns when he finds no one outside his door. “hanta?”

where is he?

shouto glances over his shoulder, at the doors leading to his balcony, at the thick curtains blocking out the moonlight.

surely not...

but it’s hanta, and he had said he’d be outside. hanta comes up with the craziest ideas sometimes. but how could he have gotten out there?

shouto shakes his head once, crosses the room with apprehension. pulling back the curtain, shouto nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of hanta sero outside his door, hanging upside down with a tight grip on his tape, the widest, goofiest smile on his face.

shouto slides open the door, the rush of cool wind sending goosebumps crawling over his skin. even being this close to hanta makes him stand up a little taller, already absorbing energy to start recharging. he’s a magnet. hanta is a ball of pure, unhinged light and love. hanta is a source of comfort, a place to come home to. shouto can’t stop his growing smile as it mirrors hanta’s own.

“there you are,” shouto breathes. that overwhelming weight that just kept building through the day starts to lay off, little by little.

“how’s this for a surprise?” hanta’s waving a bit in the wind. his cheeks, nose, and ears are dusted pink. inky black hair waves with him, curling at the ends. his eyes are dark pools full of stars, full of adoration, full of mischief.

shouto could—should—kiss him.

“i’m always surprised with you, hanta,” shouto says, laughing lightly as he steps out of his room, bare feet on the wood of the balcony. they’re close to eye level, and shouto raises his hands, almost unsure, and presses them to hanta’s grinning cheeks.

“gotta keep my boy on his toes, you know?” hanta tries to lean in the closer shouto gets like a moth to a flame, curious eyes searching shouto’s face for any tells of fatigue, of sickness, of sadness. he only finds sleepy awe. “gotta change things up every now and then.”

the two toned boy plants a ghost of a kiss to hanta’s forehead. it’s not enough. “this must be a spiderman thing,” shouto muses. “i know how much you like that guy.”

“naturally. he’s the coolest,” hanta giggles at that, and shouto’s fractured heart starts to mend. his cracked facade from spending the whole day strung out, anxious for nothing, begins to crumble at his feet. hanta has a knack for pulling shouto completely apart, for piecing him wholly together, for taking the pressure off shouto’s shoulders, even if it’s just for a little while.

“i remember the movie we watched together,” shouto hums, thumbs grazing over hanta’s cheekbones. “there was a scene similar to this, right?”

hanta’s skin burns under his fingers. shouto watches his adam’s apple dip as he swallows. “something like it, yeah.”

shouto meets his eye, recognizes that mischievous look flickering over his features. he chases the light, takes in every single detail of hanta’s face, every detail he has memorized like constellations at this point, every detail he wants to place a kiss to, every detail he never gets tired of.

then, shouto gets on his tippy toes and tilts forward, holding hanta’s face, and kisses his lover boy, slow and sweet. it’s strange kissing someone upside down, but hanta kisses him back like he’s been anxiously waiting for it to come, like he’ll never get enough.

it’s not enough.

when shouto pulls back, hanta is smiling again, dizzy and red faced. in a single, fluid movement, hanta flips and releases the hold on his tape. he lands, steady on his feet in front of shouto, wind blown hair framing his face like a priceless painting. his grin, his pure, radiating joy and goodness outshines the moon, as if the sun instead resides inside his chest.

he’s too good for me.

hanta’s eyes widen as shouto takes his reddening hands and kisses those, too. kisses his palms. his knuckles. shouto has always loved hanta’s hands; clever and sneaky hands, sure and gentle hands.

he knows the patterns of hanta’s hands like the back of his own, knows the life lines, the callouses, the old scar between his middle and pointer finger knuckles. he knows the pattern of all his moles and freckles and the way they creep up his arms, up his neck, down his chest like a fairy danced to their favorite song over his skin.

after a sharp intake of breath, hanta asks, “are you alright, shou?”

not really. i’m asking for a distraction. do you think a distraction will make it all go away? all this pressure on my chest?

the sincerity of his voice causes shouto to stop in his tracks.

i didn't sleep well at all. i had a nightmare about failing the hero course. i was late to class.

he looks up, blue and gray falling on gravitational black.

i got a 60 on our history test today and i locked myself in the bathroom for three minutes trying to remind myself it’s just one single test.

hanta’s smile is dipping.

bakugo was yelling more than usual. aizawa and iida both told me i was off my game. i spilled my drink in my lap at lunch.

he grips shouto’s fingers and pulls him closer. always closer.

i had to cancel my plans with my mom this friday to retake the test i bombed. i cried after we got off the phone.

shouto has to tilt his head up. hanta sure has gotten tall.

he feels childish trying to explain why literally nothing had gone his way today, why every small thing made him want to curl up and cry for hours. “just—today was a bit overwhelming. everything going wrong and getting too loud, you know? but i’m feeling better.”

now that you’re here.

when hanta leans into his space again, shouto unconsciously warms up the air around them.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

my coffee spilled over the edge of the cup this morning and hurt my fingers and i had to sit on the floor for six and a half minutes trying to suck the tears back into my eyes.

“not really,” shouto answers. it’s not a lie.

“you’re sure?”

his breath is warm on shouto’s face, eyes wide and sincere.

“i’m sure.”

if we talk about it i’m almost certain i’ll cry again.

hanta seems to buy it. his lip ticks upward just a notch. that curiosity turns sly as he releases shouto from his hold, as his hands dance up and over the shorter boy’s shoulders, over his shoulder blades, down his spine.

“totally sure?”

the space between is no space and too much all at once. it’s not enough.

“absolutely sure.” just kiss me already, you maniac.

finally, finally, hanta’s lips find his own, right side up and certain. stars explode in shouto’s chest, behind his eyes. supernova as his fingers dip into hanta’s hair, as he melts under the attention and contact, on his tippy toes.

all too soon, hanta pulls back, humming all the while. shouto nearly pouts at the loss until hanta dips down, those searching hands taking shouto’s thighs.

oh.

the smaller boy squeaks, though he’ll always deny it later, as hanta picks him up and wraps shouto’s legs around his waist.

oh.

he’s… carrying him.

this is new.

