#this guy has been rotting my brain for the past year

[enchantedwolfoon]

Harpy Bill⚠️🪶

Pretty sure I drew this one in July 2022. This is sorta a follow up on my previous TOH x Bill Cipher post.

[binniesbooks]

heyyy! absolutely loved your 100 followers special fic like it was so insanely good!!!

please can i request a bsf!beomgyu fic where he discovers through porn that women can squirt and during your next hangout he asks you about it and when you tell him you can he gets all excited and asks you to show him. this then ends in him fucking you till you squirt on his dick multiple times. can you make both beomgyu and the reader a switch if you don’t mind and only if you’re comfortable tho :) the beomgyu brain rot is getting to me 😭

• IS IT TRUE?

BG 001 .F23 2024

wc 3.6k

pairings bestfriend!Beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings switch reader x switch Gyu, mutual pining, porn watching, caught self relieving, oral sex (m. receiving), slight flood play, kissing, marking, unprotected sex, pull out method, squirting, mentions of hair pulling and scratching if you squint (+ anything I've missed)

faye's note I tried my best to make a great plot, I really did! I hope it worked. To the anon who requested this one, I'm sorry it took me so long, I was procrastinating, LMAO. SORRY 😭

"Beomgyu-" The nasty moans and lewd sounds coming from the computer were abruptly stopped when Beomgyu slammed his laptop shut. 

"What the fuck were you watching?" Yeonjun's brows creased as he stared at the younger awkwardly sitting on the bed, a pillow on his lap and a blanket covering his lower half.

"W-what?" Beomgyu stammered. 

Yeonjun's grin grew wider as his eyes scanned the room. A laptop that was forced shut, a box of tissues, a sweaty body in this air-conditioned room—what else was a guy to do, if not pleasure himself when alone?

"Damn, it looks like I've caught you at a bad time!" Yeonjun exclaimed, a faint chuckle rumbling within his chest. His teasing voice and giggles made Beomgyu blush.

"Okay, okay, I'll just talk to you later, take care of yourself first," Yeonjun said, throwing a knowing look and a teasing smile.

"H-hyung, hyung wait!" Beomgyu tried to stop Yeonjun, but the door was already shut. Besides, he can't just get up naked, can he?

He throws his head back against the pillow, groaning in embarrassment as he runs his palm against his face, muttering a frustrated "fuck" under his breath.

"So..." you started. "Why are you here again?"

"Can't a friend visit you? God, you're not as welcoming as before," Beomgyu barked, rolling his eyes as he threw the plastic bag full of snacks on the table and plopped down on your couch. And when he removes the hood of his jacket, he reveals the mess that was his hair underneath.

"I mean, you can, yeah. But... Do you know what time it is?" you replied, pulling your jacket against your body.

"3 o'clock," he answered.

"3 o'clock in what?"

"3 o'clock in the morning! But whatever!" he grunts, throwing a temper tantrum on the couch.

"Why are you here then?" you asked, sitting beside him.

"Just wanna see you. It's been a while," he muttered under his breath.

"You know you can't just drop by anytime, right?"

"I know, I know. I've just had trouble sleeping at night these past few days again," he sighed, leaning his head back on the couch.

"Am I your sleeping pill or something?" your brows raised and your voice teasing.

"What if I say that you're my medicine?" Beomgyu looked you straight in the eye. And there you are, embraced by his warm gaze, trapped inside the pretty door to his soul.

You leaned closer to him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, running your fingers through his hair.

"Stay the night—or whatever you call the time now, I hope you have a good rest even if it's just for today." 

Beomgyu has been your friend since you were in your teenage years—typical. He shuts other girls off, as he only gives his attention to you. He doesn't want to be involved in any relationship of sort—that includes you, though. He may be your best friend, your best partner, but neither of you two admitted anything. Just two young hearts showing care and love towards each other. 

Some say you should date each other, which the two of you would only answer with a sheepish smile. Sometimes, he would drop by at your place, hang out with you, and enjoy the rest of his free time. You've been to his place a few times, but you insisted on him going to your place instead, since he's living with his friends. 

Often times, you'll share a kiss or two with him—anything but a kiss on the lips. He loves it when you sit on his lap while he plays at your computer, giving your shoulder a few bites and planting soft kisses. He loves cuddling you to sleep, draping his arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, his warm breath fanning across your nape. 

Beomgyu could walk around your house half naked without you giving a fuck. He does anything as if it were his own home, and you don't mind at all. You're used to it, nothing new. 

Everything about this is pretty normal between the two of you. The kisses, the skinship, the hugs, the cuddles—anything that a 'just friends' friend won't normally do. Well, in your case, it was. 

"Can you come closer? I need to feel your warmth," Beomgyu pleaded, unzipping his jacket.

"Gyu, how much closer do you need me to be? Should I just sew my skin onto yours?" you chuckled as you shifted on the bed, scooting closer to him.

"I missed you. I missed holding you in my arms." he mumbles as he hugs you tight. 

"You're such a baby, Gyu. Do you know that?" you complained, burying your face in his chest, hugging him closer.

A few minutes had passed, yet Beomgyu was still awake. Busying himself with combing his fingers through your hair as he watches you peacefully sleep. 

His fingers traced the outline of your face. "I love you. I hope you know that," he whispered, planting a kiss to the top of your head before he shuts his eyes.

You woke up with heavy limbs draped upon your body. Beomgyu may have mistaken you for a pillow.

"Gyu... Gyu, you're so heavy, move over." Your voice cracked as you gasped for air.

"Gyu, what the hell, scoot over," you grunt again, trying to push him, but his body is far too big for you to push on your own.

"Choi Beomgyu!" You shouted.

Beomgyu squirmed. And instead of getting himself off of you, he pulled you even closer.

"What's your deal?" You frowned, trying to push him away.

Beomgyu grunts as he hides in your neck, rolling over, causing the two of you to crash down onto the floor. 

But instead of getting angry at him, your frown turned into a fit of laughter as you saw him wince and massage the back of his head and his buttocks.

"Did you have a good sleep?" you asked, stirring a cup of coffee.

"Mhm, I did, thank you. I'll get going now, the boys might already be looking for me," Beomgyu said as he pulled you in for a hug.

"You're not gonna eat breakfast here?"

His tall figure towers over you as he pinches your cheeks, "I'll do it next time. Let's have breakfast together next time, okay? Eat the snacks I brought earlier and take care of yourself." You watched him step out, closing the door behind him. 

It hadn't even been a whole 24 hours when he came back to your place.

"I wanna watch a movie; the guys are boring to be with!" he frowns, feigning frustration--- He actually never asked them to do so. Just a reason for him to drop by your place again.

"Bring the ice cream from the freezer, then," you said as you prepared the couch, bringing some soft pillows and a fuzzy blanket. 

You actually have no idea what the movie was all about. You even missed the title because you went to the restroom last minute. The only thing you know is that it's a 18+ rated movie. Well, it's not your first time watching something like this with Beomgyu, you've watched multiple movies that aren't child friendly. 

Plus, the fact that the two of you could even talk about anything sexual as if you're just talking about food and any other light topics makes this normal. Although sexually wise, neither one of you has experience. Considering that you both shut people away as if your world only revolves around each other.

And although this isn't the first time you're watching something like this with Beomgyu, it is the first time you saw him shove a pillow over his lap. It is the first time he's trying his best to avoid any skin contact with you. 

"Is everything okay? You're so distant," you commented, licking a spoonful of ice cream.

"Actually... There's.. there's something I want to ask," he started, turning his body to face you.

"That is?"

"That.. I.. Uhm, I just watched this from... You know..."

"Porn?" you bluntly answered.

"Y-yeah. And uh, is it true?"

"What's true? Geez, say it straight, Gyu," you rolled your eyes as you dug another spoonful of ice cream.

"Let me finish my sentence!" he pouts, making you chuckle. Beomgyu wasn't normally nervous around you, this is the first time.

"Is is true.. that.. girls can.. uhm.. the liquid... Like.." he continued stammering.

You looked at him straight in the eye and said, "That girls squirt?" Beomgyu nodded frantically as he tried to avert his gaze.

"It's more common than you think, Gyu," you answered as you returned your gaze to the movie. However, you're shocked about what's already happening on the TV. It was a fucking sex scene! Obscene sounds are coming from the speakers resonating in your living room. You gulped and shifted nervously.

"S-so you mean, you can do it?" Beomgyu dug his fingers into the pillow, his face painted with embarrassment and anticipation at the same time.

"Well..."

"Can you show it to me?" he said, cutting you off.

"W-what?" You looked at him in surprise. Why would a friend ask something like that?

"I.. I mean. I mean... Like..." he tried finding an appropriate approach.

"Are you initiating something, Choi Beomgyu?" You turned your whole body towards him. He bit his lower lip, his adams apple bobbed up and down as he gulped, swallowing the same embarrassment and sexual frustration.

"If... If you want to... I... I wanna see it.. I wanna see you," he whispered, his lips already red and swollen from how hard he was biting them. 

You weighed the pros and cons in your mind first. But, yeah, who cares? You're attracted to him anyway! It's a win-win situation, right?

"I swear, if you tell a single soul about this," you warned before straddling him, grabbing his shirt, and crashing your lips on his.

He forcefully pulled the pillow from his lap away, causing you to stumble a little, desperate to feel you even in the tiniest bit. His hands landed on your waist, trying to push you down on his lap.

You pulled away, "Stop. Hands off."

He stared at you with big puppy eyes and a pout, "Y/n," he whines. 

"Keep your hands off me if you want to know if it's true." Beomgyu placed his hand on his side. Trying his best not to touch you, gripping the fuzzy blanket instead, veins popping on his neck as he threw his head back. What a good day to wear sweats, he could fully feel you, and you could fully feel him hardening each second. 

Beomgyu used to order you around. He's a bit bitchy and bossy. Yet he's being pliant today. So you were enjoying this, watching him crumble under you, doing anything you were saying.

You moved your hips again, making him emit a desperate moan. Calling your name like the sex-deprived man he is, "P-please... Please it hurts..." he whines again, tears threatening to spill, nails almost tearing your blanket apart. Yet you grind again, teasing him some more. "If you cum too early, you'll end up not knowing whether it's true," you taunt. So he bucks his hips up, along with loud moans and whimpers, drowning the long forgotten movie in the background, too desperate and stimulated.

"M-more..." he whispered under his breath, almost unheard if you didn't pay attention, not wanting to get ahead of himself. 

You stopped your movement, making him groan and gasp. But blush crept up his pretty face when you moved down between his legs, spreading them open, kissing the tent on his sweats. He drapes his arm on his face as he throws his head back. He didn't know this would happen. He only asked if you could show him how you squirt, but he didn't expect for you to give him more.

"Y/n," he muttered, his hand muffling his mouth, "I-if you don't f-feel like it, you d-don't have to do this...."

"You don't want this, Gyu?" He looked down at you, only to throw his head back again when he saw you pouting with big round eyes. 

"Fuck..." He sighed, "Can I at least hold your head?"

And you let him. You let him tangle his fingers on your hair, but he's not allowed to push you down. You let him grip on your hair, but he's not allowed to pull you back.

As you pulled his sweats down, he tried his best to look at you. But he would end up closing his eyes because he can't look at you straight in the eye. 

"I won't give you a head if you don't look at me," you giggled, making him whine for the nth time.

And so he tried his best to maintain eye contact. Even when he's struggling to keep his eyes open because it feels too good. Even when he could only gasp because you're doing your best to take him whole in your mouth. He heard you gag over and over, yet he can only tangle his fingers in your hair gripping it. He wants to push you down, to fuck your pretty little mouth, to cum already, but he's waiting for your signal. He wants to be a good boy for you. He wants to be good. He wants you to praise him. He wants you to shower him with kisses later on because he was obliging to your commands.

And an idea came to your mind. You scooped out some of the melted ice cream and let it drip on his fully erect and wet cock. Beomgyu whimpers at the cold sensation.

"T-that's... Ahhh..." His voice was too shaky as he tried to form a sentence. Which he wasn't very successful in doing.

You carefully licked the melted ice cream, pushing your tongue on his slit.

"Y/n, c-can I cum? It.. ahh.. it hurts s-so much, p-please," he pleaded, drool rolling down from the corner of his lips, crying.

"Since you're too pretty, sure," you smiled sweetly, full of innocence. He lets go of your hair, placing them down on the couch, clutching on the blanket again. With one thrust in your mouth, he came undone, shooting spurts of sticky white cum inside your mouth. 

Beomgyu tried catching his breath as he looked down at you. He reached for your face, pressing on each side to make you open it. He watched your tongue swirl around the pool of his cum. Beomgyu pressed his thumb on your tongue, playing with his cum. "Swallow."

With a single command, you quickly obliged, swallowing the mix of sweet and salty taste from his cum and the ice cream. This time you felt so little under him as you sat on the floor between his legs. You opened your mouth for him to check. "Good girl," he smiled as he pulled you up, making you straddle him again.

"Did you enjoy your time ordering me around, baby?" He asked, tucking your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him, nodding with a wide grin.

His hand ran lower to your chest, touching your breast, causing you to bite your lower lip. 

"Tell me, why aren't you wearing a bra, hm?" He stared at you straight in the eye, raising his eyebrow, looking for a proper answer.

"I didn't know you were gonna drop by again," you pout.

"I see," he said, pinching your nipple.

"G-gyu..." you whimpered.

"Hm?" You looked away, clutching at the hem of your shirt. 

Beomgyu rolls your nipples against his finger again, making you quiver.

"G-gyu!" You moaned, holding his wrist. 

"What is it? Are you lost?" he chuckled, pulling your nipple.

"Ahh! Shit! Mhhmp!" you collapsed above him, hiding in his neck, whimpering and whining over and over again. You heard him let out a hearty chuckle again before wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"Too much?" he asked, and you nodded as an answer. "Okay, okay, I won't do it again, remove your pajama," he whispered.

You get off of him to discard your silk pajama, before repositioning yourself on top of him again. He kissed your forehead and played a little with the band of your panties.

Aligning his tip on your clothed pussy, he tried thrusting, teasing you, and smirking at how you squirm and pout at the stimulation.

Yet when he pushed your panties to the side, he saw the sticky wetness on the cloth from your hole. "So you're ordering me around while you're being wet like this, am I right?" he grinned.

He started teasing your pussy, pushing his red tip and letting it slide away. "Aww, too bad, I think it won't fit," he pouts, still teasing you. You whined back, wanting to feel him bare.

He teased you more and more. Until you couldn't take it anymore as you rose to your knees and aligned him against your hole, forcing your way down. You ended up collapsing in his arms again. Not prepared at all as you felt a burning pain from the stretch of his fat cock.

"God fucking damn it, don't do that again, you'll end up hurting yourself," Beomgyu winces as he tries to soothe you by combing your hair and kissing your face.

"No matter how desperate you want to feel me, don't do that again, okay? I haven't even properly stretched you out yet," he whispered, rubbing your back.

"Come here," he pulled your face to give you a kiss. A kiss that washed the pain away. Tongues fighting, teeth clashing, saliva mixing. It was nasty, lewd, and filthy. Yet you love it, moaning at the feeling. Especially when Beomgyu started to thrust his hips up, slowly training you with his size. 

His lips traveled down to your neck, leaving splotchy red marks and wet open-mouthed kisses in his wake. His hand fully grasped your breasts, slowly massaging them, occasionally rolling your nipples beneath his fingers, enjoying the way you moan his name in his ear as you catch your breath. 

Then he pulled away, holding your waist as he started his precise and delicious thrusts. 

"Deep?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with a grin. You nodded, both of your hands on his chest to keep your balance.

"How deep?" he smirked.

"H-here," you managed, pulling his hand and letting him press on your abdomen. You whimpered when he pressed harder, making you feel every curve and vein of his cock.

"Will you show me how you squirt? How did you find out you can?" he bombed you with questions, still maintaining his pace in thrusting inside your gummy walls.

"W-will show you G-gyu, will do... I ..ahh.. f-found out... One time when I t-touched myself," you started. "W-when you c-called me.. mmmph! W-with your morning voi....voice."

"You're touching yourself to my voice? Fuck, how desperate are you?" he scoffed, thrusting harder.

"W-wait! Ahh! Too m-much! Gyu!" You hid on his neck again, feeling so little and inferior. 

"I-it was only one time! I.. I never did it again!" You managed to squeak out, voice muffled on his neck.

"Then let's make you squirt again, yeah?" he sneered, pulling you back by your hair as you groan at the pleasuring pain spreading through your scalp.

He lifted you up for a bit, and he started fucking your hole with a faster and rougher pace. "Squirt on my cock, squirt on my cock." He kept on repeating it over gritted teeth, adding force to every thrust.

"G-gyu, w-wait, I'm gonna cum--" Clear liquid came out gushing from your hole, pushing his cock out along with your creamy cum, soiling your couch.

"Fuck.. do it again!" His grin grew wider as he lifted you up again and thrusted even harder with greater force.

"Gyu! Gyu! Beomgyu!" You chanted his name over and over again, your toes curled and your stomach twisted at the overstimulation. Yet he kept on fucking into you.

And again, you let out a gush of clear liquid. Whole body spasming above Beomgyu. His cock twitches as he pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. 

"T-this is dirty G-gyu," you muttered below your breath, body spent as you found support from his shoulder.

"No. I like it. This is fucking hot. Makes me wanna fuck you more," he laughs.

You eyes flicker across the room. The couch, the blanket, and the pillows were wet. The chocolate-flavored ice cream smeared on his pants.

Beomgyu slowly slides himself inside you again, thrusting more precisely, wanting to cum inside you this time. He buried his face in your neck as he pushed your hips down. 

"F-fuck! Wanna fill you up!" 

"P-pull out, Gyu! Please!" you pleaded, clawing his back.

Beomgyu pulls out. Hissing through his teeth, he pumped his cock a few times and ended up cumming on your tummy. 

"Fuck," he pants, leaning back on the couch and pulling you to his chest. 

You heard how his heart thumped so hard and how his breathing was so ragged. You buried your face in his neck, allowing your heart to calm down. And realization settled in. You just had sex with your best friend.

"If you won't still ask me to date you after today, I'll ask Kai out, I know he likes me." You muttered, feigning nonchalance.

"What the fuck? Do you want me to tell them how good I made you feel?" he taunts, tangling his fingers in your hair as he gives it a little pull, making you moan.

"See? Only I am allowed to see you like this, to make you so spent like this, understood?" he frowns.

"Only if you date me," you said as you latched your lips on his neck, leaving a mark of ownership.

"Fuck," he scoffed, touching the part where you left a mark when you pulled away. 

@binniesbooks 2024

[legonerd]

showverse or movieverse || fluff or angst || rebooted or skybound || happy ending or open ending || gen or ship || no powers or new powers || tournament of elements or possession || hurt/comfort or no comfort || secret identity or secrets revealed || morro or harumi || canon divergence or canon re-write || legacy of the green ninja or sons of garmadon || modern or historical || character death or character resurrection || villain redemption or evil ninja || prime empire or master of the mountain || books or games || canon or crossovers || one-shot or chaptered || hands of time or fire and ice chapter

This or that, ninjago fic edition!  which of these do you like reading and/or writing the best?

showverse or movieverse || fluff or angst || rebooted or skybound || happy ending or open ending || gen or ship || no powers or new powers || tournament of elements or possession || hurt/comfort or no comfort || secret identity or secrets revealed || morro or harumi || canon divergence or canon re-write || legacy of the green ninja or sons of garmadon || modern or historical || character death or character resurrection || villain redemption or evil ninja || prime empire or master of the mountain || books or games || canon or crossovers || one-shot or chaptered || hands of time or fire and ice chapter 

[kurokawaia]

❛ Self Care ❜

Postwar!Sasuke X Fem!Reader

WC; 2k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: fab!fem!Reader,soft Sasuke like rlly soft and affectionate guys, body worship, reader is depicted as a medical ninja, this is so fluffy guys, use of {Y/n}, suggestive towards the end, fluff.

˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯; @lovelyandproblematic - ok since you asked and I have severe incurable Sasuke simp brain rot so if you ever need prompt ideas lmk! ty for being my fav tumblr creator rn 😍 SELF CARE SUNDAY W/ SASUKE! I’m talking face masks, eye masks, cute headbands, warm robes, and a nice candlelit bubble bath, the whole nine yards! He’d prolly never admit it but he def needs to be spoiled and might have to be forced bribed into participating (*cough* body worship? *cough*) but poor boy has been thru soo much he needs a night to relax and pls get some moisturizer on him stat! his skin must be screaming lmaooo

this is being depicted as sasuke being 19-20 years old, he's come back for a little while to Konoha from his redemption mission for a bit (he missed you :))

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

"I'll see you later, Sakura!" I droned with satisfaction, giving her a one-armed hug as she did too, our arms filled with only a couple of bags while doing it.

Sakura released herself from the hug after a few seconds, still donning that warm smile plastered on her face. "See you tomorrow, yeah?" She asked.

"For what?" I replied in confusion.

"Lady Tsunade said she'd like to meet up with us," Sakura said, taking this in characteristically.

"I think she does miss us, but she doesn't say that," I said with a chuckle, leaving my glossy lips open. "I guess I should not drink too much news here tomorrow night."

"I'll see you, {Y/n}," She said while waving walking away.

"Bye, love!" I replied.

I pulled my keys from my bag and slid the key into the lock that was positioned on the traditional sliding door. With an exhausted chuck, I stepped in, slumping down on the step up into the house; slipping the ninja shoes off, placing them on the rack, seeing another pair—male pair.

I opened my lips as I started to wonder whose they might be, my heart flattered at the thought of Sasuke having to be back, its long past a day, absolutely late into the night—who knows for how long he has been back.

I nibbled on my bottom lip again. Sasuke has come to visit three times in the two years he's been out. When Sasuke came back a few months ago he said he wouldn't be coming back for a couple of years and now look at him, he's here. It's odd, I wonder if something had gone wrong?

I place my bags next to the stair case that leads up to the bedrooms.

I have yet to see Sasuke up and around our house; by now, I assume that he is soundly asleep and probably tired. I pushed the door of our bedroom open, and right in front of me is my lover, soundly sleeping in his deep sleep on our bed, with the dark blue cover across his full body as he snuggles into the sheet. It brings a sight that only brings a gentle smile across my lips.

I silently walk over to Sasuke's side of the bed. The hand itself was placed coquette-like on the cheek exposed to me. I bent down so that I could apply a warm, tender kiss to his forehead. I could feel his body easing into the touch of my hand and smiled, because even from a kiss, that feeling had been transmitted to me.

I had just started on the way to the bathroom when, literally only a moment before I could remove my hand from Sasuke's pale cheek, I was holding another hand. Turning back to look, I see Sasuke's weary eyes peering into mine, and I immediately frown in worry.

"Sorry, dear," I murmured quietly, leaning down to look into Sasuke's eye's. "I woke you."

"Don't stress," Sasuke hummed back with a tired sigh.

"'M just going to go have a shower and I'll be right back," I bumbled on, but Sasuke wouldn't let go of my hand. "Are you all right, my dear?"

Sasuke hummed in response, showing he was fine. "I won't be too long, Sasuke," I answered. "But it will take longer if you don't let me go," I added with a soft smile.

I watched Sasuke as he got up slowly, still holding my hand, his head drooping to my stomach for a moment of silence, showing he was tired. My other hand brushed the hair out of his face, and I placed a kiss at the top of his head.

"You wanna come with me?" I had said, and he had nodded his head tiredly against my stomach. "Alright."

"You go ahead, I'll be there in a second," Sasuke mumbled, drawing back from me and looking up at me with those onyx and purple eyes.

"Okay," I smiled softly, and Sasuke released his grip on my hand.

"I figured a bath would be better; you seem really tired," I hummed as I watched Sasuke slump down on the stool beside the bath, leaning his head against the wall.

I let out a sigh and turned back before going to the cabinets under the sink to grab some bath oils and some vanilla scented body soap. "My love," I muttered as I realized just how tired Sasuke is. I had no idea as to why he would be that tired, as the last few times he came back home he seemed normal.

Maybe that's it—something happened to Sasuke, and I just didn't catch it, and now he can't manage. Man, I really am a horrible girlfriend. So stupid.

I rummaged for some facial lotions and serums for myself, but such a funny thought came across my mind. Sasuke won't mind if I apply these things to his face, now would he?

A smile rose to my face, and I saw Sasuke look at me through the mirror, his expression suspicious, and I simply let out a soft giggle. Watched him shake his head and lean it back onto the wall, a small smile on his face. Well, whatever it is I'm doing sure cheers him up.

"Ah, are you hungry, love?" I asked and added salts, oils, and body lotion to the bath.

"Eh, a little bit," Sasuke mumbled.

"That means you are. What would you like for dinner? If we go outside, we could go out to a fancy restaurant. Or I can cook something," I replied sarcastically, adding an eyeroll about his small fib.

"I'll stay in," remarked Sasuke as he stood up. Heck, much to my surprise, he stood behind me, wrapped an arm around my waist, and whispered sulkily against the side of my neck, "Beef tomato curry." I smiled, but of course he couldn't see me. "Okay."

I chuckled softly. "But it's gonna take a couple of minutes. That's fine?"

"Yeah," Sasuke hummed shortly.

"Okay, then. Enter," I said, walking around gently in his arm. "I'm going to start dinner, and then I'll come in with you." Sasuke gave me a soft kiss before pulling away, his hand moving from my waist to cupping my cheek. "Don't be too long," Sasuke mumbled.

"Ten minutes, love," I said. "I just need to slice things and put them in with broth.

Back into the bathroom I went, well ten minutes later, by that time I was pretty good at cutting up a bunch of stuff in a hurry. The door slid open with a soft push, and my eyes landed on Sasuke. He was nearly asleep in the bath; at the sight, a soft smile touched my lips. My tired boy.

I peeled off my ninja clothes and stacked them next to Sasuke's grey sweats, as that was all he was wearing. I put the serums and facial creams on the rim of the bathtub before I slid into the warm water.

In forty five minutes dinner will be ready plus another ten minutes to cook the rice.

And I press myself down over Sasuke's lap and watch him open his eye, with the rim of the Rinnegan just peaking from under his fringe. My hand cups his cheek as I look down at his skin. The condition of his skin feels pretty dry. I had been planning to use my serums and my skincare anyways, but then again, Sasuke had first dibs.

I squeezed some of the serum out onto the tips of my fingers and started applying the thick liquid, brushing over his features, my fingers slipping under his fringe. I knew quite well he didn't like me pushing it up, though his nose scrunched ever so slightly when I did it, which I found rather cute.

"When did you come home?" I asked calmly.

"At about midday," he repeated. "I had hoped you'd be at home."

"I'm sorry, Love. Was out shopping," I replied, and remembered the bags downstairs; I had left them full, not only with groceries but with some new clothes.

I smoothed some of the moisturizing lotion across his face, just marveling at the beauty in front of me—it was just so flawless. "You said you wouldn't be coming back for a while," I said through a mumble, and Sasuke's hand just covered mine over his cheek.

Sasuke sighed before replying, "Nah, I wasn't feeling too well-" "What? Are you sick?" I asked, worried. My other hand went to his forehead, but I found that he did not have a fever and a temperature attack. Sasuke is acting funny. "Well," I went on, "you look tired, Sasuke. Please relax for me."

He nodded once more and began to hum as he clipped his eyes contently while I continued to clean him up. I noticed that he was actually really clean, though his skin is very dry.

"My love?" I asked as Sasuke gently opens his eyes.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"Did you shower before I got here?"

"I would've done that," Sasuke answered. "I wasn't gonna go in bed dirty, I know how much you don't like the sheets getting dirty too fast."

'Yeah,' I smiled before letting my hands rest soft against the skin about his shoulders and neck. The quiet lasted longer than a few moments, though my lips parted and I asked again, 'Sasuke, why did you come home early? You said—you said you would be gone for a couple of years.

"I missed what home felt like," Sasuke replied and I saw the lump he swallowed in his throat.

My brows furrowed in confusion. "Don't worry, Sasuke. Home will always be here, wherever you go," I murmured, leaning my forehead against his.

"I missed my home," Sasuke repeats and I cupped his cheeks.

My lips ghosted over his as I spoke, "You're home, love."

"I want you to come with me," Sasuke said.

"What?" I said breathlessly.

"I want my home to come with me."

Understanding dawned on me. He wasn't talking about our house; Sasuke was talking about me.

His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, and I let out a small gasp. "I'll come, Sasuke," I hummed as I closed my eyes and let my lips grace his own.

He tasted like frustration and anger, but with an underlying flavor of caramel; peculiarly, that was him.

It is only the lip balm I had put on that had not made his chapped lips hurt.

I was his home, and he was doing all these wanderings, and I don't know where without it—without me.

Something in me just took over, and I kissed him. Really kissed him. I got a little animal groan from him when my tongue slipped on in. His hand moved, tightened around the back of my waist, and drew me inexorably closer into him than I already was.

Pooled heat in my stomach as Sasuke's dick pressed up at my entrance, and I let out a breathless sigh into his mouth before I pulled away. "Let me touch you," I asked as I nipped at the skin below his ear, only leaving subtle red marks in its path.

"You don't have to ask me for anything," moaned Sasuke. "Do what you want."

When they made some kind obscure noises about my thanks, my hands slid down his arms, shoulders, and toned abs. Sasukes head lolled back, leaning against the edge of the bathtub.

"You're s'beautiful," I mumbled in between breaths of me marking up the base of his neck.

His arm tightened further around my waist, and he pressed me down as much as he could to his dick, and I let out a moan against his neck, while Sasuke let out a sigh of content.

"So beautiful."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

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[ghostbeam]

Oblivi_n.exe | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Notes: okay wow hiiiii it’s been a long time since I’ve posted an actual fic (nearing almost a year now😬) this is something I’ve been working on for a bit. I have mech brain rot curtesy of @streimiv and @hawnks (both of whom this is dedicated to bc there’s no way I could have written this without yapping to them abt it and also mint helped me come up w the acronym for HERO’s) and we’ve all got our own mech fics in the works atm but anywayssssss this is kind of my baby atm but I hope it makes sense it’s very inspired first and foremost by pacific rim and then also NGE (mostly through consumption of YouTube vids bc I haven’t actually watched it pls don’t hate me) it’s a whole mess of things and Dabi is kind of a bitch and reader is slowly coming into herself and at the end of the day they both wanna be metal fused to one another forever (no matter how hard he denies it) also I’m not a huge computer person idk if this title makes sense so don’t make fun of me pls ok anyways I hope u like it!!!!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, pilot!Dabi x handler!reader, there’s no explicit sexual content in this part, not even a kiss sorry guys, mentions of robot gore (exposed wires, insides described as guts), brief descriptions of being trapped inside a small space, descriptions of burning while inside said space, mention of surgery to fashion a metal jaw onto someone, mentions of child abuse (nothing graphic just allusions to the todoroki family and touya’s past), angst, many run on sentences, a small cliff hanger

Words: 7.9k

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 (coming soon)

You are nothing without your machine.

It’s the first rule, the first thing beaten into his brain by his father. You carry the burden of the mech alone, or you’re weak. You don’t exist. 

U.A. raises the best and brightest pilots, navigators, mechanics, and handlers, each one carefully trained to ensure the most important outcome: winning. It should be protection. It should be defense. But if Touya has learned anything at all, it’s that winning means glory. It means worship. It means HERO’s (Human Engineered Robotic Objects) are saints, and pilots are gods. 

 Touya used to be one of those best and brightest before his accident. 

First son to Enji Todoroki, Touya was supposed to be the golden child, the first Todoroki to pilot without a handler. He was supposed to carry the burden alone, something his father couldn’t do, something only one man has ever actually been capable of. 

But Touya is born weak, bad bones, a brain unable to handle all that the mech needs to unload onto it. One too many accidents results in him being expelled from the pilot program, his HERO discarded and collecting dust in its pod, and Touya is promptly transferred to mechanics. 

It should have been a smooth transition. If one kid can’t handle it, the next will. Because they have to. 

He doesn’t take the news well. It’s a fit of tears, a persistent fight, unable to accept the loss of his machine—of his body. Because Touya loves it. What he lacks in strength, he makes up for in pure passion, and despite being unable to handle the burden, there’s no denying that he’s good. He’s almost perfect. 

But almost is not enough for Enji Todoroki, and no matter how hard Touya tries, he’s made up his mind. 

After months of mechanics, Touya makes a decision. When the next fleet of HERO’s is deployed for the next kaiju battle, Touya sneaks in among the chaos, tucked neatly inside the chest of his machine where he belongs. It doesn’t take long for things to go south, for Touya to get caught in the crossfire, losing control of his mech and burning from the inside out. 

It should be an excruciating death, stuck inside a machine made for war, fire raining from above as a battle continues on outside without him. 

But he survives, because what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in resilience, and his mech is programed with solutions to every situation. He’s stuck inside for months before he’s found.

Tomura Shigaraki rescues him, pries open the chest of his mech and pulls him from inside. His group feeds him, takes him in, fashions a new jaw for him made from the metal of his mech, and allows him the decision to join their cause or go back home. 

And since there’s no home to go back to, Touya finds his footing with the league and becomes one of their top pilots. One who vehemently resists any and all handlers.

…

Touya Todoroki, known as ‘Dabi’ to the league, quirk class: cremation, mech title: Blue. You’re his new handler. 

As Dabi’s new handler, you’re well aware of his history, how frequently he goes through handlers assigned to him. Not that he ever uses them—it’s more complete resistance. You’re not particularly good at your job. Transferred from the PLF for lack of success in handling any of their pilots, you’ve always been far too gentle. You lack authority. Your pilots never respected you. You don’t think Dabi will be any different. You give it a week. 

Following closely behind Tenko, formerly Tomura, he quickly explains to you the in’s and out’s of the pilot/handler relationship, along with a warning about Dabi’s resentment toward the whole idea. You try to keep up, but he talks quickly and uses his hands a lot. Even so, you can tell he’s a natural leader, something he had to grow into after overthrowing the man who raised him. His story is a tragic one, and it resonates with you because Tenko came out the other side stronger. Now, the league is a community with a cause, one you really believe in. Even if you and Dabi aren’t the right fit, you still have a place here. 

You follow Tenko into what he calls the garage, a large floor of the abandoned academy that serves as the league’s base, this part of it full of HERO’s and mechanics all focused on the machines in front of them. It’s completely different from how HERO’s were worked on at UA, where you grew up, and even the PLF didn’t have one dedicated floor to this sort of work. You can feel the energy of the room buzzing on your skin, music blasting from old radios and mechanics tossing tools towards one another in a familiar routine. Tomura leads you to Dabi and his HERO, Blue, though you’re instructed not to call it a HERO around him. With goggles over his eyes and gloved hands, he brings two wires from Blue’s ankle together, sighing at the way they spark each time they connect. 

“Dabi.” Tomura calls over the music coming from the radio hanging off of Dabi’s waist. He drops the wires and his gaze flickers toward the two of you. Pushing his goggles up to his forehead, he gives you a once over. His eyes are the brightest you’ve ever seen—kaiju blood blue—and burn scars litter his body. He’s striking in a way you’ve never seen, almost too beautiful to be human. Giving Dabi your name, Tomura explains that you’re taking over as his handler, seeing as he couldn’t keep the last one for more than a couple of days. “She’s your last handler. If you can’t keep this one, then go ahead and fry your brain. See if I care.”

“You say that every time.” Dabi calls from around sucker as Tomura walks away, leaving you alone with your new pilot. 

You just your hand out in a greeting, “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Eyeing your hand, Dabi shakes his head and turns his back to you, picking the two wires back up and connecting them again, despite the same spark from before igniting between the two. He looks back up at Blue, touching his fingers to the slim lines starting at the back of her ankle and running all the way up her leg. You peak over his shoulder at the wiring, noticing that he’s connecting two of the wrong ones. 

“It’s the wrong wire.” You tell him, and he spins around to look at you, tearing his goggles from his face as he scoffs. 

“Here we go.” He sighs with a roll of his eyes, pulling the candy from his lips and tossing it onto the tool cart without a care. “Handler know-it-all bullshit. This is my mech.”  

You push passed him and grab the similarly colored wire from beside a red wire and connect it with the one in Dabi’s right hand. Blue lights up cyan through the thin lines that run along each of its limbs and torso, connecting with the two cameras within its head, which seem to blink before the light reaches them. 

In an instant, you’re being pushed up against the hard metal, a strong arm over your chest—pinning you up against the HERO. Dabi, now having discarded his goggles, looks at you full of white, hot rage. 

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He growls. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity, eyes flickering between the snarl across his lips and his angry gaze. For a beat, you both freeze, the air suddenly charged like you’re waiting for one another to strike. Snapping yourself out of his hypnotic stare, you push against his chest, forcing him to let you go. 

“If I’m going to be you’re handler, you’re going to have to trust me with her.” You remind him. He lets out a harsh laugh, like he can’t believe you would suggest such a ridiculous idea. 

“I don’t trust anything but this machine.” He speaks, turning away from you to seal up the machine’s exposed wires. It’s a challenge you’re willing to accept.

“Well, I’m here to change that.” You tell him, before turning on your heel to leave him alone. 

He thinks he’ll give you a week. 

…

One of the worst parts of being assigned a handler, Touya thinks, is the way that pilot/handler living quarters are set up. He assumes the academy, before it was abandoned and turned into a base for the league, created this sort of set up so that handlers could keep a close eye on their pilots. The handlers Touya has burned through up until now also assumed the same. 

The door that connects both the pilot’s and handler’s dorms doesn’t lock, and all of Touya’s past handlers have taken advantage of this fact. He’s been pulled out of bed far too early, pushed around and commanded and barked at. Most handlers behaved as if pilots belonged to them, which was the sentiment drilled into their brains from being thrown into such a fucked up system at a young age.—unless you were a pilot of status like a Todoroki. While he league dedicates a lot of its time to reversing these ideas, most handlers look at Touya like some kind of challenge, this arrogant pilot begging to be tamed. It never takes long for them to realize how easily he’s able to flip the switch on them. You’ll be no different.

But hours pass and you still haven’t entered. You don’t swing the door open and demand he apologize for his behavior earlier. You don’t try and punish him with training regimes, a command of a set of push ups, a schedule you expect him to follow, an extremely detailed meal plan. The entire evening comes and goes without so much as a sound on the other side of the door so he knows you’re even behind it. 

