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buckttommy · 6 hours

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something something buck and tommy's first major argument. buck walks out because he knows if he doesn't, he's going to explode. he goes to eddie's house and unloads, because of course he does. eddie listens intently.

"and then i came here." buck drops down on the sofa.

eddie nods and rests a hand on his shoulder. "sorry man."

"it is what it is. can i crash here for the night?"

eddie gives him a look. "don't be stupid. of course you can." he pauses. "hey, you told tommy you were coming back, right?"

buck stares. "uh, no, those were not exactly my last words. it's fine, though. i'm pretty sure he already knows."

tommy's not the one with abandonment issues anyway, that's buck's thing. a weird look crosses eddie's face but he doesn't say anything and buck doesn't ask. they play video games until they crash out in the living room like a couple of teenagers, and then the next morning, buck goes home.

he lets himself in using his key. tommy is in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. he looks startled to see buck standing there, which is fair, buck supposes. he goes over and kisses him and apologizes and tommy says it's okay, and apologizes too, and buck thinks that's supposed to be it but tommy's being weird. he's distant in a way that buck didn't expect. tommy answers his questions, and he participates in conversation, but he's not present. it's only when they're in bed for the night that buck rolls over to face him.

"okay, what is it?"

tommy yawns. "what is what?"

"this." buck waves a hand between the two of them. "you're being weird."

"i'm being weird."

"yes. and if you're - if you're still mad, you know, we should, uh. i don't know. we should talk about it."

an unreadable look crosses tommy's face. he shrugs. "i'm not mad."

but he's something. buck keeps looking at him, keeps wordlessly begging him to give him something.

eventually tommy sighs. "look i'm not mad. i just... didn't think you were coming back. and over the years i've learned that it's best to just... accept reality quickly rather than wait for it to sink in."

buck sits up. "but i did come back."

"you did." tommy's smile is small. "i guess i'm just waiting for my brain to catch up because it still thinks you're gone and aren't coming back."

and that's the point buck realizes that, for as much damage as tommy could do to him, he could do so much more to tommy.

"hey, hey, no." he throws the covers off and straddles tommy's hips, cupping his face and leaning forward so their chests are touching so he can meet his gaze. "i'm not leaving."

"you did."

"yeah, i mean — yes, i needed space. but i was coming back. i was always planning to come back."

tommy lifts his shoulders in a helpless little gesture. "i didn't know that. i thought you were done. i thought —" he cuts himself off and swallows once, twice. "i thought you were done," he says again, quietly.

christ, buck is the worst person alive. no wonder eddie looked at him like that. he wants to go back in time and beat himself with a stick but there will be time for self flagellation after he's reassured his boyfriend. so buck kisses him slowly, deeply, thoroughly and presses their foreheads together.

"i'm not leaving —" this, he almost says. but it's more than that, isn't it? tommy doesn't just want reassurance that buck still wants a relationship, he wants reassurance that he still wants him. buck clears his throat. "i'm not leaving you, tom. i'm — i'm in this. you know? i might — okay yeah, i might need space every now and again, especially when we get into it like we did but i'm —" he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for this last part, and forces himself to hold tommy's stare. "i'm pretty sure you're it for me. you know? like. when i picture my future, it's — it's me, and then there's you. and sometimes one or both of us has grey hair. maybe a couple pets. couple kids. but. it's always you and me."

tommy blinks up at him. "oh," he whispers.

but it's not a dismissive oh, or even an oh that says he doesn't want that too. it's just purely overwhelmed. so buck smiles and presses a dry kiss to his forehead.

"yeah, oh," he says against his skin.

tommy's hands tighten around his waist. this close together buck can feel the rapid pound of tommy's heartbeat. it's one of his favorite feelings in the world.

tommy rubs his thumb over his hipbones. "in case you haven't guessed, you're kind of it for me too."

buck hums. "yeah."

"yeah." tommy nudges buck's jaw up and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "i am so. madly, insanely, terrifyingly in love with you." he pulls back so he can look into his eyes. "you're all i see. my future is nothing but you."

buck swallows, eyes filling with tears. "oh."

tommy huffs a breathy laugh. "yeah. oh."

and then they kiss and kiss and kiss until the sun comes up.