“we’re goin’ inside,” is the only explanation hanta offers. his head whips back up in a flurry of glittering hair and a puckish grin. always glittering. always grinning.

shouto holds on tightly, arms around around hanta’s shoulders. he keeps his mouth shut for fear of saying something completely stupid. hanta is talking, though shouto’s been too focused on the muscles of his back beneath his hands to really know what he said. his chin presses into shouto’s collar. shouto wishes it were his lips instead. god.

still holding on to shouto, with those goddamn hands on shouto’s thighs—i’m gonna die—hanta shuts the door and closes the curtain like he’s seen shouto do a thousand times during his nightly shut in routine. shouto considers asking to be let down but—but his hands on his thighs—i’m gonna die, i’m gonna die, this is where it ends—

hanta’s shampoo smells like grapefruit. his hair brushes shouto’s cheek. he wants to bury his face in it, wants to move it to the side and explore every freckle dusting his smooth skin, wants to kiss every single place he can reach—good god, he’s gonna die.

then, incredibly, horribly, boldly, hanta sits at the edge of shouto’s bed. he readjusts so shouto is sitting properly in his lap, legs still wrapped around his waist. those goddamn hands slide down the sides of shouto’s thighs, over the fabric of his pajama shorts, just barely grazing exposed skin, like hanta knows. shouto lifts his head from the crook in hanta’s neck to finally get a good look at him in this soft lighting.

hanta’s cheeks are still painted pink.

there’s so much contact. broad shoulders beneath his hands. solid chest if he drags his hands down. narrow waist if he goes even further, strong abs from swinging through the air and keeping his balance. his hands on shouto’s thighs.

any and all rational thoughts shouto may have had exit stage right.

“this okay?” he asks.

shouto responds with a single nod of his head. he’s distracted, alright.

that’s a good enough answer for hanta. the raven haired boy pressed forward once again, closing the gap, aiming for shouto’s lips but landing right next to them. shouto can feel his smile against his skin. his chest is tight, his fingers subconsciously twisting the ends of hanta’s wavy hair.

everything slows down.

“there’s a dimple here when you smile, you know?” hanta murmurs, a cold pointer finger tapping the spot just to the left of his mouth. he kisses that spot. it’s horribly and surprisingly tender, plucking shouto’s weakened heart strings. “have i ever told you how much i love that dimple?”

“i don’t think so.” his head tilts back.

his lips dip beneath shouto’s jaw. “what about this? surely i’ve told you how much i love this.” his kiss is warm, his laughter tickling as he says, “the freckles here look like the little dipper.”

shouto’s eyes flutter closed as lips press under his ear.

“the little dipper, hm?”

hanta hums and shouto can feel it vibrate through his chest. he pulls back a bit, brings shouto’s scarred hero-in-training hands up to his lips and kisses all ten fingers, all ten knuckles, slowly, making sure not to skip a single one.

“and your hands,” hanta murmurs, thumb rubbing circles on the soft part of shouto’s palm. “i love how capable and powerful they are, how you can create and destroy, how you still choose to be gentle.” a kiss touches down on his right palm, a strike through his heart. the sweetness makes shouto’s teeth ache.

there’s a smirk in his voice when hanta speaks again. “and these,” he says, breath startling warm and close to shouto’s collarbones, peeking out of his t-shirt. fingers dip into the fabric, pulling down just a bit. shouto sucks in a breath as lips land true on the bone. “always wanted to kiss you here, you know?”

what took you so long to do it?!

the part of shouto’s brain that was working to create coherent thoughts is in system shut down mode. he basks under the attention, under the light, under the worship of hanta sero, of his boyfriend, of his best friend. he basks and he melts, completely unsure of how to take it, how to accept it.

“and this—“ there’s a small birthmark at the very base of shouto’s neck hanta has wanted to kiss since they were first years. so he does. “love this here.”

every single bit of you, shouto todoroki.

there’s a pause that makes shouto open his eyes and search for hanta.

the taller boy could carry on all night, reaching out for every small inch of shouto todoroki that he’s in love with and explaining exactly why he loves each minuscule detail of it, but he pauses.

shouto’s brows dip, hesitant.

hanta came here to make sure he was okay.

he holds the gaze of the boy in his lap, of the boy he’s loved since he was fifteen, of the boy he’ll love until he passes on from this world to the next. there’s a blurry daze in his blue and gray eyes, but an ever deeper exhaustion pulls at all his edges. hanta can sweep shouto off his feet left and right, tell him all these lovely things and kiss him until he can’t see straight, but those things are merely temporary distractions.

i’m alright, i promise.

he tilts his head, and his smile is almost sad.

you’re not alright, i saw it in the way you tapped your foot in class, the way you pressed your icy fingers into your forehead, the way you avoided your table at lunch. i saw it in the way you were completely silent during practice, the way you wouldn’t engage in banter with bakugo, the way you couldn’t seem to sit still at dinner. i saw it in the way you left early, in the hectic, cracked state you were in when i got here, when you opened the door.

“hanta?” his voice cracks. shouto thinks, i don't deserve this affection. this appreciation. not from someone as good as you. you deserve—someone who isn’t ready to sob when you tell him you love something about him. hanta—

hanta presses his hand flat against shouto’s chest—no, his heart. he sees the way shouto chews on the inside of his cheek, the way his multicolored lashes flutter.

“i love you here, shouto,” hanta says. “when everything is too much and too loud. when you feel like nothing is going your way, when a split coffee cup feels like the end of the world.”

shouto’s lip purses, blinking furiously. his hands twist into the front of hanta’s shirt as the smaller boy falls forward, collapsing onto hanta’s shoulder with little grace.

“‘m sorry,” is the only thing shouto can muster.

hanta wraps an arm around him, pulls him as close as they can get. his lips press to shouto’s temple, to the stray strands of ruby locks there. “you don’t need to apologize, shou.” his shirt collar is wet. “sometimes… sometimes you just need to talk, you know? you need to let it out instead of leaving it unchecked.”

shouto’s heart pounds against hanta’s chest.

“you asked for a distraction. i should be saying sorry for getting all sappy,” hanta kisses his temple again, feels shouto’s shoulders begin to shake.

shouto laughs at that, small and weak and breathless. i needed to hear it. more than i thought i did. more than you know.

in truth, today isn’t the only awful day the two toned boy has had recently. it’s been every single day, one after the other, but he refused to acknowledge how tired and just plain sad he felt. he thought that if he pulled hanta into his bedroom and closed his eyes, it would go away with time.

and then the coffee burnt his fingers this morning.

that was the final shove. the final push to send shouto hurtling over the edge, stressed and strung out and overwhelmed. he just needs a break. a healthy, peaceful break that doesn’t involve reaching too far or doing something he might regret. he needs to plug in and recharge, to lay it all out on the table and sort through his troubles, to piece himself back together and get back to normal.

hanta hugs him tighter.

and now his resolve and control is cracking and spilling out, through his veins and his bones, through his heart and his eyes. he holds onto hanta like his life depends on it, letting it all out, finally giving in, finally letting go. distraction wasn’t the answer; he could only forget for so long, as more things piled on until it crushed him.

sometimes the world is too much, too loud.

shouto cries into hanta’s shoulder until there's nothing left. until he feels at peace. until he falls asleep in hanta’s arms.

he dreams of hanta with cherry blossoms in his hair, that same glittering grin on his face.