He falls asleep unnerved by this, waking up late into the night in a cold sweat, expecting you to barge in, rip the covers from his body and demand to train together. When he wakes up (peacefully) the next morning, there’s no sign of you. He rises from his bed, drinks orange juice straight from the carton and eats a candy bar for breakfast. He fiddles with the navigation screen from his mech that stopped working a couple of days ago, tools spread out on the counter in front of him. Once he’s got the thing working again, your knock sounds from the unlocked door between the two of you. He thinks this might be it, the commands he expects to fall from your lips at the ready as he swings the door open, but you stand there, nervous, hands twitching as your eyes finally meet his.

Greeted by a shirtless Touya, hair mused from sleep, cargo pants hung low on his hips, dog tags swinging against his chest, his scars on display, unashamed and proud. The sight of him knocks the breath out of you, and you clear your throat in embarrassment, hoping your state of dreaming comes off as nerves rather than lust. 

“Dabi. Or do you prefer Touya?” You smile. When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I wanted to see if you wanted to eat breakfast together in the caf. I think we should start over. Yesterday was—”

You’re promptly cut off, “I already ate breakfast.”

With a harsh slam of the door, he leaves you stunned in your room.

You eat alone. 

When you started as a pilot, back when you’d entered UA (a few years about Touya’s accident), you went into it believing you could change the world. The exam had placed you into the position of handler, and you were assigned a pilot who had always seemed a little frightened of you despite your obvious lack of authority. Bringing the fact up to your instructors did nothing. They all assured you that this was the ideal dynamic, that the handler always had the upper hand, but you hated that feeling. You weren’t a team like you expected to be; you were urged to control your pilot. You were there to keep them in line, not to be a pillar of support. The bond was never built on trust, and the soul link was always a looming threat. No matter how many pilots you went through, the link was never held as a gift, but a prison, something you would both be stuck with for the betterment of society, a sacrifice to make. 

You’d been expelled from the handler program after guiding your pilot to help save another in the wreckage of your first battle together, resulting in the damage of your pilot’s HERO. Your pilot was okay, but the other couldn’t be saved, and you were blamed for the damage of both mech’s. 

When you found the league (or when the league found you), you were working with the PLF, but proved to be a weak handler. Every pilot you were assigned to took advantage of your optimistic outlook on the kind of relationship dynamic that pilots had with their handlers. Despite all that you had been through at UA, and with the rest of the pilots you’d been paired with after, you never gave up the hope that handlers and pilots could behave as a team, or, even better, one entity. 

Tenko had taken one look at you and demanded you’d be transferred to the league. There hadn’t been much of a choice in the matter, not that you really cared. You were miserable everywhere else. But when you arrived at the abandoned academy and taken a peak behind the kudzu covered walls where each and every area of the building acted as multiple moving parts in collaboration with one another in order to create one massive system, you realized that this was the future you imagined for yourself—and for the world you lived in.

Tenko saw something in you that day, something you aren’t sure you even see in yourself. And so Dabi was your first task, one that’s proving to be very difficult. But he doesn’t treat you like all the other pilots before had. He doesn’t use you. In fact, it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. And while that’s a problem, it’s still one you can work with. 

You’re broken from your thoughts by the sound of a voice through an overhead intercom asking for everyone to meet on the first floor of the academy at their earliest convenience. Judging by the quick movements of those around you, you figure you’d better head downstairs as soon as possible. 

The meeting on the first floor makes you very aware of just how small the league really is. While it’s definitely not a tiny organization, it’s still much smaller than both UA and the PLF. With everyone piled up like this in one group, you realize it feels more like a community, and the hum of conversation that surrounds you comforts you in a way you’ve never felt within the walls of any other academy before. 

There’s discussion about the upcoming mission, one which may be the league’s most ambitious yet; the plan to hijack a mech and kidnap a pilot may be a little unorthodox compared to the league’s past missions, but the jaded pilot they’re targeting has a high chance of joining the cause. Or that’s what they have assumed. As the bodies move and speak around you, it strikes you how different this meeting is from any other meeting you’ve ever been a part of. Tenko is less a dictator and more a wrangler for the disembodied voices of your peers. 

You don’t know much about his story, save for the vague details you’ve heard, but Tenko’s status as a lone handler is something you find yourself curious about. If he’s able to work without a pilot, why can’t you? It’s an idea you keep in your back pocket, one you think you can fall back on if things with Touya don’t work out. But you want them to work out. So badly. 

You aren’t sure what it is about him, but he’s reignited that spark inside of you. You know he’d rather you give up, and maybe the you from a couple of months ago would have, but something about him—and this place—won’t let you leave. 

As you observe the meeting, you take the time to look around the room, taking in your peers and their attentive faces as they listen to Tenko intently. You turn to your right, your eyes meeting a pair of blue ones, impossible to miss. Dabi holds your stare for what feels like ages, and when your colleagues erupt in a fit of many simultaneous discussions, you tear your eyes from his to observe the commotion. When you glance back in his direction, he’s gone. 

You don’t seem him again after that. You train with other handlers, get to know your peers a little better. Everyone else seems to be welcoming, and most offer you sympathy when they find out you’re Touya’s new handler. From what you can gather, he’s had his fair share of them, all of which have quit or left in hysterics due to his harsh nature. When you ask around about where he could be, you’re told that he’s most likely in the garage, a place you assume he’s in more often than not.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the garage. A place so completely different, so against the ideas and beliefs of any other academy you’ve been a part of, the chaos and community within is so foreign to you. You find Touya with Blue, working inside of her chest, where the cockpit is. 

“Touya!” You call up to him and watch as he peaks his head over the edge of her metal plating. Annoyance falling across his face, he jumps down from where he stands, landing hard on his feet in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” He questions, his figure so tall and imposing above you. He’s not particularly muscular, not even all that tall compared to Tenko, but he makes you feel small regardless, in more ways than one. Rolling your shoulders back, you stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down. 

“I figured you wanted your space today.” You explain, as Touya moves around you to get to his rolling cart of tools, forcing you to turn toward him and follow him if you want him to hear you. “I know adjusting to a new handler is rough, and I never want to make you uncomfortable. But I was thinking we could try some of those pilot/handler bonding exercises. It might be good to start training like some of the others do.”

He drops the wrench in his hand onto his cart with a loud thud, turning around toward you with a look of disbelief on his face. “Pilot/handler bonding exercises? They really brainwashed the shit out of you at UA, huh?”

At the mention of your past academy, your eyes widen in surprise. You had no idea he knew about that. Clearing your throat in order to compose yourself, you speak again, “I left UA for a reason. I have no attachment to their methods, but you guys do the same stuff here, so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I never asked for a fucking handler in the first place, especially not one as eager as you.” He spits, “Sure, you’re understanding now, all that bullshit about ‘giving me space,’ but the moment you get a lick of power over me, you’ll change. You’re not different.”

“I don’t want power over you. This is an equal exchange. Pilot’s and handlers are meant to be a team—” You try and argue, but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“That’s what they told you, right? We’re a team, and as teammates, you make sacrifices. And it doesn’t matter if one of you turns into the other’s braindead dog because that’s your place.” His words hit you hard, the exact thought process you went through when leaving UA, completely disillusioned with their idea of “teamwork.” He’s right, and you know it, but since coming here, you thought that wasn’t how it had to be.

“Look, trust me, I get—” You’re cut off again.

“You went to UA! There’s no trusting you.” He scoffs, “It’s not like you’ll last here, anyway.”

“You are such a hypocrite! You’re from UA!” You retort, throwing your arms up in desperation. “You can hate me all you want. You can resist and resist and fry your brain ‘till there’s nothing left, but I believe in this shit. And you don’t get to tell me that I don’t, or tell me I’ll turn into something I worked so hard to get away from.”

Touya stands there, surprised by your outburst, completely unaware that you were capable of all of that. He doesn’t say anything back, and you roll your eyes. “So fuck you, and, by the way, her angel port is smoking.”

At your words, he turns in a rush, seeing the smoke billowing from Blue’s chest as he climbs his way up her form. Once inside his machine, he extinguishes the port and allows himself to relax. There are two things on his mind in this moment: how you could have possibly known it was the angel port without being inside of Blue’s chest and how, for the first time in a long time, he feels bad for his handler.

But for you, it’s the first time you’ve ever held your own against a pilot before, and that feels good.

…

Something feels weird.

Off, unsettling, strange.

He realizes, much to his dismay, that it’s your absence. Despite only having you around for such a short time, Touya has realized that your lack of presence now feels wrong. He hates it. He hates you. 

He can’t find you. You haven’t knocked on his door. You’re not in the caf, not the garage, not the sparring floor, not in your room. And he did check—without knocking. 

He’s not even sure how he can feel an absence. You aren’t a regular part of his life, and he never wanted you to be. But he feels all fucked up.

During training, Touya jams Blue’s halo core and she leaks vibrant neon from between her ribs. It takes him half an hour to get her reboot her system and rips one of the cables attached to the back of his suit in the process. He spends the afternoon cleaning HERO fluid off the sparring floor. 

During repairs, he shocks himself over and over while trying to fix her core, fingers burning from the sparks each time he arranges the wires inside. The cameras in her eyes won’t work from the reboot, and Blue won’t let him unlock the lens panel to fix it. It’s almost like she’s mad at him too.

He’s a complete mess. It’s your fault. He has no choice but to go looking for you. Again.

He searches every wing of the academy before concluding that you’re in your room. He barges through the joint door, spotting you at the counter in your tiny kitchen. You’re surprised by the intrusion, a frightened gasp falling from your lips as you jump in your seat. You turn toward him, prepared with angry words on your tongue, but Touya speaks first.

“You’re not getting an apology out of me, so don’t expect it.” He begins, moving to stand in front of your swiveling kitchen stool as he looks down at you. “But I’m willing to be civil with you, so we don’t have to do this shit anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what “this shit” is, but Touya looks a little worse for wear at the moment, so you don’t question it. He places a tray from the caf down in front of you that you hadn’t noticed in his hands upon arrival, says nothing else, and turns to leave the room. After shutting your joint door, you look down at the tray of food, noticing one of his suckers placed onto a vacant compartment of the tray. 

You’re greeted the next morning with a knock on your door, Touya dressed in his pilot’s suit on the other side as you swing the door open. “C’mon. You’re gonna watch me train today.”

You watch him turn around to leave, expecting you to follow. You rush to pull on your combat boots and grip your dog tags in your fist as you rush to catch up to him. He doesn’t spare you a glance as you fall into step beside him, taking a look around his dorm before he leads you through the exit door. 

“You need to get a feel for my fighting style.” He explains as you walk down the corridor. “I’m not saying I’ll listen to you when it comes down to it, but it’s important for you to know.”

You nod, agreeing that you should definitely observe him inside of his HERO. By understanding his moves, you’ll be able to understand the way he thinks, and you’ll be able to help him in actual combat if needed. He’s already said he won’t listen to you, but it won’t stop you from trying. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you, and you stop with him. 

“If we’re gonna do this, it’ll be on my terms. I’m not your dog.” He tells you, seriously. He eye’s you up and down, taking in your expression as you nod at his words. “If anything, you’re mine.”

He begins walking again, leaving you in your spot, irritation filling your chest as you watch him, smug. “Asshole.” You curse under your breath.

“What’d you say?” He barks, turning to look at you abruptly.

“You’re an asshole.” You speak louder. He walks back toward you, making sure to tower over you intimidatingly as he looks down at you in annoyance. His eyes flicker down to the tags around your neck before hooking a finger on the chain and pulling you closer. 

“Watch it.” He drops the chain and walks away again. 

You follow him to the sparring floor, and he shows you where to go to watch. Stood behind a large window that looks over the sparring area, other members of the base watch the HERO’s engage in combat below. You spot Tenko and he motions for you to stand beside him. 

“I knew he’d warm up to you.” He comments. The last of the previous battle finishes and you watch the two enormous machines retreat to the sides of the area, their pilots emerging from their chests with their handlers rushing to the bottom of the mech’s in support. 

“He hasn’t. He’s not.” You shake your head. You aren’t sure why you deny it, if it’s some way to keep your expectations low or if there’s some kind of embarrassment aspect to the whole thing. Whatever is happening between you and Touya feels intimate and private, something that the two of you need to figure out for yourselves, not something meant for the eyes of others.

“Hm. Okay.” Tenko shrugs. “Guess not.”

You hadn’t noticed Touya enter his mech at all. You see the swing of one giant mechanic arm, too close to the window you stand behind, and you’ve shifted your full attention to the scene at hand. 

The enormity of the room surprises you, despite the fact that you had seen it just moments before. But when you’re truly looking at it, watching these huge machines go at each other, the way the ground shakes, the leaves outside shake, the deep forrest clear in view from the wall that opens out to the greenery (the lack of a wall is likely from the academy’s abandoned state, but it’s a good feature to have on the sparring floor when giant robots are toppled over onto various surfaces).

The way Blue moves is electric, mechanic movements almost feel fluid with the way that Touya pilots her, easily dodging attacks from their opponent and moving around them in the most graceful way a giant machine can. It’s beautiful, unlike any fighting style you’ve ever seen in a HERO before. 

“He’s showing off for you.” Tenko observes from beside you. You don’t argue with him, only because you can’t dispute it. This is your first time seeing him in action. It makes your heart beat out of your chest. There’s this ache like you should be inside with him, cables connected to both of you, tucked neatly inside of Blue together. 

It doesn’t take him long to get his opponent on their back, the heavy thump against the floor jostling the ant-like figures on the ground below, handlers waiting for their pilots to finish. It goes on like this for a while, his training, using different methods of combat and winning each time. He’s amazing, and you can tell why his reputation is the way it is, second only to Tenko, who you have yet to see in action. 

When he finishes his last session, you watch Blue walk to the edge of the room, and Touya emerges from her chest, jumping the long way down her body without any issue. You watch as he looks toward the window you’re behind. He waves at you, an acknowledgment of your presence, and you wave back, though you aren’t sure he can actually see you.

It’s the beginning of everything for the two of you. You think Tenko was right.

He lets you stay with him afterwards while he does maintenance on Blue. He helps you climb up the path to her chest, hauling you over the edge to sit inside with him. He turns around abruptly, holding a hand up before allowing you to walk any further.

“Do not touch anything.” He warns, completely serious, before letting his hand fall and allowing you further into the cockpit. You take in your surroundings, the guts of his machine, analyzing the different control panels and screens that line the interior. You can tell he takes good care of her, and he spends a lot of time in here. It looks lived in, stickers stuck to metal plating and pieces of him all over. He’s made a second home in between the ribs of his mech. You feel a little jealous, though you aren’t sure of what. 

The two of you sit against the left side of Blue’s interior, waiting for her updates to finish, the loading screen on each of her monitors display a fire graphic that grows with the increasing percentage on screen. Between you and Touya sits an opened bag of sour gummies, which Touya picks out the lemon flavor and drops the candy in your palm with each new handful he gathers. 

“How do you know all this stuff?” He questions around a mouthful of sour cherry, “Like, the real names for things, where stuff goes, how to fix them. That day with the wires…”

“I spent a lot of time around mechanics at UA, and then also at the PLF.” You explain, picking the yellow colored candy from his open palm as you speak. “I couldn’t connect with other handlers. I didn’t like how they thought, or how they viewed the pilot/handler relationship. Mechanics were mostly neutral, and they loved these machines like nothing else. They reminded me of why I joined UA in the first place.”

“Hm.” He nods, thinking about your past. “Well, I guess if you spent so much time around actual professionals…I could maybe use your help sometimes in the garage.”

“Really?” You question excitedly, a spark lighting up your eyes as you swerve your head toward him. He feels something tight in his chest at the sight.

“Yes, but only on the outside. I don’t want you messing with her insides, yet.” He establishes. “And never alone. I have to be there at all times.”

“Of course, yes, oh my god. Touya!” You smile, gripping his shoulder firmly, a gesture of thanks, communication of how much his trust means to you. “I’ll be so careful with her, I promise.”

“Yeah, well, you have no other choice.” He shrugs, throwing another pile of candy in his mouth. “I’ll kill you if anything happens to her.”

You take the threat seriously, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s realized that you’ve wormed your way into his life and he hadn’t even noticed just how entangled you were now. 

As the weeks go by, you spend a lot more time together. You work on blue together, and you rest inside of her chest, sometimes allowing yourself to drift off against his shoulder on especially tiring days. He sits beside you in the caf, and while he doesn’t always say much, the feeling of his arm against yours is comforting. You can tell people are starting to notice, and they’re starting to talk. You’re being dubbed someone who’s tamed him, but you know how far from the truth that is. 

Despite your differences and the petty arguments that come up when Touya feels like you’re intruding on his independence, you’re growing attached. You wonder if he is, too.

…

Spending time together in the garage becomes the new normal for the two of you. Being in each other’s dorms feels far too intimate, so you always meet in the garage. This way, one of you is always busy doing something with your hands. There’s no room for any strange feelings in the pit of your stomach to seep in. 

You sit in the crook of Blue’s neck, watching Touya as he repairs the lenses in her “eyes.” Blue has three pairs of eyes; in her head, her chest, and down near her hips, which all footage is projected onto monitors inside the cockpit so that Touya has a full view of what’s in front of him. 

He’s so peaceful while he works, you’ve noticed, almost like he goes somewhere else completely. It’s a part of him you don’t think many people get to see, a piece of him just for you, and you want to be selfish with it.

“Can I ask you something?” You question, leaning your head back against the metal. “But you can’t get mad.”

He looks up at you, still fiddling with a lens, a mocking look on his face. “I’m not making any promises.”

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the possible fallout of the question you’re about to ask, “What do you think about the soul link?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do it.”

You nod your head in understanding, “yeah, I get it. It’s weird, right? The idea that someone else would be inside your brain.”

“It’s fucking invasive.” He says.

“You know, at UA it always felt like a threat, you know. Like, it was a way for a handler to control their pilot, not a tool or a bond like it should be.” You begin, thinking back to how you viewed the soul link back then. You didn’t like how the bond was presented as this power that a handler holds over their pilot, a threat to keep their pilot in line. But, you could understand how the link could be used for good. “But since coming here, I can tell it’s not all bad. People trust each other here. I mean, there’s obviously some people who abuse it, but, for the most part, everyone seems to understand what it really means to be a pilot and a handler.”

You’re mostly just thinking out loud, but Touya doesn’t say anything to your ramblings. He continues to work on the lenses, and you can gather that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject anymore. But you can’t let it go, yet. There’s something you’ve been worried about since you met him.

“And what about…your brain? They say when a handler and a pilot don’t complete the soul link, the pilot will eventually fry their brain.” You can’t help it. You think about it all the time, what will happen when he can’t take it anymore. The closer you get to him, the realer it feels. “Are you ever worried about that?”

He looks at you, an expression you can’t quite make out fall across his face as he stares. It’s almost soft, the way he looks at you in this moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

The truth is, this is a reality Touya has accepted. He’s not afraid to die, and he never has been. He’ll probably die inside of Blue, and he has no problem with that fact. He doesn’t need to be around for long, just enough to show his dad what he’s capable of.

“C’mon.” You stare. “That’s not fair.”

“Shit. I left some of the screws for this in my dorm.” He curses. He looks where you lounge, tucked into Blue’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on her, okay?”

You watch him jump down, much higher than his usual height at her chest, but he lands anyway. He doesn’t turn to look back at you as he jogs away. You climb up the side of Blue, and look at the lenses in her head. They’re already repaired, and you know Touya used the excuse of missing screw just so he wouldn’t have to talk about the soul link.