#jack.txt #otp: eye of the storm #this is not a fic.#but it's not NOT a fic #you understand #bucktommy #tv: 911

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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 2 days

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Hi! I just scrolled through your blog and loved your writing, so I decided to make a request! I was wondering if you could write fem!reader x Lucifer where they're kind of just hanging out but R is kind of grumpy and Luci is subtly (but not subtly cause lord knows he's too awkward to be good at hiding things) trying to figure out what it is. R kind of just dismisses him while scrolling on their phone and Lucifer's like "let me try something..." and just slides a snack to R to which she nibbles on and then becomes normal again. Bonus points if she apologizes when she realizes she was being mean without meaning to. Anyway, this got long. If you decide not to write this, I understand. If you do, you are required to drink water and eat a snack too at some point. Love you and your writing! <3

A/N — OOOOOHHHHHHH anon I love you for requesting this 😭💖 thank you so much! It's just a little short, but I wasn't sure what else to add lol

Hangry | Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader being a little mean, Lucifer being loving and understanding

Word Count: 489

Summary: Luci forces you to eat something after you unintentionally snap at him.

On a couch, in a palace, in hell, there was you. Glorious you. The very one who kept Lucifer sane — his Heavenly best friend turned perfect stepmother to his beloved daughter, which was a more recent (and super awesome) development.

He could tell just by looking at you that you weren't exactly feeling the best — it was clear by the present frown and the way your brows furrowed every once in a while, as if you were fighting something.

For a split second, he thought you were sick. But as he placed his hands all over your face, forcing you to look away from your phone screen, he soon realized that you weren't sick.

“Sorry. . .” He mumbled when you set your darkened glare on him.

You rolled your eyes, looking back to your phone. There was important stuff going on. Meetings to be scheduled. You didn't have time for anything else.

“Did you sleep?” Lucifer questioned not even five minutes later.

You sighed, irritated, practically growling out your answer. “Yes.”

“Okay. . . Well how long did you —”

“GOD! Can you give me five fucking minutes to do my job, Lucifer!?”

He was momentarily taken aback by your harsh tone, but then it was as if a light bulb went off in his head and he stood from where he had previously planted himself in front of you.

Guilt began to settle in your being as you nestled yourself further in the couch to continue working. You hadn't expected him to leave — just maybe stop hovering like you were going to spontaneously combust and disappear.

You knew he meant well, but you just weren't feeling it. Any of it.

Five minutes later he returned with a plate that had your favorite sandwich and bag of chips on top, snatching your phone out of your hand and replacing it with the plate and a bottle of your favorite drink.

You growled. “Luci—”

“Eat.” He demanded, holding your phone out of your reach.

And you did. That first bite of the sandwich made you realize that you hadn't eaten breakfast. . . Or lunch. . . You felt better immediately, which showed him instantly what the problem had been.

Once you finished, you sat in silence, trying to figure our what to say. . . It ended up being a ‘thank you’ that was said so low it was almost missed in the quiet room.

“You feel better?” He asked.

“Yeah. . . I'm sorry I snapped at you — I didn't mean to. . .” You trailed off when he grabbed your face in his hands and forced you to look at him.

“I forgave you the moment you started eating. Before anything, you're my best friend, and we don't need you being hangry.”

“Wife.” You corrected with a slight smile.

“Even better.” He grinned, placing sweet kisses all over your face — even the tip of your nose. Yeah. . . You were definitely forgiven.

So long as you remembered to eat and stay hydrated.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #lucifer headcanons #lucifer x female reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #fem reader #x reader

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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days

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Food for thought for sub Boothill: wireplay!

Mechanic reader who helps with repairs all up inside him and maybe an update has him tingle each time they touch his wires, or graze his ports, or the potential opportunities 🤤

I only did minor researches about cyborgs to have a basic understanding, so most of the things I write down will be purely fiction. Also sorry that it turned out as angst instead of NSFW :(

Feel free to ask for a second part to make up for it

Warning: (a little) angst, we are screwing around

Boothill had hinted at the fact that he can’t feel with his mechanical body parts for a while now. For him, who has been like this for so long, one would think he had gotten used to it. Yet that wasn’t the case. Were you to ask him if it bothered him, he’d answer no without an ounce of hesitation. This used to be the truth, until he fell for you. In other words, if you were to ask him the same question now, the response would be much more heartbreaking.