—

*drops this and runs a thousand miles in the other direction”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29825064

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equiuszahhak · 3 years ago

Text

Loom —

Loom.. see marvus at tree. They are there, clearly disheveled, having BEEN looking since he's gone missing.

Marvus — @pipewizzzzerddd

Marvus, who was in fact waiting at the other tree, eventually figures out where Loom is and climbs his way up from the garden to fetch. Big clown. Pretty clown. Ominously placid clown with his nose in his phone as he wordlessly offers Loom an arm to hold onto.

Loom —

Equally wordless, exhausted and a little stinky, takes his arm.

Marvus —

Marvus leads him back down to the garden to the Wytch Elm, and the fairy-meadow around it. He also, uh ... steps into the hollow? It's a pretty big tree, with a hole in-front that opens into nothingness below. Marvus clambers into what might very well be a bottomless pit with zero hesitation and just vanishes.

Loom —

Honestly, loom is just so over everything. Wings splayed, they follow.

Another time, they will allow it to sink in how pretty and mysterious it all is.

Marvus —

They might not necessarily be invited back, but they can commit it to memory.

A sudden sense of vertigo on all sides, the pull of gravity, Marvus in freefall beside them with his cane propped on his shoulder, unperturbed by their Plummeting.

Suddenly they're both standing on soft loamy earth, a musky breeze coming off the nearby swamp, a smoggy dark-green sky overhead.

"Keep ur head down + ur handz 2 urself. Don't touch nethin."

He starts off down a little wooded path, and beckons for Loom to follow.

Loom —

They nod, and listen. Their fall may have been more of a glide, should physics permit. Loom glances to him, and their eyes follow the scent on their nose, to the direction the wind blows.

Following Marvus, they become a little shorter with each step, as to stay better hidden.

Marvus —

Marvus leads them out of the woods, and into a clearing filled with tents. Large vintage circus tents, carts bursting with popcorn, bubbling vats of something that smells like very cheap soda, all manned by upright mannequins. Some mill about, carrying things, some are clearning ... some are just sort of standing there, limp like a cut puppet.

He weaves between tents until they open into a little shantytown made of circus-wagons, and up to the largest one. With a tap of his cane, and a little burst of runes across the doorframe, it swings open.

"Find sumplace 2 sit down. But also don't touch nethin. Ur butt can touch the chair but don't touch nethin else."

Loom —

They look to him, shifty eyed. Rung with dark blue, from lack of sleep and all the crying. To far to argue now.

"Seems dead here." Said under breath, and they sit. Looking around, the entire place seems fake. That, or just as tired. Like souls who'd eaten the faes food.

Tavros, how he loves the fairies. But he has to come home.

He has to.

Marvus —

"Motherfxcker we're all dead AF here, sh."

It's harder to percieve the parts of it that are alive, but dead is accurate. Marvus HIMSELF is, technically, dead. The cart is a mishmash of papers and knocked-over perfume and dirty dishes. He pushes through some of the velvety chairs to snatch up a Large Orb from his desk; crystalline and foggy, swirling with multicolored smoke the moment he picks it up, shaking it with a croon so the swirling smoke can fill it evenly.

Marvus's trailer is kind of a dump, but it's a comfortable dump. Stained glass windows. Green fire crackling merrily in the little pipe-stove in the corner. The whole place smells a little of Tavros, faintly.

The Faerie That Knows Where He Is lifts his gazing-ball, and leans on the desk.

"gimme ur word ur not goin' 2 follow him."

Loom —

Anything. They can lie, sure. They can fly off, and scruff him by the bulging muscle of his neck and bring him home. But that is obviously not the place he wants to be right now -

Looms arms have been crossed, and cross tighter. They clutch tight to their arms, bruised and white knuckled.

"I'm not going to abandon him, either." They whisper, leg jostling from side to side, nervous energy and fear, paranoia, another dead moirail, friend, lover, etc etc.

"Just. Show me. I just need to see him." Hand at the side of their face, elbow rested on the other arm, tears welling as lips purse. They have not, and do not make eye contact.

Marvus —

Marvus watches Loom, and something in his face twists a little. Something like pity, gone a moment later as he shrugs.

"Ur gonna have 2 learn 2 trust him eventually homie."

He exhales, slow, and lifts the orb. It teeters light-as-a-feather on his clawed fingertips, and his lashes flutter as he lolls his head to the side, watching the smoke swirl. Magyckz™️ fill the air like a sigh, a buzzing against the back of the neck as he wrings Vision from Void.

Whatever the hell kinda incantation just came out of his mouth, it was incomprehensible.

It's much too fuzzy to tell what's going on, but for a split second--before Tavros's glamours can obscure it again--a gap in the smoke reveals @Tavros

(Unfortunately, it is almost impossible to discern a location.)

Tavros is peacefully asleep, well-protected as a massive catlike beast grooms the top of his head with an equally massive rasped tongue. A few babies--manticore cubs, presumably--bumble around him, either dozing in Tav's arms or gnawing on his shoelaces.

Tavros —

A sleepy cozy Tavros, nestled into the motherbeast's fur. He feels Safe, and the glamours hiding him are a little weaker than before. He's just blurry, hard to focus in on

Loom —

"Trust isn't the issue."

As tense as they had been, Loom's leg slows to metronome. Slow, but there. The smoke wreathes everything, and they feel the surrounding void.

Through it, they feel a sense of Tavros. This... This helps.

Mouth covered, they finally let it out.

Okay, that's a lie! Tears steam but they're quick to wipe them away, heat blue in their face. A deep, Shakey breath, and composure is back. Volte-face.

They just nod. Stand. "Thank you."

Marvus —

Marvus will take their word for it--Tavros is a big boy who has taken care of himself ... althoug Marvus may or may not have saved his life twice, yesterday. Who's counting? Marvus is gonna set anyone who counts on fire. (Magefire, of course.)