But it’s the first time he’s ever left you alone with Blue before. 

…

As the mission draws closer, Touya throws himself into training. You’re on the training floor with him most days, standing behind that big glass panel as you watch him spar with his peers. He still doesn’t let you down on the floor with him until he’s full out of Blue and close enough to the edge of the sparring floor to get to you. You’re not allowed in the actual training area, and even though he says he doesn’t want you clinging to him, it’s really because he wants to keep you safe. Seeing your human body near the giant machines that are HERO’s makes him want to grab you and keep you inside of Blue’s chest forever. 

You can tell all the training is taking a toll on him. With an excess of headaches and the occasional nosebleed, you continuously get into arguments about him cutting back on training inside of Blue. There are other ways for him to prepare that don’t involve his fragile brain being hooked up to an entity that takes so much. He doesn’t listen.

Later and later into the night, as your fellow pilots and handlers disperse and return to their rooms to sleep, Touya stays inside of Blue, testing her movements and sparring against test dummies and obstacles. Once you and Touya are the only two left on the sparring floor, you speak into the intercom attached to your head.

“Touya, I think you should take a break.” You tell him, “It’s late. Get some rest and then we can pick it back up in the morning.”

There’s a pause, then, “I’m gonna stay for another hour. Get some sleep. I’ll be done soon.”

“No, Touya. You’ve been at it for hours. You barely took a break for dinner. C’mon.” 

“You know, you sound awfully like a handler trying to tell their pilot what to do.” He teases, but you can hear the irritation in his voice.

“You are insufferable. I’m worried about you.” You groan.

“I’m fine. Go sleep.” He insists.

“If I find out you aren’t out of here in an hour—” Your line is promptly cut off, leaving behind static in your ear. You sigh and throw your com to the side. You hope he’s telling the truth.

With one last look at Blue, you make your way out of the training floor and find your way back to your dorm. 

Touya doesn’t answer the door when you knock the next morning. With a frustrated groan, you leave your dorm and head to the training floor, assuming he woke up early to get some extra hours in. The closer you get the the floor, you notice other members of the base rushing in front of you. Feeling panicked, you pick up the pace, jogging toward the training room to make sure something isn’t wrong. You collide with a body in front of you, nearly falling to the floor as you steady yourself. Toga stands in front of you, her cheeks red and eyes glossy as she explains something your mind can’t catch up to understand. The only thing you recognize is his name, and you’re running toward the training floor in an instant. 

You watch as Blue stomps around the area, her arms swinging in all directions, losing her footing as she moves. Knowing you can’t do anything on the floor, you make your way up to the overlook, finding Tenko yelling into your intercom. 

“What’s going on? What’s happening?” You ask him, pulling the headset off of his head and placing it on yours instead. 

“He’s out of fucking control. He won’t answer. I don’t even think he’s conscious in there.” He tells you, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots in anxiety. “You’re not linked yet, are you?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes in frustration as you try to think. You know it’s the only way. You have to take some of the burden off of him, make him share it with you. It’s the only way he’ll survive right now. “Do you think you can get into Decay right now and knock him down somehow?”

He hesitates, “I can get inside. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to touch him at all.”

“You have to.” You plead, desperately. “I just need him down for ten seconds, tops. As long as I can get inside of her, I can save him.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, and maybe you are. But you know you can’t live with yourself if you don’t try something. Tenko nods.

“I can do it.” He tells you. You rush passed him, following the stairs down to the training area. You feel Tenk grab your wrist firmly. “You bring him back, okay?”

“I will.” You nod. 

He dodges Blue’s movements, weaving between her legs as he finally makes it to Decay. It takes a few moments for him to connect, but he goes straight for Blue. You watch the giant machines fight one another, but it’s clear that Blue’s lack of control hinders much of her ability. She needs Touya just as much as he needs her. It’s tough for Decay to dodge her swinging arms, but Tenko manages to knock her down quickly.

The fall shakes the room, but you waste no time running for Blue. Climbing over the side of her, you manage to touch your thumb to the pad on the outside to open her chest up. She begins to stand up, and you slip down, grabbing onto a bar beneath her ribcage. You let out a frustrated groan as you try to pull yourself up over the edge of the cockpit. Finally making it over, you see Touya sitting there, still connected to his pilot’s chair, eyes glazed over and blood gushing from his nose. You push the button that closes the panel in Blue’s chest, and you’re suddenly alone with him. 

Touya’s body is being jerked around by the movement of the mech, and you hang onto the walls of her chest in order to make your way to him. You situate yourself in his lap, taking his head in your hands as you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“You fucking asshole! I told you to take a break.” You sob, resting your head against his as you try and think of what to do next. “Touya, please. Please, baby, I need to you come back. Just fucking come back so I don’t have to do this without your permission, please.”

With no response from him, you wipe your tears, coming to terms with the fact that you have to complete the soul link now, or he’ll die. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Touya. Please forgive me.”

The soul link isn’t exactly an action so much as it is a feeling, an experience. There’s no trigger for it, no way to make it happen. It just begins. 

It’s Touya, aged thirteen, wild, chubby-cheeked and happy, in the pilot’s seat of his father’s HERO. It’s his drive, his determination, his anger, his hurt. It’s the day he snuck into battle, the day he couldn’t get out, flesh burning and fusing to the metal walls of his mech, the feeling now deep in your skin. It’s you, aged fifteen, hopeful, alive, shaking hands with your first pilot. It’s your heart, much too big and much too open for your line of work, it’s your passion, your fire, every piece of you that was broken down again and again until there was nothing left. It’s Touya and it’s you, and every single bit of your souls now tied together in one big knot. 

There’s nothing but darkness. And then there’s screaming. And then you can hear everything. Every thought running through Touya’s brain right now echoes in your head as you slowly come back to yourself. He can hear the same of yours.

It’s overwhelming at first, to have two sets of thoughts in your head at the same time, but you manage to focus. You can feel an anger inside of you like you’ve never felt. It’s almost like it’s your own. You need to come back. You’ve lost control of Blue.

In an instant, you feel yourself come back to your body, now straddling Touya like before, you feel his arms shoot around you and he tucks his chin over your shoulder to pilot Blue like he’s used to doing. He pays no mind as he presses up against you, but you feel your heart rate increase at the closeness. 

He’s so close.

I have to be. You’re in my lap.

Shit. I didn’t think—

Clearly.

I can’t fucking believe you. I told you we weren’t going to do this.

You were dying!

Then you fucking let me!

You’re jostled around in his lap for a moment as he stops Blue from destroying any more of the training floor, and Touya wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady.

He gains control of her quickly, moving her toward the edge of the room. You tuck your face into his neck, not wanting to distract him and keeping your thoughts at bay so you don’t overwhelm him. He powers Blue down, severing the neural connection between the two of you, and shoves you from his lap and into the pilot’s chair like you’ve burned him. He storms out of the cockpit, climbing out of his machine and leaving you inside. You think about the argument you had within each other’s head, how Touya would have rather died than be linked to you like he is now. 

You slump against the seat, comforted by the metal cage you’ve been left inside of. 

[osierrasoulo]

Ok guys I have had a bit of a brain rot idea.

I have been playing Age of Calamity, and a thought came to mind and turned into this. Allow me to introduce my OC? linkeduniverse link, Calamity or Cal, for short. Here's some headcannons I had for him.

Royal show pony that the king likes to parade around as a symbol of their victory.

He must be perfect at all times

Can talk but perfers to sign as it is easier for him.👐

Only friends are the Champions and Zelda.

Pulled master sword at 17

5 years have past since the end of the war

22 years old

Has no life except to be at the kingdoms bec and call

Tired of his shackled life 😔

Highest ranked in the army

Is sometimes used as Hyrules hitman to get rid of any threat ☠️

Cold and collected

Mentally shuts down any emotions to do his job

Zelda is worried for him and try at every turn to get him out of the castle and away from her father.

Champions help and are worried for him as well.

All of them ( even Revali) try to get him to come to their domains to take a break.

Barely sleeps or can't sleep💤

Go to weapon is his royal broadsword

More headcannons to come... hope you like him! Let me know what you think!😄

Update!

The lovely @rae-nell wrote a fic about my boy! Please give them some love!

[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x fem!reader

before - part one

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

it’s summer in austin, and you and joel meet for the first time.

a/n: the joel miller brain rot is real and your advocate is here to help! masterlist will be up shortly, special thank yous and shout outs to @psychedelic-ink @allfoolsinluv and @gnollengrom for letting me scream about this fic in your dms 🤍 I have thought of little else for the last 48 hours

word count: 3.4k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI - this part is not explicit but other parts will be, masterlist has further warnings, but no real warnings for this part except a lot of fluff?? and banter?? and I’m obsessed kthanksbyeeeee

✨I no longer have a taglist - if you’d like to be notified of new works/chapters, follow @friskito-library and turn notifications on!✨

You meet Joel Miller long before the world implodes.

It’s 2001, you’re fresh out of college, relocated to Austin, Texas where your parents have taken over an old hardware store that once belonged to your grandfather. Nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for the time being, you spend most of your time in the store, stocking shelves and chatting with customers, learning the different things the store keeps on hand, what has to be shipped in special order. It’s not much, but it’s something to do; you’re just happy to be back with your family after four long years at college. Sure, you came home for holidays when you could, but it wasn’t the same.

It still isn’t the same, not really.

The house you live in is foreign to you, not the same roof you grew up under. The people are the same, your parents clearly happy to have you back, your little sister overjoyed to have someone in her corner again. Austin is nice, the weather warmer than you’re used to after four years in Michigan, but it’s a welcome change. Summer seems to go on forever, and your weekends are spent basking in the sun, finding new places to explore, wandering the shops that neighbour the hardware store and beyond.

And then one day, everything changes.

You’re stood at the end of one of the aisles, fixing a stubborn display of plaster tubs that won’t stay upright, when you hear the bells over the door chime, announcing the arrival of a customer. You don’t stray far from the display, calling out a good morning! and returning to your work. Your sister is perched behind the register, flipping through an old magazine, and you hear the tell-tale squeak of work boots on the linoleum, the sound now all too familiar to your ears.

The boots move in your direction, but you pay the sound little mind until it grows closer. Most people who come into the store know what they’re looking for, and your parents had been careful to keep everything in the same aisles and shelves they’d been on for the past decade, so as to not disrupt the regular customers. From the corner of your eye, scuffed, dark boots step a little closer, and your eyes drag over from the display, taking in the man before you.

You try really hard not to let your eyes linger everywhere, but it’s hard. He’s…well, he’s hot. Dark hair, dark eyes, patchy facial hair that really shouldn’t work as well as it does. Long legs covered in dark jeans, a t-shirt that’s definitely seen better days and is straining against his broad shoulders and thick arms. It’s a classic look you’ve come to associate with every guy who works construction in Austin, but right off the bat, you know there’s something different about this one.

“Hi there,” he says, his southern drawl not as intense as some other folks you’ve talked to, but still there, coupled with a little quirk to his lips, an almost-smile that makes you instantly desperate to see the full thing.

“Hi,” you breathe out, curling your fingers around the metal shelving in front of you, abandoning the plaster display.

“I’m lookin’ for a quarter-inch drill bit,” he spits, nearly stuttering the request out. You’re stuck still for a moment, absolutely enamoured by the man before you. And it makes your own lips twitch, the way his cheeks flare red and he drops his gaze after a moment, rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m also assuming you work here but I now realize you don’t have a name tag or anything so I’ll just—”

You clap a hand over your chest dramatically. “Shoot. Must have left the stupid thing in the back.” He lifts his head, eyes going wide, the almost-smile returning. “Follow me.”

He follows you like a little lost puppy a few aisles down from where you were standing. He’s taller than you, by nearly a head, those broad shoulders almost blocking out the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. You may or may not let your hips swing a little harder as you walk.

“Any specific brand you’re looking for?” you ask over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the pegboard that holds bits of all sorts of sizes. “Or just a quarter-inch?”

“As long as it fits in my drill,” he answers, and you turn to the board, scanning for the right size. You can feel his eyes lingering on you, and you’re basking in it. When you find the right one, you pluck it off the hook and hand it to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans after he takes it from you. “If it doesn’t fit, just bring it back and I’ll make sure you get the right one.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and he looks between you and the little package a few times, tapping it against the flat of his palm. His lips part, like he’s about to say something, but then your sister calls your name and your head snaps up.

“Come on up to the front when you’re ready,” you say, feeling a little bold and touching his arm as you step past him, “and I’ll cash you out.”

He watches you walk away, too.

“I need coffee,” your sister declares as soon as you’re within view of the front counter. “You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you reply, stepping behind the register, righting a cup of pens that’s fallen over. She slips down from the stool, flipping her magazine shut, and brushes past you, just as a now familiar deep voice reaches your ears.

“Thanks again,” tall, dark, and handsome says, approaching the counter with the drill bit and a tub of plaster from the display you’d been fixing in his hands. Your sister steps around him as he walks up, and turns to look at you over his shoulder, her jaw dropped, giving you two thumbs up. Your cheeks flare with heat, but you ignore it, taking the bit and the plaster when he sees them on the counter. “Are you new here?” he asks, and then rubs his hand up the back of his head, turning sheepish again. “Here being Austin, I mean. Haven’t seen you around before.”

You can’t help but grin back at him. “New-ish. Moved back at the beginning of the summer after I finished college. My parents took over this place after my grandfather died, and I can’t afford rent in the city, so here I am.” You ring up his purchase, tell him his total, and he fishes for his wallet, digging in the front pocket of his jeans. “For now, anyway.”

He presses his lips together as he pulls a twenty out of his wallet and hands it to you. “Maybe I’ll see you around again sometime.”

You punch in the right amount, letting the register drawer hit your hip as it shoots open. “Maybe you will.” You hand him his change, and as you press the bills and coins into his waiting hand, you offer your name with it.

“Joel,” he says by way of answer, and your chest puffs a little with the knowledge. “Miller. Joel Miller.”

Your grin widens. “Well, you have yourself a good day, Joel Miller. Hope I see you soon.”

He takes the bit and the plaster and takes a step backwards, walking directly into a display stand holding rolls of bright green and blue painters tape, sending it toppling to the floor. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he grumbles, and you step around the counter, dropping to your knees, catching the tape as it rolls in a million different directions.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him earnestly, righting the stand and getting back to your feet. “Now I have something to do.”

“You sure?” he asks, straightening, his cheeks burning red. “I’m sorry, again.”

“Don’t worry about it, again,” you laugh, gesturing towards the front door. “I’ll see you, Joel.”

“See you,” he replies, tacking your name onto the end, and you have to ignore the way the sound of your name on his lips sends a prickle up the back of your neck.

You watch as he walks out the door, the bell ringing again as he departs, getting into a pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days parked at the curb. He scrubs a hand over his face as he starts the engine, and then turns and looks at you through the glass, lifting a hand in a wave before he pulls away from the store. You lift your hand to return the farewell, and your sister walks through the door a moment later, two coffees in her hands, pushing one into your grip even though you said you didn’t want one. You sip it anyway.

“Who was that?” she asks, bumping her hip into yours.

“Joel Miller.”

+

He comes into the store nearly every day for a week. Always looking for something new, another drill bit or packages of nails and screws, a hammer, rolls of tape. He’s a carpenter, you learn, and goes bright red when you hint that must mean he’s good with his hands.

Your conversations are always brief, but sweet. He asks what you went to school for, admits he never got past a high school education, laughs when you tell him he seems to be doing pretty well for himself despite that. He shows up one morning with coffees for both you and your sister, and a box of doughnuts, earning a squeal from your sister and a bright thanks Joel from yourself. One afternoon, he’s in a hurry, having run out of drywall screws, cursing that he left his wallet at the job site, and you wave him off, all but pushing him out the door with a new box.

Then Monday rolls around, and you find yourself watching the door, waiting for the bell to signal his arrival. Every time the bell does ring, you jump, stepping out of whatever aisle you’re in, checking to see who’s walked inside. 

“I’m sure he’ll come by tomorrow,” your sister says when the clock hits two and there’s still no sign of him. “He’s probably just busy.”

“I know,” you say, brushing it off best you can.

The rest of the day passes like molasses, the minutes ticking by so slow you’re half sure the clock on the wall is broken. You even go so far as to check the batteries, earning a laugh from your sister. You curse yourself for flinching every time the door opens, doubly so when your father arrives to take over for the evening and you jump so hard you drop the stack of sandpaper boxes in your hands. “Sorry, honey,” he laughs, helping you pick up the boxes. “Long day?”

“Something like that,” you reply, putting the sandpaper on the right shelf before heading for the counter to grab your bag. “See you at home!”

Your father waves without looking, but calls your name before you can walk out the door. “Someone’s at the house, just so you know. Your mother’s home, of course, but I hired a guy to look at the back porch, asked him to fix the light in the hallway too.”

“Shouldn’t you be able to fix that yourself,” you joke with a smile, “since you own a hardware store and all?”

He just waves you off. “Get outta here.”

You laugh, pushing the door open, the bells jingling above your head as you step through. It’s just before dinner time, the sun starting to hang a little lower in the sky. The inside of your car feels like a sauna when you slide into the driver’s seat, and you blast the air conditioning, turning up the radio loud enough you can hear it over the noise. It’s a quick drive from the store to your house, and you’re too distracted by the song that’s playing on the radio to notice the rusty pick-up parked at the curb.

If it makes you happy, it can’t be that bad.

Your mother is sitting in the kitchen when you walk through the door, calling her hellos, and you dump your keys and bag before bee-lining for the bathroom. The house is all one level, one bathroom shared between the four of you, and you flick on the light, turn on the shower, strip down quickly. The warm water is a balm for the long day, the tension that had been sitting between your shoulders melting away beneath the spray.

You wrap yourself in a towel afterward, collecting your clothes from the floor before flicking the light off again. You’re still humming the song from the radio as you open the door, wiping a drop of water from your cheek and—

“Joel?”

“Shit!” he mumbles, dropping the screwdriver in his hand. He’s standing right outside the bathroom, balanced on a step-stool. Fixing the light; you remember what your father had said. You’re instantly flushed, starkly aware of the fact that you’re basically naked except for a towel, dripping water and your underwear is basically dangling from your hand. “I’m sor—fuck!” The stool wobbles and out of instinct, you grab for him, planting your hand on his stomach. He’s reaching over his head still, and the bottom of your hand meets bare skin, his t-shirt riding up slightly.

“You good?” you ask, pressing your lips together as he balances himself. You move your hand, carefully bending your knees and picking up the screwdriver from where it landed on the floor. “Here.”

“Thank you,” he says softly, taking it from you, jaw working as he chews the inside of his lip. His cheeks are as red as your whole body feels. “Sorry, I’m—”

“I should go!” you say quickly, and side-step him, bolting out of the bathroom doorway and straight into your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. Your clothes tumble to the ground as soon as you’re inside, clapping a hand over your mouth as the towel nearly slips off of you. “Oh my god.”

+

You open the store by yourself the next day, your sister claiming she has the flu, your father with a golf game he can’t miss, and your mother with ‘far too many things to do around the house’. You don’t mind it; it’s usually quiet in the mornings, with the exception of the week of Joel, where he’d shown up at nine o’clock nearly on the dot each day.

Once your father got home last night, you’d all but interrogated him. Turns out, Joel had stopped by the store late the night before, walking in just before closing, and he and your dad got to talking. When the subject of the creaky back porch and the broken hallway light came up, Joel had offered his services, and your father had accepted.