To get a simple comparison, it was as if your body didn’t belong to you. Despite him technically being able to do anything, it felt as if he couldn’t at the same time. Serving as an echo and reminder of his hopelessness prior to gaining this body. It was only a small price to pay considering the sin he committed by being the sole survivor, his path of revenge was fuelled with nothing but pure rage. A second life, filled with endless possibilities, at the loss of his own humanity, not the worst of his sacrifices.

The most regrettable change he had to undergo was the loss of sensation. Everyday, a numbness that wouldn’t vanish engulfed him from the bottom to his shoulders, pretty much mirroring his inner emotions. How losing the sense of touch could throw one into a deep abyss of endless emptiness was unimaginable. To think this would have such a huge consequence on his psyche was unpredictable, he believed it wouldn’t come this far, since he still could feel from his shoulders up to his head. He was horribly wrong.

Whenever you embraced him, some kind of guilt mixed with adoration would eat away at him. Boothill craved your touch, more than that he wanted to feel your warmth when he hugs you, not just the cold iron. At the same time he wished you’d find someone else. Staying by his side would only bring problems, considering the high bounty on his head. You deserved it, you deserved so much better than this icy, robotic body of his. Sometimes his true thoughts would slip out and he’d accidentally tell you how it’s a pity he can’t feel anything. Soon after he’d chuckle and tell you not to worry about it, as well as how he’s grateful for his current life, since he’ll be able to carry out revenge this way.

You have long figured out his concerns, and no matter how you showered his body with love and affection, he only seemed to condemn himself more. This wasn’t something you could just accept like that, seeing your lover being so down caused you nothing but grief. Especially with the thought in mind that you couldn’t help him- no. That’s not true. You could if you wanted to, it’s never too late to learn new things. Besides you had a basic understanding of mechanics and things related to it, since it is a part of your work. Even if you had never done something this high-tech, it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Giving it a shot wouldn’t hurt no one, right?

After coming to such resolves, it got shaken again by your endless worries. You had no idea where to start, nor how a cyborg works. Besides the IPC is way more knowledgeable about this than you, so what’s the chance of success? How were you going to achieve that goal anyway? Uncountable amounts of questions flooded your mind, chasing away any traces of confidence you previously had. That’s when you reminded yourself as to why you wanted to do all of this in the first place. It’s all because of him, he wanted to feel, and who were you to refuse his request? Thus began your secret operation, to program a small device that works as a sensory aid. This took you so long that boothill also noticed you hiding something from him, yet he never asked, respecting your wish to keep it a secret.

One day, after you were sure that it was done and hundred precent safe, you mustered enough courage to present the idea to him. Your heart was in your hand while you explained it to him, on what exactly you would have to do as well as what this little piece of metal can do. With trembling hands, you held the small chip. It was only as big as a pingpong ball, yet it took you months to refine it to perfection. Suddenly breathing was like the most difficult task in the world, as well as speaking. Your breath was short and ragged as you stumbled over your words, trying your best to explain the situation. It was hard to believe you were suggesting the idea of doing modifications on your dear boyfriend.

Boothill was initially grinning, wondering what kind of present you got him. When he saw your nervous stutters and the gift in your hand, his expression loosened up a little, thus he was smiling meekly now. Without beating around the bush, he clasped his hand over yours, then said, “m’ mighty fine, ya’ do what ya’ want, no need to force it, aight?” His hand was cold like always, in contrary to you he didn’t quiver, simply because he couldn’t. Even so you knew this was very shocking to him, you noticed by the indescribable look on his face. There was his usual cheerful air, brave smirk and reassuring yet chaotic vibe. Though a hint of bitterness was hidden behind these layers.

Why? That’s what he wondered about. You spend all your free time on this, just for him, because he accidentally pitied it once or twice? Even though he appreciated the thoughts and efforts, he still felt bad. Yet there was something else too, scepticism. If this were to work, would things get better? Doubt, suspicion and most prominently fear engulfed him. What if it just doesn’t work? You must be so disappointed if that were the case. Or something might go wrong and he never gets the chance to hold you again, that would be way worse than his current fate. Frankly enough, he is already grateful to have a place to call home again, which is why he doesn’t want to be too greedy.