Finding Tavros is still out of the question at the moment, so they're gonna have to trust that he's Staying Safe--and that Marvus is keeping him safe, too. The crystal goes dark, and Marvus tosses it back onto the desk-chair with a pffthunk.

Marvus pulls a line of colorful scarves from the lapel of his jacket, and offers the end to Loom to blow their nose and wipe their eyes.

Loom —

They look, and...

Their expression softens.

Angry. They're angry, but relieved. It isn't fair. "It's funny. You get him to yourself again, after all." A weak laugh, as they accept the scarf.

Dab, dab, slow. A little void magic, and the snotty mess is clean when they hand it back to Marvus.

"I'll see myself out."

Marvus —

"idk, i think da manticore has a monopoly rn," He wrinkles his nose, snapping his fingers. The scarves withdraw into his coat with a thwik!

"u want me 2 walk u baque 2 da tree?"

Loom —

That's a neat trick.

Loom solomnly shakes their head, dissolving into their own void. They can get home that way. And-- have a way back.

Marvus —

Marvus blinks, alone in his trailer once more, and snorts.

"damn yall pessimistic af."

He settles back into his velvet chair, plucking a long black feather from his desk-drawer, and brushes his lips against it.

Off in slumberland somewhere in the bogs of Lopside, Tavros recieves a Liddle Kiss.

#fly pupa #marvus #action post

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bl597 · 4 years ago

Note

🍒- heyy:) i’m a gryffindor(she/her), i’m bi, i really like reading, playing guitar, hanging out with my friends, watching movies/tv shows... i consider myself a very creative person and very energetic(?), i’m always up to do something and i love exploring new things and going on adventures! thank u!! and congrats on ur 300 followers i’m so happy for youuu

hey sweetheart, hope you enjoy it!! thank you so much, your support means a lot to me🥺💖

warnings: none, just fluff?? this one is kinda big oopsie, this isn't reviewed bc im lazy, english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

my masterlist ♡ join my sleepover!

I ship you with... Harry Potter!

you and Harry have quite a taste for getting in trouble

not really getting in trouble, just going on adventures and ending up getting in trouble

its as if you two had a magnetic for trouble inside of you

and that was how you actually met

you grew up hearing about the boy who lived

and how he defeated you-know-who when he was just a one year old baby

and how he brought peace and safety to the wizard world

it was impossible not to know who Harry Potter was

in your first year, the only thing you could hear about on the train were rumors that Harry was entering Hogwarts this year

and everyone was like mERLIN'S BEARD!!! ITS HARRY POTTER!!

and a lot of people were not so discretely pointing at the dark haired boy

or better, at his scar

the oh so famous scar

and you could cleary see how uncomfortable he was with all the sudden attention he was getting

so you decided to let him breath instead of observe his every more just like almost everyone was doing

anyways

you got sorted into Gryffindor!!

and you were so happy bc almost your whole family was from that house

and it was just so exciting!!!

Harry was a Gryffindor too and although you were housemates, you didn't really talk to each other

though you always knew what happened to him bc the news at Hogwarts spread faster than anything

ok so you officially met each other in potions detention:D

you didn't really do anything but Snape just doesn't like Gryffindors

or kids

or people in general

so you had to go to the dungeons after dinner

and when you entered the classroom, you actually thought you were in a regular class bc there were a lot of students?????

you recognized some familiar faces like Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, the Weasley Twins, Lee Jordan and Harry Potter and two Ravenclaw girls

you suppressed a laugh when you walked past Snape and saw his expression

and then you sat down on the only available place: right by Harry's side

you two made some small talks every now and then and quietly laughed at Snape

and after that night you two became friends :D

the next morning when you were having breakfast at the Great Hall

Harry shyly approached you and you two started talking

qne then he introduced you to his best friends: Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger

you befriended them too yay

okay

so you and Harry always hang out together sometimes

and after a year or two of you two just spending time together

Harry started realising that his feelings for you weren't platonic anymore, he saw you as 'something else'

and he got really awkward (yeah, more than he already is)

and you immediately noticed it bc like???? the boy could barely stay in the same room as you without looking like a tomato and saying the most random things ever???

and you tried to convince yourself it was just something random like puberty idk

because you may or may not had feelings for the awkward boy too

but you didn't want to think about it because you didn't want to feed your hopes bc c'mon

it's Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the youngest seeker of the century

why would he want someone like you?

bc you're amazing and you're the sweetest and a fantastic person who deserves all the love in the world pls don't doubt yourself

and Ron and Mione were so done with you and Harry being so oblivious

so they set up a plan to get you two to confess to each other

it worked and you're now dating :D

Harry always supports you, no matter what

but he wouldn't want you to get involved in the adventures he gets himself into bc they're too dangerous and he would never want you to get hurt especially bc of him :(

he loves it when you read to him while you cuddle in the common room (hes the small spoon and thats it thats a canon)

he also adores to watch you play guitar because omg you're amazing

he always listens to whatever you're talkinf about with a silly smile on his face

because you talk about it with such admiration and with such a beautiful, wide smile that it makes his heart beat like crazy

he's very shy and whenever you held his hand or kissed his cheeks/lips he would be like ohmygODSJDBDOSJDJSKSHDKDLSJDKD inside

which is adorable :((

this little bean is head over heels for you

you two always go on adventures together

and sometimes walk around the castle at night just to have some fun

Filch once almost caught you two lol

and you are the cutest couple in Hogwarts

ugh Harry is so sweet

this got enormous????? sorry kzkdjdkdk

I ship you with... James Potter!

you and James boy are the Hogwarts' troublemaker couple™

and everyone knows you two

because you and the boys are always pulling pranks and getting detention

Filch hates you lol

ok so you two actually went on your first because of a sily bet you made to see who pulled the best prank:

if you won, he would do all your homework for a few weeks

and if he won, you'd go on a date with him

guess who won :D

you accepted it as a joke

not really expecting it to turn into something else

but turns out you had a great time together!!