A minute after you’ve flipped the sign from closed to open and unlocked the door, a now-familiar pick-up truck pulls up to the parking spot outside the curb. You inhale sharply, nerves and embarrassment in your gut, and you turn away from the door, heading towards the counter, you back to the door as it jingles open.

Joel Miller calls your name. You nearly freeze, but continue your steps until you’re safely behind the counter. You hear his boots squeak on the floor as he approaches, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head until he’s standing right in front of you, saying your name again.

“Morning, Joel.”

“About yesterday,” he says instantly, a hand reached into the space between you, landing in a loose fist on the countertop. “I had no idea that you were—that it would—” He blows out a breath, ducking his head before meeting your eyes. “I’m sorry, is what I’m tryin’ to say.”

“Y’know, I usually make a man buy me dinner before he sees me half-naked,” you say, the line rolling off your tongue before you can stop yourself. Joel balks, and you clap a hand over your mouth, nervous giggles pouring out of you. “Oh my god, that was cheesy, I’m sorry. And it’s okay, for the record. I should have checked the hallway before I walked out.”

He laughs, you laugh, and the idea sparks in your mind. Your hands move of their own accord, reaching for a pen and a scrap of receipt paper. You scribble out your phone number, accompanied by a little smiley face after the last digit.

“Here,” you say, pushing the paper across the counter, nudging his hand with your own. “Why don’t you take this, and maybe we can see each other someplace besides the paint aisle or outside my bathroom.” When he doesn’t answer right away, that sick feeling of rejection crawls up your throat, and you nearly snatch the paper back. “Or we could just pretend it never happened.”

“Can’t do that,” he murmurs, and his voice is so low and inviting you can’t help but lean across the counter slightly. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall and he curses under his breath. “Shit, I’m gonna be late.” He grabs the paper, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket on his t-shirt. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply, nodding, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he touches his hand to yours, fingers glancing over your wrist before he pulls away. He steps backward again, eyes not leaving yours. Thankfully there’s no display in his path for him to topple over, but he only looks away when he reaches the door, that almost-smile you’ve been chasing since the first day you met spreading into a full-blown grin that sends butterflies shooting through your stomach. “Bye, Joel.”

“Bye,” he replies, your name a near-whisper afterward.

As soon as the door shuts, the tinkle of bells echoing, you slump across the counter with a squeal. The bells ding again a second later, and you shoot upright, schooling your face into a normal-looking smile and greeting the customer that’s just walked through the door.

+

It’s nearly ten o’clock that night, when your phone rings.

You’re lounging in bed, a book propped against your knees, Sheryl Crowe crooning out of your stereo. The robotic ring makes you jump, and you hit the answer button quickly, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” Joel says, and you smile, sinking deeper into the pillows. “Had a long day, and I almost didn’t call, but I really wanted to.”

“I’m glad you did,” you reply, letting the book fall shut on your lap. “What made your day so long?”

It’s easy conversation, the two of you chatting for a good hour. He talks about the job site he’s been working at, his brother that works with him, how his truck nearly broke down when he went to leave, making him late to get home. The call only comes to an end when you’re both making each other yawn, mumbling apologies every time.

“I should let you get some sleep,” Joel nearly whispers, his voice so soft through the phone you barely hear it. “Didn’t mean to keep you up so late.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” you quip, rolling onto your side, keeping the phone pressed to your ear. “But I like talking to you, just for the record.”

“I like talking to you, too,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Just for the record.”

“Are you making fun of me?” you ask, faking shock. He laughs.

“Nah, I just like the way you talk, darlin’,” he says, and the pet name makes you shiver. “I’ll let you go.”

“You didn’t ask,” you say quickly, and he pauses, dead air on the line for a moment.

“What?”

“I said you could make it up to me,” you tell him, rolling onto your back, glancing out the window at the moon, big and white in the dark sky. “That was your opening to ask me out.”

Another pause, and you’re holding your breath, chewing your lip.

“Have dinner with me on Friday?”

You hum, beaming into the phone. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Joel barks a laugh, the biggest one you’ve gotten out of him yet, and you smile harder. “You’re trouble.”

“You’re the one having dinner with me,” you shoot back, and he laughs again, softer this time. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You can tell he’s still smiling. “Goodnight.”

NEXT

[pabtsblueliving]

Never Changed

Another song-spo fic. Been feeling Knoxville heavy these past few days. Saw an edit by someone of tik tok of him during the Gumball Rally with this song…brain rot occurred. 

WC 1.2K

Warnings: angst, flirting, semi-established on and off relationship, smoking, drinking, making out, groping etc. 18+

Song: Change (In the House of Flies) by the Deftones

I tried my best making the reader as body neutral as possible, still working on improving!

pabtsblueliving © 2023

You and Knox had been on and off for years. 

It was cat and mouse for as long as you could remember. 

You were a well known model, walking for Versace, Gucci, and Mugler since 2004. You somehow got roped into the Jackass crew when you had went to the first premier of the movie which was a backyard BBQ with celebrities left and right, playboy models and hustler girls walking around everywhere you looked.

Youd shown up with friends, Knoxville stealing you to say hi right after youd grabbed a drink.

“Big fan” He smiled, god that smile

“Likewise” you spoke, shaking his hand.

I watched you change, into a fly

I looked away, you were on fire.

It was breaking up and making up, every few months. Youd fuck, youd fight, youd see him in the tabloids with a new blonde the next day. Then after your declaration of finally being “done with him”...He’d show up backstage of your latest runway show.

I watched a change in you, It's like you never had wings

Now, you feel so alive, I've watched you change

Bam Margera had invited your best friend to come to the bar the Jackass Crew and himself were at in New York City. You knew he would be there, and you told yourself no…don't feel into his ego…don't show him, he still had you wrapped around his finger.

“Come on, Y/N, seriously…for me? You know ive been into Bam lately…And you know all those guys anyways! Who cares if Johnny will be there” Your friend, Melissa, had a big grin, batting her lashes at you.

You looked at her and let your head fall back as you sighed, 

“Fine…Mel, alright I'll come. For. An. Hour” You pointed in her face, walking to your suitcase to pick out something to wear.

She landed a big kiss on your cheek, and you laughed. 

“Y/N, holy shit I love you, I will totally owe you a drink at the bar!” She gleaned, running to put her shoes on. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, fluffing your hair. You'd thrown on your outfit Finishing the look with your harness motorcycle boots, and that one final…accessory.

His belt

God, you'd stolen that belt from him two years ago and he hasn't asked about it back since. The jewelry around your neckline and wrists clanged together as you reached for it. 

It was black, some studs, and his old red Waylon Jennings belt buckle on it. You were wearing it, you had to. Mess with him a little, tease a little, maybe piss him off…who knows what wearing this belt would do to you. 

I took you home, Set you on the glass

I pulled off your wings, Then I laughed

You and Melissa walked into the dive bar in Brooklyn. You had looked around, spotting Wee-man hand standing on the bar while also funneling a beer. 

You and Melissa couldn't help but to groan while laughing, what the hell did we get ourselves into.

“Well, well, I knew you’d be here.” You hear a familiar, Pennsylvanian accent slur.

Melissa turned around, and smiled, giving him a hug. You still had no idea if he had said that to you, or his date who’d finally arrived.

Bam smiled and hugged Melissa, then looked up at you in their embrace, and spoke

“Yeah, I'm talking to you.” He laughed, and Melissa pulled away. “Good luck” He said, accent prominent, and pulling Melissa on his arm towards the other guys.

Melissa looked back and cringed, mouthing ‘Sorry’ as she continued to walk with Bam. A few minutes later, youre standing at the end of the bar, chin in your hand, waiting for your much needed gin and tonic. 

“...So that’s where my belt has been, huh.” You heard that voice, his voice, shit, compose yourself a bit, dont turn around yet.

You kept yourself facing the bartender, feeling Johnny’s looming figure just inches behind you.

“Yeah, well…” You turned around, straw in your lips.

“I always thought it looked better on me, no?” You tossed your hair over your shoulder, taking another sip.

I watched a change in you, It's like you never had wings

Now, you feel so alive, I've watched you change

He looked down at you, and tilted his sunglasses down.

“I take it back…you look quite lovely tonight, Rabbit.” He said softly, taking off his sunglasses fully.

That nickname, he's playing a dangerous game, but he's playing it just right

“Starting already, Knox?” You couldn't help but to smile, you two were like magnets whenever you were five feet within the same space together. 

“Whaaat, Y/N…you’re being mean tonight…are you breaking up with me?” He joked, smiling after his last few words. 

“Don’t you wanna catch up?” His arms slapped against his thighs, grabbing his beer from the bar and taking a sip.

“What to hear about the next blonde youre seeing?” You rolled your eyes, “Dont think im too interested, Knox. 

I look at the cross, then I look away

“Hey…come on now, that's over with…” He stepped closer, you're now trapped between him and the bar. “Come have a smoke with me…” He grinned, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. 

I'm in for it, and now I'm crossing a path that's near impossible to turn around on.

He lit your stick, then his. You had your back against the brick wall, him leaning on the wall on his side, on arm holding him up above his head. 

You both took a drag, making eye contact, not breaking with the other. He exhaled his smoke, stepping closer, his hand with the cigarette stroking the side of your face, thumb going over your lip. 

“I always forget how gorgeous you are, rabbit…” he pulled up your chin as you took another drag

“How do we,” You exhaled the smoke, “always end up like this, huh, John?” 

Your mind was fuzzy, you had a buzz, desire.

“Maybe this is just…meant to be.” He took your cigarette and put it out, grabbing your waist and pulling you in for a smoldering kiss.

You gasped, usually you're able to fend him off for at least another hour. But, the inevitable is going to happen. 

You pulled him in by his belt buckle, whining into the kiss. The feeling of his tongue shooting straight to your core. He tasted like beer and cigarettes, your favorite. 

Give you the gun Blow me away

I watched a change in you It's like you never had wings

His right hand sneaked down, and grabbed a handful of your ass slowly, and he groaned. You took this opportunity to stick your tongue between his lips and grab a handful of his hair.

“PJ” You whined…taking a breath

“Baby, come on, baby, if you call me that you know this will be a long night…” He grabbed you by the chin.

You held his belt buckle, teasing the trail of hair leading down under his dickies.

“So let be long, Knox…” You smiled.

[heavenhealy]

genre: smut w a side of angst, afab!reader, boyfriends best friend!au

word count: 4.3k

summary: it’s wrong, you both know it, but how are you supposed to resist the pull of his hands, the ticklish strands of his hair on your neck, the whispered promises to fuck you better than his best friend can?

warnings: infidelity, alcohol consumption, swearing, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), degradation and praise, allusions to pain kink, spit, matty is a tease, marking, coming inside, slight overstimulation, dom!matty x sub!reader, public play (teasing but no sex), hair pulling, lemme know if I missed anything 

a/n: hiiiii, this is my first matty fic but def not my first fic, so I hope y'all like it! I have been harboring so much brain rot for him lately so I just wanted to share it with a likeminded audience. I purposely left readers boyfriend unnamed bc I honestly couldn’t be bothered, considering hes not thatttt important, but y'all are free to think of him as anyone. That being said, please do not go below the cut if you are 1) under 18 or 2) uncomfortable with the content. This is your final warning :)

ps. I didn’t edit or proofread so there may be typos!

The greasy bowl of popcorn has long been empty, but only now as the credits roll are you able to slip out from the weight of your boyfriends’ dozing frame to return it to the kitchen. You dump the bowl in the sink where it clatters against the rest of your unwashed dishes and you sigh. The last thing you want to do right now is wash dishes, but you turn the tap to warm and squat down to find the drying rack under the sink. 

Footsteps creak the wooden floor behind you, accompanied by a wave of cigarette scented air. Matty. Goosebumps rise along the back of your neck as you rise. Your heart hammers at an alarming rate and you try your best to act exceedingly normal even as he approaches you. Just as you drip some dish soap into the filling sink, his hands settle on your hips. You can feel the warmth of his palms and the calloused fingertips through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you've probably had since your freshman year of college. The tap continues to run, gushing water loudly into the sink basin. Despite the steam rising from the hot water you shiver as he presses his lean body into your back. A traitorous hand sneaks up to clear your hair away from the nape of your neck and your mind whirs to remember the last time you had felt quite so electric. A dark, bouncy curl strays across your ear so quickly you almost think you’re imagining it. 

“Lame ass boyfriend you’ve got out there, love.” His voice is silky, tinged with a hint of sleepiness that somehow only makes him more attractive. You can picture the way his mouth curves into a self satisfied smile as you automatically nod. It feels bad to admit, but you truly had been bored by your boyfriend lately. The spark between you had died long ago but you were simply afraid to admit it. 

But Matty certainly wasn’t. “Not even a quarter past 10 and he’s already asleep.” His breath ghosts into your ear, a whisper meant just for you even though you knew no one would catch you. The thrill makes you needy, keening against his body as he reaches around to turn off the tap. A sudden, deafening silence rushes in, and the apartment is so still you’re afraid that time has actually stopped. 

“He had a long day,” you amend as Matty’s teeth catch the shell of your ear, tugging playfully.

“Jesus, love. I had a long day too, and I’d still stay up all night if you asked me to.” You blush and resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together at his words. “Such a pretty thing shouldn’t have to go to waste.” Your head lolls against his shoulder and he knows he has you. His aura intoxicates you and you can’t help but think of all the time he existed in your peripherals: first as the eccentric best friend of the guy you just started talking to, then your boyfriend’s best friend and roommate, and then after one night where your boyfriend was away, your dirtiest little secret. 

A well-worked hand cups your breast through your shirt. Your nipple pebbles immediately at his touch and he laughs the snarky little laugh you would usually roll your eyes at. He knows, you both know, he could reach underneath the shirt and easily have his way with you, pinning you against his frame as his cock hardens and tweaking your nipples until you’re wailing. 

You allow your brain to run away with the fantasy; your boyfriend waking up to the sounds of your pleasure, dazed and confused until he stumbles into the kitchen to see Matty licking between your thighs like a man starved. 

But Matty likes the game. He takes a sick pleasure in the cat and mouse, in teasing you while you could get caught. He loves the deep blush that overtakes your face when he sends you a risky text or makes a point to clench his jaw when you catch his eye. 

He loves that whenever the three of you hang out, you often excuse yourself to the bathroom and send him photo evidence of the mess of slick he caused in your underwear. 

He rolls his hips against you, sure to press his cock firmly into the flesh of your ass. The counter underneath your fingers is your saving grace as he builds a torturous rhythm, nipping and pulling at your ear in a way that has no right to be so sexy. Every time a piece of his hair brushes against your neck you feel as if you’ve gone insane; like someone has attached all of your neurons to a jumper cable. A heady moan escapes your mouth before you can stop it, and Matty rewards you with an indulgent groan of his own. The push of his hips is intoxicating, and the persistent arousal gathering in your lower stomach makes you dizzy. With your eyes closed and his mouth at your neck, it’s easy to pretend that this is simply your life; that Matty is the one you met first, the boyfriend you share a bed and a history with, and that this little kitchen tryst is a sexy story you’ll remember when you miss him and not under struck with guilt. 

“Y/N?” It’s far away, the call of your name, but it distinctly belongs to your boyfriend. Ice fills your veins and you still, overly aware of the tight grip Matty keeps on you even as you try to wiggle away from him and reply. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re happy he doesn’t relinquish you so easily. 

“Y-yeah?” You call back, hoping your boyfriend chalks the shake in your voice up to anything other than his best friend’s hips grinding slowly against you. The couch creaks tellingly as he gets up, and your throat closes up in fear. You can hear his slow descent toward the kitchen, his sleepy shuffle giving Matty ample time to play around with you, and he does just that. His hand drops from your breast and his hips still, but his mouth stays sinfully close to your ear. 

“Good night, love. Come find me if you need someone to fuck you better.” Before your mind can even fully wrap around his statement he disappears, presumably to his bedroom. The absence of his body leaves you cold and frustrated, but the presence of your boyfriend forces you to pretend you’re okay. 

He looks rumpled and sleepy when he finds you in the kitchen, frowning at the time on the stove and the sink full of bubbles. 

“C’mon, dishes can wait until the morning.” He gives you an easy smile, one that would have made you giddy to kiss him a few months ago. Now you just nod and skirt away from his approaching figure, acutely aware of the fact that you would smell just like Matty if he got too close. 

“Go-go lay down, I need to use the bathroom first!” The excuse sounds lame even to your own ears, but he doesn't seem to have the energy to argue as he slips down the hallway, leaving you to purge the evidence before crawling into bed.

----

The restaurant was way fancier than you were expecting it to be, and even though you had pulled on a mid-length sleek black dress with pearled straps you felt out of place. The open planned room was bustling with diners and servers; but most of the noise comes from the exposed kitchen. You can see the slew of chefs as they work and the clashing of pots and pans makes it almost impossible to hear your boyfriend. Or Matty.

He wasn’t supposed to come, to be honest. The night was meant to be a celebration for just you and your boyfriend, who had recently wrapped up a project for a huge client. It’d been a long time since the two of you went to a fancy restaurant, and you had honestly been excited to get dressed up and spend the night with him. When you showed up to his apartment, you were stunned to see Matty, sprawled across the couch in his infinite glory, wearing a fancy black suit. 

“W-what?” You stuttered at the way his eyes pierced you, his hand resting casually on his stomach. 

“’M coming with you guys. Can’t let my best mate go on a celebratory dinner without me paying for some drinks, can I?” He flashes you a dazzling smile that disarms you just enough you can’t find it in you to be upset. 

So now you’re a party of three at the bustling restaurant, and Matty has already ordered a fancy bottle of wine for the table. You hate to admit just how much of your attention he’s stolen already, sitting so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off of his thigh onto your own. Despite the interesting calamity of the kitchen and the murmurs of slightly-shouted conversations, all you can focus on is the curve of Matty’s lips, the way his eyes shimmer in the low-light. Your boyfriend seems more than happy to idly enjoy the scenery, pointing out the chefs and their specific techniques to you despite your waning interest. The wine goes down easy, and you pour yourself a second glass as Matty starts another inane conversation about whatever dish is getting pumped out of the open kitchen. 

The fuzzy feeling from the alcohol is welcoming, enveloping you in a warmth that helps distract you from the press of Matty’s thigh against your own. You smile gratefully at the waiter who brings you a pasta dish and dig in, thankful for the distraction. You’re careful not to move an inch, so you know it’s Matty who’s pushing further into your side, and you’re sure that the night is going sideways when you feel his pinky finger trace along the top of your thigh. You swallow hard, trying your best not to shudder at his touch. His wastes no time in grasping the meat of your thigh under his palm, squeezing just enough that a spark of pain morphs to pleasure. 

“Matty.” You hope there’s venom in your voice as you warn him against his fingers creeping closer to the inside of your thigh. He just smiles in your peripheral before taking a bite of his own food, disguising the movement of his hand underneath the table skillfully. Arousal runs through you, and you feel your panties soak as a long finger skims across the material. Under anyone but Matty’s touch you would be embarrassed at how fast you became a wreck, but the easy pleasure of his fingers dancing over your clit sends you into happy bliss. 