You nodded, then said, “I want to try, okay?” He saw your determination, so he had to reason to refuse you, giving you a smile as he replied, “don’t mess me up too much, darling.” After getting his consent, you made him lie down on the working bench. If he didn’t knew any better, it almost felt like you were a doctor. You started with removing his cover, using a cordless screwdriver to get rid of the metal plates on his torso. This way you can access his central parts and inner systems. Operating on a human being was stressing, especially because it was someone dear to you too. It took you a while until you properly understood his body and how everything worked, many wires were placed everywhere, so many that it confused you. There were also artificial bones to help stabilise and protect the wires as well as countless devices, similar to the task of real bones. Some kind of blue liquid was being pumped to his heart, keeping it alive. You found many chips for various purposes, yours in contrary looked like a joke. This was overwhelming at first, but after studying him for a bit, you came to understand most of it.

Behind his pelvis was his oil tank, with the energy conversion device being right next to it. It was connected to every single part of his body, since it was the machine delivering energy through every wire. There were also many other human-like parts; an artificial lung, an oxygen cylinder to store the air needed to keep the brain alive, an artificial stomach which was more like a storage for bullets. The department that you needed the most was behind his chest, where his motor for motion skills are. It was located alongside a few other big systems. If you could somehow connect the control system with your little chip there, then he might be able to turn on or off the sensor at free will. No doubt it was a bold gamble, but you were willing to try.

After hours of endless finger-work, to the point sweat was dripping down your chin, you finally managed to attach the device to the right place. A total of 52 tiny wires were needed to properly connect everything, the last thing you had to do was to reattach his covers. Before moving on to that part, you tapped your self made chip gently, wondering if he would be able to feel anything already. During the entire time you were working and basically experimenting on him, Boothill stayed quiet, not wanting to disrupt you. Though this time, he let out an irritated gasp, “huh.” It was strange, something wasn’t quite right. That means you did manage to make modifications to his body, the question is if it’s a good thing. “Boothill, are you alright?” You asked him immediately, worried that you made things worse. “Shucks cutie, m’fine, I’m not that frail.” Once again he retorted to his usual fun demeanour.

It wasn’t a lie, he was fine, but that doesn’t mean nothing happened. Though he didn’t know how to describe it neither. Somehow it felt like electricity was send to his brain, stimulating his nerves. The sensation he just experienced… it was weird yet familiar. Could it be whatever you did worked? Was that bizarre sensation the sense of touch? It’s been so long, he doesn’t know nor remember anymore. “I’m done, can you see if you can turn it on?” You said hesitantly, almost sounding as unsure as him. Boothill looked through his system, and there has indeed been a new feature unlocked. He downloaded it swiftly, a little on edge as he waited. 98%…99%… and done. “How do you feel?” The anticipation in your voice was as clear as day. This was the most intense part of your operation after all, it was if it bore fruition.

“I really don’t feel a difference.” He told you honestly, his brows furrowed. It seems he also kind of hoped for it to work, guess his expectations were too high. Your heart sank, all this work for nothing. In an instant, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest. With a disappointed and guilty tone, you spoke, “I’m sorry, I made you go through all that for nothing.” Then you held his iron hand tightly, as if to apologise to him. As soon as your skin made contact with him, his hand twitched and he pulled it back. A dumbfounded look was on your face along with the grief. When you stared at him, totally confused, you noticed his face heat up. “Boothill…?”

“Your hand’s warm.” He stated, lips slightly parted which revealed his sharp teeth. “What?” You didn’t quite catch the meaning behind his words, hence the question. Boothill sit up very abruptly and pointed a finger to his body, “touch m’ here.” Despite you not understanding the situation, you obliged anyway, tapping his torso with your index finger. “It worked!” The cyborg stated, blinking a few times in awe. “My forking goodness, this shirt works.” “You mean…?” Your own eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. It worked? Your little amateur operation there? “It worked.” You had to repeat those words that seemed so unfamiliar in your mouth.

The realisation hit you, your hard work payed off and it wasn’t unnecessary. In an instand you pulled that man into a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him tightly. “Hey now, don’t squeeze me so suddenly mother-fudger, hahaha.” Boothill laughed, returning your embrace immediately. This feeling was what he subconsciously missed. For the first time in years, he could feel the warmth of another. He can feel it when something is touching him, when you are caressing him so gently.

Even though first and foremost he looks unbothered, only happy about this new function, he was deeply shaken by it. His bottom lip trembled due to the overwhelming emotions swirling around inside him. If he could cry, he would. Partly because he’s so grateful for your deeds, also because feeling so many stimulations when he literally couldn’t for years is a bit overwhelming. It wasn’t bad though, your hug felt so nice. To think the first thing he gets to feel after being senseless all these years is not anything fighting related, but the soft feeling of your tender embrace. How lucky he was. If he dared to be a little more selfish, then he’d wish this moment could last forever.