it was a Hogsmead trip so you went to almost every shop there

and he bought you a lot of candies despite you telling him he didn't need to

anyways

after that date, you both agreed on going out together more times

just to see what could happen

and it went perfectly fine

so you started dating :D

you are the cheesiest couple Hogwarts has ever seen

he loves pda

he's always holding your hand, hugging you or kissing you

no matter where you are

James is a very sweet and caring boyfriend

and he always supports you and your decisions

and he would never

i said never

pressure you to do something you don't want to or that you're uncomfortable with

he's a gentleman and wants you to be comfortable around him

you and the boys always hang out together bc you are besties™

you and James use his invisibility cloak to sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night

or to go to the Astronomy Tower for a midnight date

you're always cheering for him during quiddich games

and you proudly scream at everyone around you that that boy with messy dark hair amd wearing glasses flying right up there was you boyfriend

because you're so proud of him:(

he loves it when you read to him

because your voice is so angelic and every word that leaves your mouth is like a song to him

he loves it when you play guitar because you're so talented and he thinks you're so perfect

and he's so in love with you

he'd do anything to make sure you're happy and alright

and he always makes sure that you're getting the right amount of food and sleep that you need

he always tells you jokes because you laugh so hard at them

and your laugh is the most beautiful and precious thing he's ever witnessed

James would do anything for you

i'm not even joking

the little shit would throw himself from the Astronomy tower if you ever asked him to

he gladly never did it because you're not crazy to tell the kid to literally kill himself right plis dont do it

anywAys

James Potter is the best boyfriend someone could ask for

change my mind about it💅

i think I'll stop here

it got way much shorter than Harry's bc i got a little too excited while writing it but yeah whatever jsjskdjdkd

#harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #hp imagine #hp x reader #hp x you #marauders era x reader #hp headcanon #hp preference #daniel radcliffe #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter headcanon #marauders headcanon #young!james potter #bia's sleepover

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years ago

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the band with no name {Douglas Booth} 2

A/N: 1654 words. A bit shorter, but we’re getting into things now. idk how i feel about it, please give me feedback.

[PART 1]

Flop of The Month, your band, has an instagram account with exactly two posts on it, and Douglas feels like both and idiot, and a creepy stalker, for the amount of time he spends flicking through the two photos without actually liking them, for fear of you realising who he was.

Colson, however, seemed to have no such reservations.

“Look, I’m on their story,” Colson’s grinning from ear to ear as the cast and crew break for lunch the Monday after they’d seen your band play, showing Douglas his phone, and your band’s instagram story. It showed their notifications, highlighting how Colson had liked both photos and followed them, and had the caption ‘how’d the rap devil find us?’ and ‘not complaining tho’.

“Bloody hell,” is all Douglas can bring himself to say, wearing a half-smile as they made their way to the costume department to get changed before lunch. It had been a low effort day, just jeans and t-shirts, but it was always safer to not eat in costume. Hair and makeup could stay and be touched up however.

Your band’s page had begun the day with 217 followers, and ended it with over a thousand. There wasn’t a link to your personal page, and so all he can do is scroll through your Facebook while waiting for Colson to be ready to go.

Y/N: weird question Y/N: also, hi Y/N: but yeh, weird question Y/N: was your friend last night mgk?

Douglas takes a moment to compose his thoughts before typing out his response.

Douglas: hi back Douglas: and yes.

There’s a few minutes of silence, and Douglas can feel his scalp itching beneath his wig, just a little, but he tries to ignore it.

Y/N: cool. Y/N: well it was nice meeting you guys!! Y/N: looking forward to seeing if ur band is real btw Douglas: probably wont be for a while Y/N: im happy to wait Y/N: if u want me there that is Douglas: if we ever actually play a gig, you’ll be the first to know

You send a blushing smiling emoji back, and Douglas finds himself strangely pleased.

“Is that her?” Colson asks, eyes shining as he pulled on his leather jacket; with his wig and makeup, he still absolutely looked the part. Douglas quickly slipped his phone in his pocket, knowing that a faint blush dusted his cheeks despite his best efforts. As he waffled his way through an affirmation, Colson’s smile just grew wider.

“I still don’t understand why you were being so vague; she probably would have jumped you there and then if she knew you were part of the Motley Crue movie, man.”

“Yeah,” Douglas said, his discomfort mounting at the insinuation, “that’s the problem, dude; first of all, I don’t know if she like the band themselves, or just the music, and if she does like the band,” he paused, shrugging a little, quietly embarrassed, “what if she likes them better than me?”

“They’re all married,” Colson says, like it immediately solves everything.

“Man, you know that’s not the issue,” Douglas sighed, but it’s clear he wasn’t done, and Colson just waited, eyebrows raised, “you know, girls who are like... like... how did you say it the other week? When that girl from Instagram was in your DMs every other minute?”

“Clout chasing,” Colson nodded sagely, suddenly understanding all too clearly his co-star’s apparent fears, “well she doesn’t know who you are yet.”

“Exactly,” Douglas exclaimed, glad the craft services tent was finally in view, feeling himself grow hungrier by the moment, “and I think I wanna keep it that way, just for now.”

“Better pray she doesn’t watch Jupiter Ascending,” Colson snorts, just as Douglas punches him in the arm.

The next day, he messages you first, sends a photo of himself and the rest of the band out of costume, but holding their instruments, all wearing heels to help make it easier to wear them around set.

Douglas: the band says hi Y/N: shit, you guys have instruments and everything Y/N: getting less sketchy by the minute

You follow it up with a winking emoji, and a photo of yourself, out in the sunshine, dressed impeccably, makeup dark and sharp, holding a stack of posters beside your head, advertising your band’s next gig; this Saturday.

Douglas: are you inviting me? Y/N: only if you’re saying yes

Your confident coyness amuses him, despite the way the shoes are pinching his toes, and he tells you he’ll be there.

The next day, you send a link to a band name generator, but more interestingly, you send it right around the time he’s getting his makeup done, early in the morning.

Douglas: early start? Y/N: my shop won’t open itself Douglas: your shop? Y/N: mini mall tattoo parlor hahaha

“She owns a tattoo parlor?” Daniel asks, reading over Douglas’s shoulder between takes, “you’d better make your move or Colson’s gonna go for her.”

“Go for who?” Colson himself calls across set where his makeup’s being touched up.

“You weren’t meant to hear that!” Daniel shouts back, though he’s grinning, and adds, “Y/N. She owns a tattoo parlor.”

“Really, shit man, Doug she’s cool as hell,” Colson muses, before snorting, addressing Daniel, “gimme some credit, I’m letting the man shoot his shot; he’s my bro, not my competition.”

“Thanks man,” with the slightest smile, Douglas puts his phone away as the scene is reset around them, and Colson joins him in the middle of the living room set.