Matty’s fingers slow and simply press against you, building an internal pleasure that burns into your stomach. You let out a heavy breath and drain your glass of wine in one gulp. Matty laughs, and your boyfriend raises an eyebrow at your behavior. “Maybe you should pour her some more? Don’ let it go to waste.” Matty nods toward the bottle inches from your boyfriends plate. You see him hesitate, but he relents and grasps it, leaning forward to pour you a new glass. There’s a moment of anxiety as his point of view shifts and Matty makes no attempt to move his hand away from your center. In fact, his fingers stir back to life as soon as your boyfriend leans slightly forward to pour you a new glass. Matty slips his fingers under your panties as soon as your boyfriend is back in his seat. His fingers slip against your bare pussy and you close your thighs around his hand. 

“T-thanks,” you stutter, avoiding picking up the glass as a tremor wracks you. Matty takes another casual bite of his pasta and puts on his best confused face. His eyebrows furrow as he fakes a concerned look over you. 

“You aren’t gonna have any? Thought you liked it?” A dexterous finger circles your clit mind numbingly slowly. You glare at him and take another drink. Now that you’re well on the way to being drunk, every single sensation is heightened. A dark pit of arousal is consuming you and the desire to sink your teeth into the flesh of his neck is overwhelming despite the company. Desire makes you bold as you bat your eyes at Matty, biting into the flesh of your lip. 

“I love it.” You cant your hips forward into his hand, sure to emphasize just how wet he had gotten you. It’s debauched, and guilt begins to creep up the back of your neck, but Matty growls under his breath and pushes a finger inside of your walls and it melts away. 

Your boyfriend is blissfully unaware of the mess between your legs all night. He asks no questions about the way your face flushes (easily excused by the wine), the way Matty only eats his courses with one hand (he’s always doing some new eccentric shit), or the way neither of you are able to carry on a conversation for more than a few seconds (the restaurant is quite loud). 

----

The weather is ridiculously hot, and of course it’s the one day of the year you decide to clean and rearrange your apartment. To be fair, you had begun the process of emptying out old clothes and housewares at the beginning of the week, and you had skillfully ignored moving your big pieces of furniture up until today. Your apartment is hot despite the fans you’ve pulled out of storage, and the heavy wooden bed frame you had insisted on buying will not budge. No matter how hard you pushed or pulled on the frame, it stays stubbornly in place. So you call your boyfriend. 

And he can’t come, called into work on account of a picky client who demanded someone fix his renderings today. But Matty is miraculously free; and he’s on his way as soon as you text him. 

And of course, he looks sinful. A plain white t-shirt with a scoop neck affords a wonderful view of his collarbones and sun kissed skin. The urge to pull his stupid smirk into a kiss overtakes you, so for once you listen to the yearning and pull him against you. Matty breathes a chuckle against your lips before indulging you. His tongue slips easily into your mouth and you relish in pressing against the hard planes of his body. His chest rumbles in appreciation when he takes a handful of your ass, fingers hooking down dangerously close to your pussy. You feel alight, floating inside of an undefinable cloud of pleasure as he consumes you. 

You relish in the way his chest heaves with exertion once you part. “Need help moving a bed?” He wipes at his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “Sounds like a shitty chat up line to me.” 

A frustrated groan passes your lips, and you ignore the bait he’s clearly dangling in front of you in favor of soaking up air from a fan. Between the heat of the day and the fire of arousal in your stomach, it’s needed. 

“Very funny. Now can you please help me?” You don’t wait for his answer as you walk to your bedroom. His socked footsteps quickly follow your own, and in seconds you’re both standing at the foot of your bed. It’s oddly domestic, with the rumpled blankets gathered at the foot and the delicate floral sheets you  got on a discount. 

“Cute,” Matty comments as he plops himself fully onto the bed, legs sprawled wide and inviting. You try to ignore the bulge tenting his sweatpants and put on a brave face. 

“I need you to help me move it, not lay on it.” You whine, reluctantly shuffling within his reach. Matty catches you easily around the waist and it takes no time for you to collapse into his embrace. He nuzzles into your neck and it’s startling how nicely he fits around you. 

Never one to delay, Matty licks a line of heat down your neck and you lose the last bit of your control. “You smell so good.” The simple sentiment sends liquid heat to your pussy. A sharp nip to your neck makes you squirm and you know that you’ll have a hickey to conceal in the morning. 

His breath puffs against your neck, and you have the urge to turn and face him, tired of looking at the wall instead of his face. As your hips shift he groans, pressing his hips forward until you can feel the twitch of his cock against you. 

“Something you need?” You know the innocent game drives him crazy but you use it anyway and he stalls, assessing the situation with that astonishing wit. The sharp tug of your hair brings you into a place of happy submission. Matty wraps the tendrils between his fingers and makes sure you aren’t going anywhere before cocking your head until you’re stuck staring at him. The chocolate brown of his eyes is nearly eaten up by lust. This close, you can smell the intoxicating mix of his woody cologne and the beginnings of sweat.

“Please,” the word leaves you before you can even guess at what you’re asking for. Luckily Matty has learned to read your body like his favorite guitar. A delicate, fluttering kiss to your nose is just enough to disarm you as he uses the corded strength of his arms to guide you down his chest until you’re faced with the tantalizing push of his cock against his sweatpants. His fingers untangle from your hair but don’t leave, just allowing you the room to work. Something clicks in your mind and the only thing you care about is getting him off- feeling the familiar weight of his cock in your mouth, or the way his fingernails leave untraceable evidence of your tryst on your scalp.

You’re only half surprised to find he has no underwear on but it only makes your job easier. As soon as your tongue makes contact with his cock he’s moaning, guiding your hair into a ponytail at the back of your head and controlling your pace. Spit leaks from the corners of your lips as you finally engulf the head of his cock, but the mess only sends both of you further into oblivion. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at taking my cock.” His voice drips with arousal and you squirm, bucking your hips against the bed as you continue to swallow him down. Matty head no problem taking the lead, pushing you down until your throat spasms. Eyes fluttering, you try your best to make eye contact with Matty as you wiggle your tongue along the throbbing vein. 

“Pretty girl.” His Adam’s apple bobs, and the melodic noises that spill from his lips only spur you on. 

As his hips twitch and his grip loosens you take it upon yourself to change the pace on him, intent on making him cum. His head tips back into your pillows and his cock twitches violently, the delicious cue to the end goal you’re always going for. 

“C’mon, off now,” Matty tugs at the roots of your hair, erupting pleasure that makes you moan around him listlessly. “Fuck, seriously, baby, ‘m not coming in your mouth.” With surprising restraint he pulls your head away and angles his hips out of your reach. Empty, your eyes water as you pout. Spit decorates your chin and Matty’s eyes glaze over before he wipes it away with his thumb. 

“You dirty little thing. Asked you to stop and you kept on like you couldn’t even hear me.” A telltale current of amusement intertwines with the chastising, and curls of arousal have you nodding stupidly. 

“Cock drunk.” He tuts and shucks his shirt over his head. A shit eating grin splits his face as you remove your own, shucking off your bra shortly after without any preamble. Matty makes an appreciative noise at the sight of your tits and surges forward to push you down against the bed. 

He’s on them near immediately, indulging in the newly revealed flesh. His tongue laves over one nipple as he pulls at the other with deft fingers. Your back bends as his teeth scrape across the mounds of flesh. 

“D-don’t leave a mark,” the idea of your boyfriend seeing the marks he surely didn't leave sends your mind reeling, but Matty just laughs evilly. 

“You seriously think he’s gonna be seein’ these tits?” His gaze hardens at the edges and you’re momentarily stunned. You know he’s right, and you hate how much arousal gushes out of you because of it. “Cause who do you belong to?” He’s challenging you now- he knows that you’re on the same page about the truth of your relationship. 

“Y-you, Matty.” 

He rewards you with a blossoming hickey at the swell of your breast which he instantly soothes with the flat of his tongue. In a rush he works your shorts and underwear off of you, exposing the heat of your pussy to the room. Wetness sticks to your thighs and you’re desperate to have him inside you finally. Matty settles over your lower stomach, tracing his fingers delicately across the skin there as your hips jump wildly. 

“Matty, please just fuck me, I can’t wait-” your words trail into a heady moan as he swipes two fingers down your slit, collecting your wetness with a happy hum. Your mind blanks at the touch that almost fills the empty feeling in your stomach, but you know his cock is the only thing that will satisfy you. 

He curls the fingers across your clit until tears spring into your eyes, and then he sticks them in his mouth. The lewd sound makes you blush, and the sight of his eyes rolling back in satisfaction is one you want to bottle and keep forever. His eyebrows knit together at your taste, and you feel like you might combust. 

“Matty!” You grasp his forearm and use all your remaining strength to pull him back towards you. “Please, please just fuck me already. Seriously, wanna feel you.” You push your bare hips into his own and a dangerous glint lights his eyes.  “Oh, love.” You know he’s relenting when you feel him steady his hand on the base of his cock and slide the head over your clit slowly.��“You know how many nights I’ve heard you fuck him?” You shake your head dumbly even though you and your boyfriend had certainly been the butt of jokes the morning after, back when the relationship was new and exciting for you both. Matty’s hips flex forward and he pushes into you slowly. The stretch is pure pleasure, and your nerves set on fire at the intrusion.

“All those times,” his voice shakes as he presses into you, a stray curl ghosting over your forehead. “...you never begged him as hard as you beg for me. Tha’s how I know you really want it. Want me.” Before you know it he’s filling you and huffing praise into your ear. Your whole body shifts as he sets his pace and your nails run over his shoulders, surely leaving reddened marks in their wake. 

“Yeah, wan’ you.” Pleasant fuzziness engulfs your body, the ebb and flow of his hips sending you to a plane of pleasure only Matty can take you to. Two deft fingers swirl around your clit harshly. Your bodies slick with sweat and glide together intoxicatingly, and if human limitations didn't exist, you would stay like this forever; your bodies existing in a perfect tandem. 

“So fuckin’ hot, sweetest little pussy I’ve ever had.” Matty’s rambling makes you dizzy as your orgasm approaches rapidly. You don’t even have to warn him that you’re on the edge for him to know, increasing the movement of his fingers until your vision is spotting with black. Your walls clench tightly around him as you finally come, clawing at the plane of his back and chanting his name.

Matty comes shortly after, the warmth of his release filling your deepest, darkest desire. It’s sickly satisfying to feel his cock twitch and empty inside of you, to hear the deep moans that spill from Matty’s kiss bitten lips as he fills you to the brim. 

Still connected, Matty collapses to the side of you, capturing you in a sweet lilting kiss that nearly makes you dizzier than the orgasm. Your tongue burns with a sentence you know you aren’t allowed to say. Matty’s face morphs as he sees you choke on the words, and he smooths down your mussed hair with a heavy hand. 

“Okay?” He asks, a gentle check-in. 

“Yeah,” your voice is hoarse so you clear your throat and try again. “Yeah, it's just that...we still have to move this stupid bed.” 

As if his brain was on a delay from the sexual exertion, it takes a few seconds before his award winning laugh wracks his body. The bed shudders under him, and you can't help but laugh along with him, dumbstruck with love. You swallow the words again and pat his cheek lovingly. 

“Right, Matthew. Let’s get going. Believe it or not, I didn’t text you just to get you into my bed.” He pouts cutely and sighs with dramatic flair as you untangle yourself from him. 

“If we move the bed, can we...?” His teeth shine as he smiles at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think the glimmer in his eyes reflects something like the words you refuse to say. 

[neverchecking]

I have a brain rot for sage, hes challenging the chain for their time with player/reader, he basically wants all His/Her/Them's attention, of course none of the chain and sage are going to "play" fair their going to cheat no matter what. the only ones he might not win against is time, FD and maybe twilight. wind, four, Hyrule, and sky would do sad puppy eyes to get cuddle time, twilight and legend turn into their animal form to get pettings, sage and wild would cook food to get points for being delicious. (etc.etc.) just some yandere shenanigans for attention. the challenges he did were sword fighting, bow and arrow targeting, sparing, arm wrestling, and so forth.

-Eevee

Okay, last one for the night! I figured since this isn't really a request, I could spitball some more of my headcanons for our beloved Sage.

Jk it delted itself so I gave up and went to bed bc last time I tried to push through I wasn't happy with the end product, so sorry for the delay!

For those of you who don't know, Sage is another name for the Tears of the Kingdom Link--dubbed Hero of the Zonai-- should we decide he is not in fact Wild.

For the Wild and Facesitting request, it's in progress I promise! I try to go in order with my requests, but like I said, this is more headcanons versus a scenario. It should be out tomorrow later today so look out for that ;)

ANYWAY-

Y'all. The amount of Sage requests in my inbox right now? You guys are feral for this man and I love it. So I'm here to feed you guys.

TotK spoilers below!

・❥・Okay, so lemme start this off by saying. I have done you all wrong. And for that I apologize.

・❥・Because our wonderful @wayfayrr has opened my eyes to new possibilities that I would've never even thought of. So everyone say thank you rn >:(

・❥・So let's make some amendments!

・❥・First off, let's talk about nicknames. I love the idea that Reader, and only Reader, can call him anything other than Sage. And calling him other herb-related nicknames? Kills me. He is a flushing red mess the first time it happens. You had deemed him worthy of a nickname? You considered him person enough to have a moniker that wasn't also a title? If he was down bad before, it's so much worse now. Because you see him as a person. He's sure the others just see him as a means to the end. The second one of them, maybe save Wind, try it, he's shooting them daggers and snarling at them for even daring to try and impeach your privilege. (I also love the Calm, Wild and Feral thing, I thought that was so freaking clever.)

・❥・And you know how each of the hero's have their own 'sword' right? Well, what if Sage's was the Master Sword Remastered? Like Sky's (Like most of their Master Swords actually) but now it's been boosted by ten thousand years worth of direct light magic. (Does the Zonai time fall before Skyward Sword or after? I have no idea where they fall on the timeline tbh.). Just a thought. It could also be a gloom sword which probably wouldn't effect him as hard in other timelines because there's no demon king to power it, but it probably does hurt the others if they try to touch it.

・❥・Now, the juicy part. Let's retouch on Wild's and Sage's relationship. I originally said that Sage was okay with him? I lied. Wayfayrr has opened my eyes.

・❥・Sage probably can't fucking stand Wild. As they said, this is a version of him that didn't have this second adventure. Got to rest and distant himself from the Hero Title. And that just pisses him off. Why did he get the shittier hand? Why did he have to do it all over again? Why when this failure got to get off easy? Why couldn't he have the same grace, huh? What made them so different?

・❥・And if we're using the past oneshot (Here!) as they're 'canon' meeting, this filth let you get hurt. You were hurt before meeting him, which means that they can't be trusted with you. Especially Wild. So Sage cannot stand you being near Wild. At all. It eats at him and he doesn't last long before splitting the two of you up.

・❥・Calamity is even worse. There is probably an active hate towards Calamity (In this Yandere world, in a normal, not toxic world? They probably work out their differences a little better). This was a version of him who didn't even have to die to complete his quest. And this just shows that Fraud has favorites and it's not him.

・❥・You know who else he probably doesn't like? Twilight. Now, hear me out. This is purely me just spitting this out, but Sage has to be aware. He listens when they don't think he does, he's awake when they think he's not, he's watching when they don't even know he's there.

・❥・So he probably picks up on all of their little secrets. Meaning he knows Twilight is Wolfie. And (I think this is Canon is LU but I'm not sure) Wild had Wolfie as a guide. Which means Sage had Wolfie as a guide. The difference? When he needed him the second time, left stumbling around like a newborn fawn crawling out of the shrine all over again, he was left alone. He was fighting robots with a fucking Stick. He fused a mushroom to a shield just to buy himself more time. At one point, he was fusing a long stick to another long stick just to fight from a distance to save his battered body. Rauru did as much as he could, but there were some times he wished he was left for dead.

・❥・Not anymore as that means he would've never met you, but then? different story.

・❥・They also brought up that Sage probably doesn't stop at just cooking your food and I agree. When on the road, he for sure goes straight to the source. If he doesn't know exactly where it came from, it's not going anywhere near his Goddess. Nope. Not a chance in the gloomy depths from hell.

・❥・He's going to farmers themselves rather than merchants for produce, hunting any protein himself, climbing trees for eggs, he probably even makes his own butter. Now, because he's also cooking savy this for sure makes the rivalry between him and Wild widen. Wild is set in his cook for the chain, not you. Sage can't trust them to not hurt you again. Whose to say they don't over spice the food? Or undercook the fish? Or drop shells into the egg?

・❥・He can't trust them and may force you to pick one of the other. Depending on who you chose, he'll either hold his victory up high or work even harder to separate you from the chain. Can't you see, Reader? They aren't good for you.

・❥・When it comes to the Gloom, he for sure uses to his advantage. You know he's been infected, but you don't know how much light he's gathered to dispel it. At this point, he's probably gotten most, if not all of it, out, but you don't know that. And he preys on that fact.

・❥・Oh, the Traveler wants to down to the river with you? But, Reader, there's something rotten in his chest and he's stumbling against trees, exaggerating his steady steps just in case to really sell it. He needs you by his side, can't you see?

・❥・Oh, the captain is trying to get you to settle with him for the night? But, Reader, he's tossing and turning, feigning sleep and acting just enough to catch your attention. He's listening, ears pricked, just to hear you swiftly apologize before your gently hands are laying on his shoulders and he's won again.

・❥・And because his Hyrule is one of, if not the most dangerous Hyrules, he's given so much ammo to keep you tethered to him. You can't trust anyone, don't you know? The Yiga uptake has skyrocketed and they are everywhere, along with Ganon's new ability to make puppets? Can't you see how you can't trust any of them?

・❥・He even entertains you when you come up with the idea to have a secret saying between just the two of you as a fail safe. (It's probably something like 'Deforestation Enthusiast' because of how the two of you met.) Anything to have you pulling further away from the Chain and into his arms.

・❥・If it begins to take longer than expected, Sage is not above letting you wander just enough in his Hyrule. Maybe you set off a bit of Gloom hands (Or maybe he nudges them in your direction, hard to tell, really) and they go charging at you. The others don't know how to deal with them, but he does. He saves your life before the others even know what hit them. He's cooing into your ear, reassuring that where the others fail, he would never dream of it. He's whispering that he knows how scary the feeling of those hands are. He knows how freezing the feeling of sudden restriction, only accompanied by the burning sizzle of malice, is. He knows and he understands, but he's right here. He'd never let anything happen to you. Not like the other frauds.

・❥・Now, all that being said, Sage for sure does not play fair. Oh no. He does challenge them in his own ways, but does it in a way that can only reflect badly on them should they call him out on it.

・❥・He's fighting (Picking apart) with Wars and Calamity on their sparring routines, angling it in just a way that should they snap back he can turn on the innocent little look with a 'But I'm just trying to protect you. I don't know how any of you fight, I'm still learning.' Just in time for you to catch them barking at him to 'Learn faster' and it just falls perfectly into place.

・❥・He's calling out Twi and Four every time they try to wander off (Probably to bring out Wolfie or split to relieve a headache of sorts) because 'The woods are dangerous, what are they doing going off alone?' and now they can't leave because all eyes are on them and he's restricting their movement without even really trying. They wanna go foraging? But he and ...Wild were their best foragers and they were busy with dinner (That was something bitter to get out).

・❥・And wow, Time, Legend and Fierce have so many secrets, can you really trust them? Sage has laid down his entire adventure to you, and regardless if Reader is a LoZ player and knows of them regardless, Sage told you. Those two are trying to hide from you. He would never.

・❥・Wind, Hyrule and that filthy disgrace want to drag you along to go Shield surfing? Reader, do you know how dangerous that is? Especially with someone's track record. Here, you wanna go riding on this motorized wagon he just happens to have on hand? (Between the Zonite in his Purah pad, he can build any component necessary.)

・❥・Not even Sky and First are safe as he uses carefully laid words to sully their once golden image towards you. Afterall, they're so close to Hylia, whose to say they aren't behind all of this?

・❥・Now, you said that the only ones he may not win against are Time, Fierce and Twilight, but like I said, I can imagine him loathing Twilight, so instead, may I suggest First.

・❥・Time and Fierce are both pretty burly dudes that demand some semblance of respect and while Sage has muscles, he's not overly tall. So while he doesn't bow, he may just back off from their forefront for a while.

・❥・Now, First. He's probably the only one who can put Sage back in his place of the hierarchy. It's the first in the timeline, versus the last (As of right now). And it's not pretty. They probably go to blows a few times when you're out of ear shot.

・❥・The problem is that First can only push him back when you're out of ear shot and Sage makes it a point to keep you as close as humanly possible.

・❥・And while yes, some of them may use puppy eyes, Sage is not above using pity to get what he wants because he just hurts so badly don't you know?

・❥・He unfortunately can't do anything about wolves or rabbits. If they manage to disappear before he can call them out on it, he's left bitterly sulking as Wolfie laps at your cheeks or dumb rabbits nose at your hand. He may know who they are, but not even he's cruel enough to call them out (Yet) because that would just pit you against him. They weren't his secrets to tell, you would scold, and he just couldn't handle that possibility.

・❥・The biggest difference between Sage and Wild, one that the chain will fail to realize right away, is that Sage is much more experienced. He is on his second, THIRD if you count the pre-calamity, adventure. He knows everything Wild does, and more. Wild knows how to improvise and adapt, Sage can do it faster. Wild knows how to forage and concoct incredibly potent elixirs? Sage can do it tenfold with half the ingredients. He knows all the little tips and tricks and is not only backed up by the champion's gifts-- should they have remained-- but now he has the sages with him.

・❥・Like imagine their mid-battle, they had forced you away from Sage just to create some distance (At long last) and mans comes rolling in a giant fucking robot. He's using Sidon's sage to shield you over and over again and decimating a battle field using nothing but Riju and an arrow. Hell, the bigger enemies are struck down by Yunobo crashing into them. Sage alone is enough to cut the enemy hordes in half through recall and sending their own attacks back at them or fusing together weapons they wouldn't have ever dreamed of with new abilities. Even his outfits give him benefits far beyond anything they could think.

・❥・You saw him as someone more than just Link. He wasn't just the Swordsman to you when that was who he was to everyone else. You dubbed him something far beyond what a damned sword made him.

・❥・And he would have to be four days dead before letting you go.

・❥・And as he's proven before, Not even death could truly kill him.

I am so glad I waited bc I like this one so much more than the one that was deleted.

[dcrkfics]

Saved by your stepdad

summary: Your stepfather saves you from going to prision but at what cost? 

warnings: smut, non con intercourse, stepdad trope, penetration, choking, infidelity, begging, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

a/n : I absolutely love fast and the furious and especially Brian so Imma start writing him more

word count | 1.3k

pairings | Step Father!Brian O Conner x stepdaughter!Reader.

“I can explain!” You yelled as your moms husband practically dragged you through the door.

“I literally caught you helping your boyfriend flush tons of cocaine down the toilet in your apartment. There isn’t any reasonable explanation for that.” Brian slammed the door. You stepped towards the living room. “Did you also help him murder that guy too?” He asked. “No Brian listen Mark is innocent I am innocent. Mark told me he was forced to carry the drugs with him he didn’t want to!” You explained. “You know that piece of shit was lying to you. Its what hes been doing for the past two years!” Brian yelled.

“Your lucky I was the one who walked in. The one who saw you because if I didn’t you’d be rotting away in a prison cell by now.” Brian exclaimed as he walked towards you. “I'm sorry” you mumbled.

Brian sighed and took off his jacket. Still contemplating what he was gonna do about you. “So what's gonna happen to Mark is he going…” “You're still thinking about that stupid boy after everything he did to you?” Brian asked. “Well…” “Don't even answer that” Brian yelled. You jumped when he yelled all the emotions you experienced tonight we're making you jittery and seeing Brian mad at you made you even more nervous.

Brian barely married your mother last year. You decided to move out with your boyfriend because you didn’t want to be a burden to your mom and her husband. Brain has always been respectful and kind towards you. Always welcoming you. You never saw him this angry then again you gave him all the reason to be.

“Is mom here?” You asked. You hadn’t heard her footsteps but her car was in the driveway. “My god you don’t even know?” He scoffed, shaking his head. His fingers grazed his chin looking at you.

“What kind of daughter are you? One thing is not answering your moms calls but not even reading her text messages? Grandma is sick and your mom went to visit her for a couple of weeks.” Brian shook his head. Your stomach churn. You had been so caught up in your boyfriend's mess that you didn’t even make time to call your mom back. You hated yourself right now you felt the tears forming and you couldn’t control them as they raced down your face.

“You were the most well behaved and sweetest girl when I first met you.” Brian walked towards you. His fingers collected the tears that spilled from your eyes. “All of sudden you ignore your mothers text, you dont visit her anymore, you are doing drugs now or worse dealing them?” He said as his hands stroked the side of cheek. “Either your incredibly in love with that son of a bitch or he fucks you so good your a cock dumb whore that does whatever he says” Brian hand was now around your neck choking you as you struggled to breathe. “Please Brian” You gasped as you grabbed onto his arm trying to move his hand but it was no use he was stronger.

“Not to mention your so fucking ungrateful.” Brian’s hands gripped your throat tighter as you tried to gasp for more air. “The first thing you do when we get here is ask about him. Fine you want to be with him we can take you to the station.” Brian's hand moves to your hair pulling it to drag you out the door.

“No Brian please! I'm sorry thank you thank you please don't take me I’ll be good I'm done with him please” you begged. Brian let go of your hair, smirked at how easy it was to get you to beg.

“You want to thank me? Then get on your knees.” Brian practically pushed your head down forcing you to get on your knees. “Brian please not this I’ll do anything else I’ll pay you money… or something else but not this please what will mom say?” You cried looking up at him through your lashes.

A dark chuckled escaped him as he unbuckled his pants. “All of sudden you care about her opinion” Brian taunted. “If you really care about what your mom thought you wouldn’t have even interacted with Mark. Why dont you be a good girl and open your mouth.” He said as he pulled down his boxers to free his springing erection.

You did as he said and opened your mouth wide enough to try and accommodate his size. You cringed at the fact that you would be sucking off moms husban. You closed your eyes as you took him in. Your tongue licking the precum. Although you were freaking out you had to control your breathing as you slowly wrapped your mouth around him. Tired of your slow pace Brian grabbed your hair and began to fuck your throat at a faster pace. You gagged repeatedly as he continued with no remorse for your throat. Your eyes filled with tears while drool seeped out of your mouth. You silently curse your body’s reaction as you felt yourself growing wet. You weren’t enjoying this but rather it was a reflex your body had everytime you sucked someone off it usually led to sex you were hoping this wasn’t one of those times. Brian's breathing labored. You felt him shake as he came inside your mouth, some of it drooling out. Brian removed his dick from your mouth as his finger guided whatever fluids had escaped from your mouth back into it. He didn’t even tell you to swallow you just did. “Already becoming such a good girl for your daddy…” He smirked at you as you looked up at him.

“I still dont feel appreciated enough… on your hands and knees.” He demanded. Your eyes widened but you were still obedient turning around and balancing on your hands and knees. Brian slowly lifted up the knee length dress you wore.

He pressed himself against your clothe core and leaned towards your ear… “Ungrateful girls get fucked on the floor… hope you can handle the rug burn.” He smirked as you tilted your head down accepting your fate.

“Fuck your soak” He commented as he inserted a finger inside you. “What do you think your mom will think if she knew you got wet just by sucking off her husband huh?” He teased. You felt him insert an extra finger and you welcomed him. You bit your lip trying to gulp down any moans. You weren’t enjoying this but your body seemed to and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking you were.

He removed his fingers expecting his cock you were surprised when instead you were met with his tongue. Brian's tongue went to work. Licking your juices and yapping at your core. Just when he believed you were ready for him he removed his tongue and aligned his cock with your entrance. 

You gasped as he forced himself inside you. Not leaving you room for your body to get used to him. He began to thrust, a hand on your hip to keep you still while the other hand was on the back of your head forcing your cheek to touch the carpet beneath you. “Fuck your clenching so hard around me.” Brain breathed as he slammed into you. “Your so quiet… its okay to enjoy this… I know you do.” Brian said. You didn’t reply, you thought it would be safer to stay quiet. “But your silence just proves that I can fuck you when your mom is around your such a good girl not making any sounds.” He talked. You tensed at that statement dreading to think that he was going to do this again. “Damn you clenched even harder. You like that idea? You want to get your brains fuck out by stepdad when your mom’s around.” You tried to shake your head no but it was useless. He continued to thrust into you before he slammed his hips one last time and let his release inside you. “You on the pill baby girl?” You shook your head no. “We’re going to have to fix that.” Brain said as he pulled out of you and placed his jeans back on. 

“Tomorrow you're moving back in here. Unless you want to spend 20 years of your life in prison you will do as I say. Understand?” He asked. But it wasn’t a question, it was a demand. You nodded your head insinuating that you understand. 

buy me a coffee <3

[skylarkking]

I've been whacked with the valveplug stick again and I have headcannons for some of the Lost Light crew.

🔞 under cut

I'm gonna start off by simply listing the characters I know currently (I've read up to the issue where overlord first appears but have read other snippets scattered on the internet) and the list will begin with my favorites:

Rung

Definetly into BDSM

Uses interface as therapy

Despite being a fucking tiny adorable nerdy twink he knows how to work big bots

His glasses sometimes fall off during sessions and when they do he's often too blissed out or focused on the other bot to care

He is a moaner and makes all sorts of sounds that bots are obsessed with

He has tried everything and anything

He attended one of Ratchet's orgies during Ratchet's college years as a Party Ambulance

He and Froid DEFINETLY had angry interface before and you can't tell me otherwise

Rodiumus

Legit a horndog

This mf gets so worked up that throughout the day he has to step aside and take care of himself

He's a bottom who tries to play top and FAILS miserably

Drift and him are fuck buddies (you can't tell me otherwise)

He's capable of gentle and intimate interface with someone he loves, but due to his inexperience and somewhat childish attitude (not his fault I mean he's essentially a guy in his 20s) he prefers quickies over that

After interface he sometimes forgets about aftercare

Drift

Way hornier than he lets on

Loves to have his neck bitten

When he is in heat he is either gonna top every bot in his reach and make them beg through tears or he's gonna beg Ratchet with tears in his optics. I'm sorry I don't make the rules here

I think when he was a Decepticon he was Hella into knifeplay

And I mean HELLA into it

Like this bitch would pop a boner if someone licked a sword or some shit

He bottoms for Rodimus mostly but in a sort of bossy bottom sort of thing

Ultra Magnus/Minimus

This guy.... this guy may act like he's only into vanilla shit, but I fucking GUARENTEE he's a freak

He's fragged Swerve before (size kink when he's in the Magnus armor)

When he's in the Magnus armor sometimes the connections for his own spike and the armor's get wired wrong and he has to "adjust himself" (like human amabs have to do with their dicks)

Out of the Magnus armor he secretly feels extremely vulnerable and anxious when it comes to interface because of how tiny our little dill pickle is

Side note: give him a fucking HUG DAMMIT! HE NEEDS IT!

Swerve

If any of the bots would fuck a human, it would be this bastard

He'd also have human kinks (like mommy/daddy kink [thanks @archie-sunshine for rotting my brain with that idea])

Despite being a motormouth I think he can easily be silenced by a pair of thick thighs around his head

Side note: I think minibots have WAY HIGHER stamina verses their larger counter parts, so swerve will be going at it for a loooooong time

Secretly has a stash of human porn in his bar

Magnus has found said porn once and for a week Swerve was on edge in keeping his secret

Skids

Since he can learn anything really quickly I think this bastard can master the art of seduction

Like he could simply give a bot those bedroom eyes and BAM! He's fucking

He's a massive cuddler after interface

Has fragged Nautica at LEAST 15 times

When he overloads his headlights sometimes flick on by accident

Ratchet

Oh you cannot TELL ME this guy hasn't had a kinky past

Party Ambulance is fucking cannon and no one can tell me otherwise idc if it's only a fan thing ITS CANNON AND ILL FIGHT GOD ABOUT IT

Not as horny as he use to be but when Drift or Rodimus get their heat cycles you better fucking BELIEVE he's on the case

A true master of aftercare

Really into bondage

These are only a few lmao I have SO MANY MORE

[lovely-lee]

LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION

I love stories where there is a journey MOSTLY because of how many settings can be crammed into it. A brand new setting for every leg of the journey, a new place to be introduced and have key moments take place..I can think off the top of my head some of my favorite books that have this including Lord of the Rings, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, The Candymakers and the Great Chocolate Chase (PLEASE if anyone has read this LET ME KNOW).

Adding to that list is the fanfic I've been reading along to since the beginning of this year, There Are Monsters Nearby by @uhohbestie. The original summary had the blurb “Desert Duo road-trip” in there somewhere and that little line drew me in so so fast. And the zombies, of course, as well. Very quickly I found myself the “Location Guy” of sorts. And before the epilogue of this fantastic fic, I have chosen my TEN top locations from Texas to Canada! I picked these locations mostly through just my own liking of them, but there's definitely key features that make it a favorite to me including plot importance, the overall atmosphere of the place, and just my own experiences as well. Also I’ll be looking back at my comments from the selected chapters to see what my thoughts were from back then, if I had anything to say about it then. So without further ado, we’re starting off with Number 10! (Also general warning for spoilers)

Number 10 – Chapter 17: The Grocery Store

“It’s a grocery store, albeit a small one, with a large sign above its door boasting an in-store butcher and fresh local produce. Even from a distance Grian can see that some of the plate glass windows that make up the front of the building are smashed, displays that had been stacked against them pushed out onto the parking lot, creating a mess of dented cans and broken bottles.

He hopes that means whatever had besieged the place has already moved on, leaving it empty and safe enough to loot.”

Ohh the battle of deciding which place would even make it on to the list was so intense. Choosing this location actually surprised me since it wasn't even on my rough list of my favorite locations. But it made it to the top ten for many reasons! This is defiantly as VERY important plot heavy location and it’s markedly special as its set in the first chapter where Grian and Scar are away from each other for a significant period of time. Grian is there with just Quackity which elevates the tense atmosphere so much already from being in a larger town with many zombies.

I think to me it’s just also such a zombie apocalypse location in general. A place of familiarity and sustenance now twisted with rotting food, broken glass, corpses, and zombies in hidden places. Also the Butcher Army references were REALLY cool. I think my past self just puts it all together very succinctly: “Grocery store….so scary….”

Number 9 – Chapter 20: The Hot Springs

“They follow the signs directing them where to go, taking an exit off the highway onto what rapidly becomes a rutted dirt road. The hot springs themselves are about six miles off the interstate—not all that far when they have the scooter to take them there. It’s a weekend destination, rustic and clearly mostly frequented by locals, but the location is beautiful, centred in a large open valley basin, hemmed on one side by a row of hills tinted jade in the haze of the distance, with an impressive view of a large, shallow lake spread out magnificently before them.

At a first glance it seems both secluded and empty. There are several small cabins set up where the dirt road ends, arranged around a single large central building with a low, sloped aluminum roof that Grian assumes must be where the hot springs are located.”

I’ve always wanted to go to a hot springs but all the ones near me have brain eating amoeba SAD. Anyways this whole chapter was SUCH a great vibe in terms of the locations. I honestly was struggling with either picking the hot springs or the house they get all the winter clothes from earlier in the chapter. Ultimately I picked the hot springs but it was close! Pour one out for Scar and his broad shoulders or whatever.

ANYWAYS. Hot springs. Making it to Oregon. Quoting my past self, “OMG hot springs how lovely..the whole place seems so quaint and nice..ough hot springs time”. Yeah. I think it’s funny this is the second place they had no plans of going to and Scar was like we have to go there. Thank you Scar for making this road trip an actual honest to god road trip. Honestly this chapter is funny to me. The two of the have miraculously gotten back to their tentative peace with each other after leaving Karlnapity and things are like kinda nice? We were settling in for another weird intimacy chapter but BOOM this is actually where they finally talk to each other about the same song and dance they keep on doing again and again. WONDERFUL location for it like it just heightens it so much with this backdrop of comfort and warmth they have found themselves in, that Grian let Scar take them too but it’s all for naught. And then booked with the next chapter? It’s a fun time all around.

Number 8 – Chapter 32 & 33: The Enormous Lakeside Cabin

“A single house.

Alone and enormous on the waterfront.

It’s clear that there’s no town associated with it—no formal community whatsoever. At the shoreline it has a pier, the dock protruding out into the water, but it’s difficult to make out any other details at a distance. It feels safe to assume that it’s a vacation property, though. No doubt for a rich family. Meant for hot summers, canoe trips, fishing, and cookouts.”

Thinking back on this location makes me realize just how nice these two chapters were. The time to feel safe and comfortable and just be happy with each other. The cabin and the surrounding area seem so mysterious to me. I remember they didn’t find much about who lived here since it seemed it was just used in the warmer seasons. Kinda spooky in its own way! Everything about this place though just felt like a respite, a beautiful oasis after being in this hellscape for so long already. It really was just a place to rest and no added scares or surprises. Also it had a generator which I mention in my past comment, “Finding such a big beautiful mansion cabin was so awesome, and a generator!!! I love generators they’re so cool.” Man I miss having a generator.

Number 7 – Chapter 16: The Hill in the Desert

“Together, they carefully pick their way down the bank, the dry earth cracked and dusty beneath their feet, walking in the direction that leads them away from the highway and towards a natural curve of the waterway that, over decades, had piled up silt at its bend, creating a hillock with a base of wind-worn sandstone that looms over them in the gathering dusk.

It’s picturesque but barren, though Grian supposes it’s as good a place to stop as any.

“Doesn’t it look like it should have a tower on it?” he asks, shielding his eyes as he peers up at the hill’s peak. The rise is the tallest thing around for miles, glowing red-gold in the light of the swiftly setting sun.”

There’s a bit more to this quote that I didn't add cause it was just getting too long, but soon after this part, Grian climb up the hill and imagines what this desert tower might look like. He then peers over one of the edges of the hill where it’s more of a straight drop than the slope he climbed. He then gets “an odd, weightless feeling settles in his stomach—indescribable, like deja vu.

Unprompted, he looks down and wonders if a fall from this height would kill him.” SO spooky god. Having this moment and more showing how the life series and hermitcraft are like past lives is just a really cool detail. Usually these moments are more feelings of familiarity or sometimes even dreams or similar kind of places from the life series, but having like a more physical exact callback of a location is ten times eerier. Especially that here only Grian is really pulled towards the hill. Scar doesn’t really hold too much interested from what we see? Maybe internally he was thinking something else, but Grian is the one who climb up the hill, images the tower he built, and peers over where he last stood in another life.