“I expect free tattoos, however,” he says with a faux seriousness, “because if you like her, like really like her, I’m gonna wingman the shit out of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely, man,” he claps Douglas on the shoulder with a surprisingly sincere expression.

It’s Colson who suggests, the following day, sending a video of Douglas playing the bass, asking if you had any pointers. They’re at band rehearsals again, blasting through their repertoire, when they get to Take Me To The Top, and as the song dies down, Colson makes the suggestion.

“Why are you filming it?” Iwan asks, and Colson’s smile is all teeth where he’s holding Douglas’s phone, answering before Douglas has the opportunity.

“Tryna help impress that punk chick from the band last weekend.”

“You’re actually talking to her?” Iwan asks with a bright, almost incredulous smile, “after everything that happened? She must really like you.” He muses, and Douglas feels his soul leaving this mortal plane.

“Smart move; asking for advice from her, lets her know you think she’s talented, and, well, you know,” Daniel shrugs, wiggling his fingers with a casual air. Douglas frowns, but Colson’s nodding.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” he agrees, and finally Douglas clues in. Dexterous fingers.

“Don’t be gross, guys,” he sighs, already regretting letting Colson help at all, “just take the damn video.”

It only takes thirty seconds for you to respond in All Caps.

Y/N: ARE YOU IN A MOTLEY CRUE COVER BAND

“I’m fucked,” Douglas mutters under his breath, staring wide-eyed at the message.

Y/N: you play so well dude just relax your stance and shoulders Y/N: fkn love take me to the top Y/N: seriously a motley cover band??? Y/N: you just instantly got 100x cooler

“Okay, maybe I’m not fucked,” he concedes after a moment, quietly breathing a sigh of relief.

Y/N: now i have to see u guys play!! Y/N: if that’s alright of course

“Nah, you’re definitely a little bit fucked,” Daniel offers over his shoulder, and Douglas pushes his face away.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Douglas grumbles, and Daniel shrugs bemusedly.

“At least she thinks you play well,” but Douglas isn’t listening to him, he’s frantically tapping away on his phones, scowling, “what ‘re you doing?”

“Trying to come up with a name for our band -”

“Our fake band?” Iwan asks, arms crossed over his chest wearing an amused little smile, “do we have to play along with this too?”

“Not if you don’t want, just don’t... don’t tell her it’s fake is all.” Douglas offers, and the rest of the band nods.

“So how long are you going to play along with this bit?” Daniel ask, and Douglas heaves a sigh.

“Not sure; until I can trust that she’s not just in it to meet the actual band -”

“Which she doesn’t know you know,” Iwan interjected again, and Douglas nodded a little. After a beat, the rest of the band looked to each other, and seemed to share some sort of silent communication, before turning back to him.

“Okay,” Colson agrees easily, “if you’re serious about this chick you’ve known for five days,” he emphasizes, though Douglas doesn’t seem phased, “if we ever run into her, we’ll pretend we’re in a Motley Crue cover band.” He agrees, while Iwan and Daniel silently agree, though they look rather amused at the whole situation.

“There’s just something about her,” Douglas muses quietly.

“It’s the fact that she’s the coolest chick you’ve ever met,” Colson tells him with far too much authority, “and your little posh, school-boy brain wants to try something new.”

“Hey -” Douglas scoffed, though he was quickly talked over.

“She looks like she’d punch me in the face but I’d be okay with it,” Iwan adds, which, strangely enough, the rest of them agree to with various mischievous smiles. Douglas doesn’t exactly deny that he feels the same way.

“What’s our band name gonna be?” Daniel asks finally.

“The Fourskins,” Colson answers back immediately, grinning wide and proud of himself.

“Absolutely no-”

“That’s kind of genius,” Daniel snorts over Douglas’ protest, and so, on a three-to-one vote, their fake Motley Crue cover band is named The Fourskins, and Douglas kind of thinks he’d rather come clean there and then to you, rather than suffer through ever typing or saying that name to you. But he doesn’t.

He really hopes you’re worth it.

#Douglas Booth #douglas booth x reader #douglas booth imagine #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly #daniel webber #iwan rheon #The Dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the dirt imagine #the angry lizard writes

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ghostlypawn · 4 years ago

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okay im gonna type up my hadestown costume ideas bc why the heck not hope u enjoy x feel free to share yours/add on if you want.

note: in my production orpheus is female for Reasons (also hades could also be a girl i dont think it rly matter for what i suggest)

overall my vibes are more ~fantasy~ but still grounded in reality ??

Hades: honestly the vibes from the bway costume are great love it and the suit. especially the wall tattoo im stealing that. i do however want more red incorporated for like,, colour analysis reasons bc im a whore for colours that have meaning. have some photos for an idea (the last is my fave i think):

also with that i found this walking stick thing that feels quintessential hades so here that too (along with a cape that i think he should wear during his entrance bc parallels later ig?

overall: similar to the bway costume but more fantastical in a vampirey way?

Persephone: okay for the most part i was just seeing pretty dresses with florals and sticking them in her board. but they all have the same vibe which i still think i would like. also her colour is still green (complimentary colour to red). have some pictures:

and then at some point i got a GREAT idea. but i dont know how to implement it exactly yet. okay so similar to how broadway has a green and then black costume for the different acts; in the first act her skirt is more ballgown-y and poofy which should resemble flower petals in bloom (possibly more structured so its obvious unlike the more flowy dresses i showed although i think the ideas would still be seen with the skirts above) and then in act 2 the dress is much more slim-fitting against her body so it looks like the flower petals have wilted and are clinging to her body?? does that make sense?? i love it anyway.

overall: more fairy-queen whimsical vibes than broadway and a lot more emphasis on floral details.