The timing of them finding it with Karlnapity is interesting to me. They’ve been in the desert for a while now but stumbling upon it with the other three and making this a moment of isolation for Grian even. It just makes it more creepy to me and a location to ruminate over. Anyways here’s past me’s comment, “Erm tower on a hill? A CASTLE? In a DESERT? Looks around nervously. HIM LOOKIG OVER THE EDGE.. ^_^ I love desert duo <3”. This is true I love desert duo.

Number 6 – Chapter 23: The Model Home

“Eventually they pass a billboard advertising a residential neighbourhood—construction dates and parcels of land remaining for sale splashed on top of pictures of a park with an idyllic mountain background, the kind of place families with young children would go to picnic and play catch. The area beyond it is cleared of all greenery, the earth pressed flat by the tire treads of backhoes and dump trucks, the skeleton shape of houses framed in plywood and two-by-fours looming up in the darkness.

Finally, Pops begins to relax, going so far as to pull a flashlight out of his bag and using it to light their way. They follow new roads with wide sidewalks, but only a single completed building stands out to greet them: a model home built with a sod lawn, a sign set at the end of the driveway offering open houses on alternating weekends.”

Jumping right into my past comment which puts everything I feel about this location very nicely, “Ough and yes the model home. I LOVE model homes cause I love looking around people’s houses and this is like the next best thing AND they feel kinda creepy as a bonus and that’s so true here. Empty neighborhood partially built and no one will ever live here now..” My family and I when I was younger used to go to model homes as a fun free activity to do like on weekends. I remember those times very fondly so yeah this model home defiantly stood out to me. But yeah this place is just SO creepy with the lone model home that never had anyone live in it, in a plot of land no other homes were ever built. Here being where Scar and Pops had a huge shootout of a zombie swarm walking by in the cold is just so unnerving too. I just like this place a lot.

Number 5 – Chapter 28: The Tiny Cabin at the Empty Campsite

“It’s an eerie feeling, walking along the road that winds through the location, imagining the place full of campers; pitched tents and vans, pickups towing trailers of ATVs with kayaks and mountain bikes thrown in the back. The place had no doubt closed for winter before the outbreak spread itself across the continent, but Scar can’t shake a profound sense of loss as they move through it, noting the lingering signs of human activity nearly everywhere he looks. Initials and dates carved into picnic tables, black coals and ashes left in fire pits, and small pillars of smooth river rocks arranged in cairn-like clusters along the shoreline.”

“Pops, on the other hand, seems to share none of Scar’s melancholy, ignoring the empty campsites completely as he leads Scar straight to a cedar plank structure near the centre of the campground. It’s a shed really, a seasonal residence meant for the forest ranger in charge of overseeing and maintaining the site. It’s boarded up but Pops makes quick work of it, stripping back the winterization of tarps and plywood in order to pry the door open, revealing a single room inside, large enough for a small desk, a wood stove, some shelves, and a cot.”

I’ve been camping a good couple of times, in tents and in cabins, and so seeing this campsite really remained me of the places I’ve been camping to. And Scar having that same kind of line of thinking of a guy that also had camped a lot with his friends is just an interesting feeling. Of going to a place so similar to one you have experienced many times but being fundamentally changed and different now. It being empty and going to be empty for who knows how long...It’s also just such a beautiful places described, deep in this forest and alongside the river. This is another place that has no real scares or surprises of zombies or anything, so it just being spooky from its emptiness is nice in its own way.

I love the little tiny cabin too so much. Just imagining the ranger that lived in this barely bigger than a shed place, with only is few furnishings but still being a comfort to Pops and Scar now, a place to rest and be out of the cold. I just really loved this place, and them leaving their initials behind just makes it more special as well. Also this is the chapter where I got the idea of doing this list which is fun.

Number 4 – Chapter 15: The Rancher Motel

“They approach the motel with caution, keeping quiet as they creep in close. It, like everything else, looks old. Vintage way that catches Scar’s attention. The large neon sign set next to the entrance to the parking lot reads The Rancher Motel, the mismatched letters on the marquee beneath it boasting: POOL, LAUNDRY, WIFI.”

Big part of course of the Rancher Motel making it so high up on the list is because of the Jimmy and Tango backstory CRYING. Like reading this whole chapter again makes everything just...shadowed under the tragedy of what could have been, and the story that this empty abandoned building tells. That every location that once was had people living, working there tell. This is also another place where we see the Grian’s and Scar’s physical intimacy with each other stagger and lurch around for its footing. With added bonus of SCAR initiating it. That’s another story though, I love this location for it being a weird and more than likely kinda dirty motel like the hundreds I’ve been to while on road trips. Nothing like an old and dirty motel!

Number 3 – Chapter 21: The Last Gas Station and The Surrounding Forest

“The gas station itself is small but looks reasonably well kept, positioned on the edge of a large concrete pad that Grian assumes must have been used by truckers who needed a place to rest for the night. A dinged marquee sign left out by the road advertises live bait by the bucket and nearby trail rides for both beginners and experts.”

Getting into the top three...This gas station is still so diabolical to me. I think one of my favorite themes from TAMN that comes up again and again is to not get too comfortable, too compliant about the dangers you know are there but are just so easy to forget. It’s frustrating because I forgot here too!!!They didn’t check the area if it was safe, if there were no zombies around. The gas stations had slowly became a symbol of rest, of stocking up and maybe even resting overnight in shifts. It became familiar and common place as they used to be, which I think made it even easier to forget the dangers. Especially coming down from the high escaping the mall with the wheelchair was. I think about how lucky the two of them have been for so long. So so many places that they were oblivious of how much danger they were in, but they always made it out alive. I think it speaks for the fic that realistically that luck had to run out somewhere if they solely relied on it. And it just all culminates into the physically manifestation of not being careful.

And then getting into the forest,

“He hopes that when he dies from this, he’s left out here alone forever, and he hopes that when he turns, he’s granted the dignity of wandering off into the woods never to be seen again.”

This is just one of my absolutely favorite lines of the whole fic. I really love this chapter.

Number 2 – Chapter 7 & 8: The Storage Unit

“Ultimately, the storage unit doesn’t have much for them to benefit from. When they finally get in, abandoning their attempt to force the lock and simply smashing a window, they find the front office empty and useless. The reception desk has nothing of interest on it, just a computer from the early 2000s and a phone without a dial tone when they lift it off its cradle.

Scar finds the staff room while Grian goes through the shallow drawers of the reception desk. The door opens into a small space with a thin slit of a window high up on one wall. There’s a sink and a sliver of counter, which is promising. There’s also an old fridge covered in takeout menus and hand-written betting pools for every sport imaginable in one corner, and a table with four plastic-backed chairs in the other. There’s no couch to crash on, but there is a door marked as a washroom”

Similar vein to the previous location, of an earlier time of getting too comfortable. This one was especially scary and frustration since I never expected a zombie to shove its way through a broken window!! That’s so scary, but also of course them going to bed with their supplies scattered and without sleeping in shifts. The whole storage unit also reminds me of all the ones I have ever driven by.

My family did use one for a time but I actually never went to it. Dropping my comment in here, “ohh a storage unit is another really great setting, it’s like such a weird kinda place in general” and yeah they really are. This place especially brings a lot of what I’ve talked about into one place. This being a place where people worked and just existed, seeing it in every little thing the two come across. It being another place where the two try and come together again and again, with Grian grasping for more and more and Scar wanting it in his own weird way as well. Which we see so clearly with him kissing Grian after shooting the zombie AUGH. This felt like a big turning point in how they realize the dangers of the world they are now in and how much they both mean to each other. It was just two really exciting chapters with a stellar location.

Number 1 – Chapter 3: The Farmhouse

“The farmhouse is a bad idea, but it’s the only option they have.

From where they sit, parked on the gravel shoulder of a service road that splits off from the highway, they can see the proper entrance to the farm. It lays at the end of a long road that skirts around the edge of several fields. It crosses a culvert and empties into a gravel driveway set between two large silos, a barn on one side and a simple saltbox house with a large garden next to it on the other.”

To me, there was absolutely no contestant for my favorite location. It was always going to be the very first place where I was like Oh. This is not going to be just your run-of-the-mill zombie apocalypse au that also has a cheating plot point as well. This was a story that was thought out on so many details that these locations Grian and Scar were going to felt like real places, taking up space and existing at that point of time. Of course, finding out that Lock and Key often times based these locations on actual places around the route Grian and Scar made so much sense. But it takes that skill and time to write these locations to feel like places that I’ve been to just through reading. And I first really felt that here at the farmhouse. The highway they park at, the fields, the silos, the culvert, the house itself and how it looks inside.

Here too is where we see how well Grian and Scar do actually work together, and where Scar gets his signature jacket. I think what really gives the chapter such an eerie vibe is of course that this is a home, where they even come across the people who used to live there, but already infected...It gives a finality that this has reached everywhere, not just the big city, or places frequented by many people, but even quiet outskirts of secluded homes. I really like my comment from this chapter, so I’ll just end it here with it, “I love every setting they’ve been to so far since leaving the city. The empty gas station and the restaurant on the stretch of empty highway and now super freaky farmhouse property off of the highway ough…”

[mrjinx87]

Hi, folks. Steven Emanuel here.

So, for many years now, I have been pretty vocal about my feelings towards Donald Trump and Republicans. For those who need a little catching up, I’ll sum up my feelings right now: they stink and I hate their guts.

Now, admittedly, I am just as guilty as many people are of getting dragged down by politics, becoming consumed with current events, and allowing frivolous online debates about this topic or that topic to suck the joy out of me and make me miserable. I’m sure a lot of you can relate over these past four years especially.

But, here’s the thing: I try, I don’t always succeed, but I TRY not to let my politics consume my entire soul.

I have seen people on both sides of the political spectrum become so engrossed with one issue to the point that it becomes their ENTIRE personality. And sometimes, that has led to their brains rotting, which has then led them to saying and doing stupid things. AND THEN, they sometimes have gone down a pipeline that makes them worse people as a result. I don’t have to look too far for examples either. People I’ve personally known have had this happen to them.

So when it comes to politics, I try all I can to make sure that I’m not the next person to have their brain rotted. I am a fully formed, three-dimensional human being with a variety of interests, and I hope that you can tell that just by looking at the content I post online. I intentionally put a cap on talking about or looking at politics after a certain point on any given day. I make sure to take breaks. I’ve even stopped looking for new political content on social media and YouTube, since I’ve come to the realization that I actually hate about 90% of leftist content creators out there. I know what I like, and I know what I don’t like. So I’ll just stick to the people that I do like.

And maybe this is a sign of my privilege. The fact that I can just turn off my awareness of current issues whenever I want to. I’m privileged in the fact that I’m not going through what a lot of people even in this country are going through. I recognize this. But I truly believe that it’s better for my mind and for my soul that I operate in this matter. For me, it’s about balance. I think you can care about the state of the world and also still take time out to breathe. You’re not a bad person if you fight for what’s right for 3 hours of the day instead of 12.

Also, I just don’t want the people I despise to take up so much space in my head. There are people whose entire existence depends on “owning” people on the opposite side of the political spectrum. What depressing existences those people must have. I don’t want Donald Trump to be in my head 24/7. I don’t want Marjorie Taylor Greene to be in my head 24/7. I take every opportunity I can to dunk on Steven Crowder, and to be clear, I don’t regret a single thing I have ever said about that asshole, but I don’t want Steven Crowder living in my head rent free 24/7. That’s a fate worse than death.

So, yeah, I’m gonna continue to try to maintain balance. That’s pretty much it for my rant. Nobody was calling me out or anything. This was just weighing on my mind recently and I had to let it out.

TL;DR: If you ever see me post something like the guy above, something like “My wife is pregnant. We’re gonna have a baby! I’m gonna be a father! EAT SHIT, DONALD TRUMP.” If you ever see something like that coming from me, you have my permission to have me institutionalized.

[heystephen]

ashley/noitsashley/etc explained for the swifties who aren’t chronically on tiktok and don’t know what’s going on aka i rot my brain on tiktok so you guys don’t have to!

(long post ahead, i wanted to cover as much strange behavior as i could)

so let’s start with the very basic who? she is. noitisashley13, or ashley leechin, is a 29 year old tiktoker who’s gained notoriety for being a ‘taylor swift lookalike’. if you’ve seen anything about her, you’ve probably seen the video of the guy who thought he was meeting taylor in new york, and ashley and her friend going “nooo it’s ashley! it’s just ashley!” over and over again.

off of tiktok, iirc, she’s a target employee, or was, because she was fired from her nursing position for being anti vax and anti mask. she’s also married and has two young kids. so there’s like, your background on ashley. 

she has a reputation (ha) for being a liar about weird things big and small. for example, she claimed that she walked past taylor’s old place on cornelia street and the owner came outside and thought she was taylor and offered her a personal exclusive tour because of that (and then she filmed every square inch of this person’s home??).

it later came out that the person who lives there, alan, will literally just invite taylor swift fans in to look around if they ask.. which she did. when she first became popular on tiktok, she told people that she was not a swiftie and didn’t really know her songs, at another time she said she really didn’t like taylor swift, then she said she liked a few songs, now she claims that she’s been a fan since 2006, which like, again, not that deep, just painting an image for how much she lies. one of her more consequential lying moments was when she liked several comments in support of blue lives matter and calling her the republican taylor swift as well as confirming her (right) political leaning, and then stated that that never happened. it is a known fact that ashley voted for trump twice, she confirmed that herself and then backtracked once she got popular. she claims that she doesn’t like being compared to taylor and doesn’t believe she resembles her, but she deletes comments that say that she doesn’t look like taylor and blocks people who say that she doesn’t really resemble taylor; and she often doubles down on this ‘not an impersonator’ thing but she has a cameo where you can buy a video message from, you guessed it, a ‘taylor swift impersonator’.

SO, into the weird copying of taylor swift and how deep it goes. we’ve all seen the run of the mill taylor lookalike girls who can just style their blonde hair however she does it currently and maybe throw on some red lipstick and boom, everyone says they look just like her. that’s not what ashley does, by a long shot. while ashley did begin with that, she then began to intentionally take on many aspects of taylor’s life and mannerisms. dressing like her, mimicking her voice and how she talks, adopting the unique way that taylor holds pencils and makeup brushes. she has bought two scottish fold cats, a white one that she named oliver and a grey/white one that she named after a grey’s anatomy character (familiar pair?). at this point, a lot of people believe that she’s gotten veneers that resemble taylor’s teeth and filler in her face to better imitate taylor’s face but i’m not really an expert on either of those, but i’ll share some before and after pictures of how she looked prior to this.. journey of unself discovery she’s on vs how she looks now that she has decided that instead of being ashley, she would rather be taylor swift.

this week, ashley came under fire because she had said that she had partnered with the grammys as an influencer and was apparently meant to walk the red carpet.. for some reason. anyway, the brand that she was dealing with had her pay to fly herself to LA and everything and then let her know that they were disinviting her for very vague reasons which at this time are still pretty unknown. i believe the response from the brand, sweetyhigh, was that they hadn’t saved a ticket for her, which just sounds.. idk. BUT ANYWAY. much to everyone’s amusement, ashley was liking comments from people tagging taylor and asking her to fix it, and ashley reached out to the ceo of the grammys personally and inquired about it and was more or less ghosted. a lot of people believe that taylor and/or tree heard that ashley was coming and axed it for obvious reasons, others believe that she was meant to be on the fan panel but cut from it because they realized she was actually maybe kind of not the type of fan they were looking for, theories abound right now and i’m personally of the opinion that taylor’s camp didn’t want her there and told the brand she was with not to bring her. 

TL;DR noitisashley13 is a tiktoker who is trying to wear taylor’s skin like a suit, she’s a very chronic liar, also an anti mask and anti vax trump supporter 

[persphonesorchid]

Hatin' On You - MYG || Teaser ||

Summary: You absolutely loathe min yoongi, and honestly, you have no idea why - his vibe rubs you in all the wrong ways. When you and him suddenly find yourselves in a room with a shaman, things get ridiculously complicated.

Genre: Past Lovers au | Fluff, angst, enemies to lovers.

Teaser Warnings: none

Teaser word count: 647 :)

Full fic has been posted :)) - Here

Masterlist

Notes: This fic is based off a dream I had a while back. Which I can't say much about because spoilers lmao, though I will say that the dream was wild as hell. The summary alone is just a little bit of what happened in that dream of mine 🤣 But!! I hope you guys look forward to it! I'm so excited to share it with you all, and hopefully, it'll be done and ready by this weekend!

Also, just wanna say this fic wouldn't be here if Nikki didn't say "Can you write it 🥺"

And, as all my teasers go, three scenes in no particular order! Have fun! I hope you're all having a great day! ❤️

You could feel Yoongi’s stare, burning into the side of your head and you refuse to give him the satisfaction of glancing his way. You promised Seokjin you’d behave, that the few words you’d share with Yoongi – if any – would be civil.

You’ve known Yoongi for years, running in between the same circle of friends. The first time you’d met him, Seokjin had warned you not to take his lack of words and uninterested expression to heart. You hadn’t, some people are like that – you’re aware.

Yoongi constantly had his guard up, never letting anyone get closer than he would allow. It’s not easy to sit in a room with him, even amongst your friends. It’s awkward, painfully so. You’re not sure why he rubs you the wrong way, maybe it’s something about his vibe. The way he carries himself like he’s king shit, able to command a room with a flick of his wrist.

You and Yoongi always bicker, even without saying anything at all. There’s a tension that’s strung between you both, like a tight coil that only curls tighter the closer you are to each other. Like now, sitting a few inches away from him, even though he’s said nothing else to you, eyes stuck petulantly out the window.

“D’you need help finding Jimin and Hoseok?” His eyes flicker down to where the squirrel plush swings from the belt loop in your jeans.

The words are taunting and there’s a gleam in his eyes that leaves you unsure if he’s joking or not. You huff, crossing your arms, “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me, the way you act all the time.” He says, walking off, but you’re not letting him have the last word.

“As if you’re any better.” You trail behind him, glaring daggers into his broad back and hoping that he trips on air. You suck your teeth, pure pettiness leading you to follow behind him and not go your own way.

You’re not sure why it’s always this way. There’s a need to be as far away from him as you possibly can be, if to just spare yourself the headache, but also, a need that swirls beneath it to be near. You’re not sure what to make of that and you try not to think of it. Try to bury it down, put a lid on it and leave it to rot in a corner somewhere.

You don’t like him, and that’s just it, there’s nothing more to that, nothing you have to sit and bust your brain over.

“You two have a past.” The woman calls, and for some reason, you and Yoongi both stop. “I can show it to you.”

She’s probably part of the attractions - here to make money just like everyone else. It’s not uncommon to find folk like her in places like this, where susceptible people are lured into paying a pretty penny for baseless words. It calls to you though, for some reason, you’re not sure, but you turn to look at her first.

She smiles at you, and you turn back.

“Ignore her.” Yoongi says, trying to urge you forward, even though he himself has yet to move. “C’mon.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the woman is persistent, it seems, as she speaks again. “I’d be doing you both a favor.”

Yoongi sighs, the warmth of his hand leaving your back as he turns. You turn too, and you’re locked in a silent stare-off with the woman.

“I don’t think she’ll leave us alone.” He mumbles quietly to you, and against your better judgment, you follow him as he walks back. “People do this all the time, so don’t pay mind to whatever she has to say.”

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