Orpheus: okay i dont know why but i get major farmery/cottagecore vibes from orpheus like they just wanna vibe to music and forget about the real world?? so naturally i wanted to get those vibes. i wanted it to have similar vibes to bway with the white shirt and suspender type look so heres some pictures i found:

orpheus’ colour is that ochre yellow (similar colour family to persephone -> shared values). i liked the idea of the apron too (same as bway) but yknow,, cuter. i also wanted more details on the shirt so i liked the flowery embroidery details (on both the shirt and shoes) to really tie orpheus to the overworld. i did however want orpheus to have a cape when they go into the underworld bc i feel like thats what all fantasy adventurers do when they ~adventure~. so i was looking at capes until i found one that i think went with what i imagined for the dress.

the first cape is what i originally imagined but thought that it was almost too big and thick for orpheus so then i found the one on the right which i LOVE as its shorter and lighter and goes better with the dress underneath which is similar to the ones i showed at the beginning. (also there could be some analysis between hades and orpheus about how hades’ cloak covers his whole body as if hes hiding himself whilst orpheus’ still makes them look vulnerable especially as they both wear the cloak in the world theyre not familiar with.)

bonus costumes: the guitar!! i found some rly cute guitars which i love the idea of orpheus having a doodled guitar especially with motifs found within the show:

pretty tree/floral/naturey designs !! you get what im putting down.

overall: cottagecore orpheus is what we deserve

Eurydice: okay eurydice was hardest all i knew is that her colour would be a dark purple (complimentary to yellow and similar to red). at first i was think more london eurydice with jeans or overalls because i knew i wanted her in trousers. but i thought this made her look too pedestrian in compared to the others (idk mayb that would work considering theyre gods and shes,, not?) i didnt entirely like it so went to the fantasy drawing board and found these (but pretend theyre shades of purple):

i like that they like theyre made out of materials found on hand and just thrown together for warmth but they also look agile as hell which is good for eurydice imo as i see her as a lil pickpocket just tryna get by. so something similar to this. i think i would keep the act 2 worker outfit pretty much the same, especially if we remove any hints of colours (espc purple) to remove any identity similar to what bway does already.

also bonus accessories:

still boot wearing but more steampunky? possibly still with some natural elements but more about the moon/sun rather than flowers, i cant quite explain but to me they give of different meanings?? idk. also the CUTEST pouch that resembles a flower which would be the only thing resembling a flower. like she would associated orpheus with the flower but she also has this other association between money and a flower so its like theyre her two major conflicts and theyre assoicated with the flower idk man i think u understand what im getting at.

overall: steampunk/fantasy thief vibes

bonus prop for hermes simply because i love it and want you to see it:

flower/leaf umbrellas !! yknow like in way down?? its cute thats all (dont think they close tho but we can work it out its not as if im actually making them.

thank you for reading my accumulated thoughts and feelings if u got to the end i hope you enjoyed/liked my ideas n opened ur brain to endless potentials with this show. once again feel free to tell me anything u liked/would change/a whole new outlook wherever !! its interesting to see people think creatively !! i love it !!

(also as for set i feel like everyone now on my blog knows im an advocate of a great comet-esque interactive set where the set IS hermes bar/speakeasy thing)

#hadestown #mollie makes #mollie makes: theatre #mollie makes: hadestown #(its not rly a make but just pretend)

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noahhernandez · 4 years ago

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2/9/2015 v. 8/11/2020

1:Talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie. My favorite movie is Scream, and it started when I saw the midnight premier of Scream 4 with my dad back when I was in 8th grade, then Scream 1 came on AMC late on night and I just really like it

I still think Scream is one of my favorites, but Halloween has jumped up there just because I am obsessed with all things horror really lol. I started to love Halloween because of the new trilogy.

2:Talk about your first kiss. It’s really not that interesting but really like embarrassing. It was with my first boyfriend and I had just turned 15 and we were at the school just walking around and we went into the band hall and I was like ok im leaving and he was like wait and we kissed and i was like o

the same !

3:Talk about the person you’ve had the most intense romantic feelings for. I never really have had intense feelings for anyone. I d k

One my exes- I mean we were dating for awhile so that’s pretty intense to me.

4:Talk about the thing you regret most so far. I regret… Nothing really I mean, I have done really bad things in my life, but i don’t regret them

I regret failing like 2 semesters of college lmao and almost dropping out. If i didn’t then I would 1- would have been done earlier and 2- would have already completed a year of grad school but IDK also another is wasting lots of money in 2017-2018

5:Talk about the best birthday you’ve had. The best birthday I’ve had was.. Idk This year was was nice I saw Iggy Azalea in concert, then I celebrated my friends’ birthday then mine and it was just everyone got to get together so ya this year my 18th

For my 21st birthday I went to Portland, Oregon and spent the weekend there and it was pretty and my first time there so it was nice despite what I think about PDX now. I don’t even know what I was doing for my 19 and 20th birthday lol.

6:Talk about the worst birthday you’ve had. My 17th birthday because I was stuck 2 hours away from home with a bunch of nerds doing a band competition

That is still probably my worst birthday. I forget to mention that I was gone literally from like 7am to midnight. They werent a bunch of loser nerds, they were my friends, but I still wish I was just at home lol.

7:Talk about your biggest insecurity. I am skinny, but not fit. If I eat anything I get this like stomach and it makes me so sad. and ever since I got a job I work odd hours and I eat a lot of fast food and I’ve gained 10 pounds in 2 years and I guess i’m insecure about my weight

I am still insecure about my weight, and I probably weight like 5 pounds more than I did when I made this post 5 1/2 years ago.

8:Talk about the thing you are most proud of. We have band banquets for band, and I only went my sophomore and junior year, and seniors give out awards to underclassmen that are just jokes really, and both years 4 different seniors gave me an award for being the biggest gossip in the entire band and I was proud of that lol

Well since then I have graduated both high school and college. I am proud that I finished college !! A BS in Psych. Proud of myself that I got promoted (in 2017) at my job; i’m proud of myself that I have my own apartment, and blah blah basically just doing regular adult shit.

9:Talk about little things on your body that you like the most. I like my nose because of how perfectly fixed it is. I also really like my freckles/moles/dark marks idk what they are exactly, but they’re on my face and they look great

I still feel the same way about this, maybe add my eyebrows- they’re not like clean and nice they’re just expression markers on my face that i love.

10:Talk about the biggest fight you’ve ever had. I got into a fight with my old friend Angelica and that was almost 4 months ago and we used to be best friends and now we never talk.

When Janett didn’t talk to me all summer of 2019 because I told our other friend Angel something

11:Talk about the best dream you’ve ever had. I cant remember one 12:Talk about the worst dream you’ve ever had. I can’t remember one

13:Talk about the first time you had sex/how you imagine your first time. The closest thing i’ve had to like sex was being locked in a back of an SUV with a stranger drunk as fuck and naked and its embarrassing

Just awkward and nothing to which I expected.

14:Talk about a vacation. When I was 16, the high school band took a trip to Hawaii, and all my friends were in band so it was great. We did a lot of things, we toured Pearl Harbor and even played a few patriotic songs on the USS Miss. and our hotel was on Wakiki beach. I went snorkeling in some beautiful water and shit and idk just walked all around Hawaii having a great time omg we got on stage at the Hard Rock Cafe and sang with German people i miss it

Hm that was fun. But I.. went to NY with my ex and that was pretty cool because I literally love New York, and I went to NOLA two years ago (today actually) and got miserably drunk so that was fun too

15:Talk about the time you were most content in life. Probably just in the middle of junior year when everything and everyone was going with the flow

I feel like 2016 was a very content year because I remember nothing about it.

16:Talk about the best party you’ve ever been to. Idk which one to talk about the one where I had a lot of fun and risked my life or the one where there was a lot of drama stirred up and drank myself to sadness.

I haven’t really been to a party? I have gone out and had good times. Really anytime my friends and I go out I am having a good time

17:Talk about someone you want to be friends with. I am already friends with people I want to be friends with

18:Talk about something that happened in elementary school. I kissed a boy on the back of the head and i told I just fell onto his head

Let me think of another one. Back in like fourth grade my friend was in a wheel chair and his backpack was falling from the back and I was trying to grab it and i was only 3 feet tall i couldnt see over or wasnt paying attention and i crashed him right into the bookshelves at the library.

19:Talk about something that happened in middle school. A girl was mad at me because idk why lol and she pushed me in the hall way and I fucking flew across that hall on the floor and hit the wall she’s pregnant now

When I was in 5th grade (which is considered middle school in my district) I was standing on the play ground and someone threw a stick at my head and it knocked me the fuck out and I was bleeding from my temple.

20:Talk about something that happened in high school. In Jr. Year I was pulling into the parking lot but I was texting and I accidentally put half my car on grass area near the side walk luckily it was 7am and only one person saw me do it lol

One summer going into our senior year we had a party at Michelle’s house. First of all we were very drunk and Coby’s parents were like we are coming over and we cleaned TF UP so fast and sat on the couch and turned on I Know What You Did Last Summer and his parents were like interesting and and left and then we continued to drink anyways- we started playing truth or dare and my friend Angelica was like I dare u to kiss Anthony (someone I had liked prior) and he wouldnt and we started attacking him and calling him homophobic and hitting him with pillows lmao- him and I are still friend-ish

21:Talk about a time you had to turn someone down. I can’t think of something right now.

Literally anyone on grindr.

22:Talk about your worst fear. I’m afraid of having no career and being stuck doing something I hate and living paycheck to paycheck

Yeah, I’m scared of that still but I.. think just like being broke and jobless. RN with the pandemic we aren’t really working and still getting gov’t assistance, so. IDK being a real real adult scares me a lot.

23:Talk about a time someone turned you down. I can’t think of a time :)

One time in like 2016 maybe idk - this dude told me to come over and he lived far like not that far maybe 25 minutes lol far for me anyways I got to his apartment and there was a gate code and i asked him what it was and he didnt answer and it was like 2-3am and nobody was coming in or out and so i was like damn this sucks lmao

24:Talk about something someone told you that meant a lot. Nothing really has meant a lot to me. Everyone tells me the same thing over and over again and its so surface level

I still can’t think of anything but I’m sure the friends I have met since this and my friends Faith, Michelle, Peter, and Alisa have said something supportive that meant a lot to me.

25:Talk about an ex-best friend. Angelica Ramirez. She was my best friend for only 3 years, but together we went through A LOT of shit. We started out senior year just fine, but she lied about a few things and made a lot of us feel like crap in October. I won’t lie, I do miss her. We have too many memories to just forget, too many funny stories and great adventures. She helped me with too much, and sometimes I think about how I cut her out of my life and I mad a bad choice. But only time can heal things and I have moved on and truly found people that won’t make me mad every 30 seconds.

Brianna Pajak, I don’t remember anything about her except she was poor and we stopped being friends because she always wanted to fight and be annoying.

26:Talk about things you do when you’re sick. Lay on bed on my computer and watch TV

I normally just suffer and cry about wishing I was healthy again.

27:Talk about your favorite part of someone else’s body. Their…!!>>>???

I must have nice hands and ur nose must be nice too! so nose and hands. lol

28:Talk about your fetishes. none

yeah I don’t have any lol not that I can think of.

29:Talk about what turns you on. Idk i really like kissing and touching and this is awkward.

30:Talk about what turns you off. bad breath by

that and ugly/rough hands, acne sorry i know it is natural but, shorter than me lol, white people, long hair on guys, and thats about it i think hm i am single yes

31:Talk about what you think death is like. I think its like idk its scary tho

um idk i dont like thinking about death because i literally want to cry when i think about it.

32:Talk about a place you remember from your childhood. I remember being in trees a lot

My step grandma’s a lot because my parents were working and she would watch us. She passed away about a month ago :(

33:Talk about what you do when you are sad. I usually only tell one person and that person is Alisa and I cry sometimes to her and expect her to make things better and she does thank u

I be doing the same thing, I text someone and that person could really be anyone but it happened the other day and I texted Bri and she was very helpful.

34:Talk about the worst physical pain you’ve endured. I have no idea, I’ve never broken pulled strained twisted fractures or anything i have no life

I still haven’t done any of that stuff to my body. I also have burn scars but I did not feel those when it was happening. I would just say i guess my wisdom teeth coming in because I did not get them removed. I have 3 out lol.

35:Talk about things you wish you could stop doing. Pushing potential love interests away

I have had some ‘love interests’ since this post, but it’s been about a year now since and I kind of push away the opportunity of getting close to someone. I also need to stop being a bitch sometimes.

36:Talk about your guilty pleasures. eating

I would say idk eating was a stupid answer.

37:Talk about someone you thought you were in love with. never

I was in love and i didn’t ‘think’ I was in love. I don’t know what you mean by talk about them, they were my partner but we broke up hehe.

38:Talk about songs that remind you of certain people. Fireflies by Owl City reminds me of my 7th grade crush Fancy by Iggy Azalea reminds me of my two friends Michelle and Alisa idk anything else

um Idk. i rly cant think 39:Talk about things you wish you’d known earlier. I wish I would have known that

That it’s okay to tell people you’re struggling lol . That is okay to fail sometimes (school). 40:Talk about the end of something in your life. everything is just about to start

When I ended how to get away with murder I wish I never did I love that show with all my heart.

#personal

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