#AHHHH IDK IF ITS GOOD T^T #boothill x you #honkai boothill #boothill star rail #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill #boothill x y/n

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wonysugar · 18 hours

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incredibly out of character of me to write something like this about yujin and quite frankly idk what came over me… BUT WALK WITH ME!

gp yujin thoughts!

cw : kinda breeding kink, heavyy puppy kink, subtle praise kink, this is probably kinda nasty in terms of detailing and description sorry y’all it’s like 2am HELPP i’m fighting demons right now

you look at these pictures and think “omg sweet girl.. she does no wrong.” and you’d be… so right actually she’d be the sweetest girlfriend ever i mean look at her SHE TAKES YOU OUT ON DATES EVERY WEEKEND AND BUYS YOU FLOWERS BEFORE PICKING YOU UP anyways

one random saturday, you ask her if you guys could simply chill at home instead of going out since you caught a cold prior to the hang out, to which she will, of course, happily oblige! she’s fine being anywhere as long as it’s with you aheheheh she’s so cute she’d start actually giggling at the mere thought of having to take care of a sick yn, making sure you’re okay and watching over you:(( sweet bby

one thing she wasn’t expecting, however, was to witness you getting surprisingly and strangely aroused by being pampered this much and having to take care of you in another way. or, actually.. more like having the roles switch and being taken care of instead! :]

she doesn’t know what to do when you’re kissing all over her and whining about how much you need to give her a reward for being so good to you. on one hand, she wants to be spoiled too and have you all to herself. on the other, she wants to tuck you back to sleep because you’re ill and deserve some good rest!! if things went according to plan, she wouldn’t even have thought twice about it and would’ve just given you tea to drink and force you to take a well-deserved nap..

but let’s just say that the dick in between her legs, very familiar traitor to yujin, had other plans.

honestly, with your soft hand palming her dick through the fabric of her jeans that was accompanied by the sweet things you whispered in her ear, it made it impossible for her to not want more.

so when you’re finally bouncing on her twitching cock cowgirl style whilst she lays back on the couch? oh well YESS~~

and one thing about yujin? oh she’s a sensory girlie i fear… poor puppy can’t enjoy having sex if she can’t hear and see every little thing that’s happening. from the soft moans and ‘good puppy’s escaping your lips and the way you’re bouncing up and down in front of her all the way down to the noise your skin makes when it’s slapping against hers due to her rough pounding and seeing you sneak a hand under your top to access your own chest, playing with your own nipples and getting off on her adorable vulnerability,,, or maybe she’s even paying close attention to the wet sound your pussy makes when it’s rubbing against the shaft of her hard cock, she’s watching it pump in and out of you and stretch you out:(( sometimes maybe even watch and hear it slip out on accident, listening to the ‘plop’ sound it makes on your stomach when it slaps it.. YES it’s frustrating and YES it’s also incredibly hot to her LISTEN—

it’s all sososo lewd to her,,, it makes her feel so filthy ouh it drives her crazy me thinks

also the consent check is THERE! she knows you’re sick, she needs to constantly make sure you’re feeling alright enough to continue and always reminding you that you can always stop whenever you feel overwhelmed she’s so soft i’m.

omg random thoughts about yujin nodding eagerly when you talk dirty to her,, “does it feel good, baby?” and she can only whimper and keenly nod as a response because she can’t speak coherent and proper sentences when you’re making her feel this good foekfnem SHE’S SENSITIVE OKAY

also i am a firm believer of her being a drooler i don’t CARE! she’s digging her nails into your naked thighs whenever she’s close to climax, looking up at you with glossy eyes, upturned eyebrows and a cute pout:((((( her mouth often agape when she does cum, it’s very common for her to drool all over her chin as she rides out her orgasm and shoots her thick load into your womb, getting too into it to even remember that she needs to PULL OUT WHEN CUMMING? listen SHE’S JUST A STUPID PUPPY LET HER LIVEE

and when it comes to the aftercare? oh it’s unmatched; you’re passed out, naked, on the couch next to her and she runs her hand through your hair, scratching it and giving you a scalp message cause she knows your head probably hurts from orgasming while having a cold… GUYS— [EXPLOSIONS]

#smut #kpop gg #female reader #ive smut #yujin ive smut #ahn yujin #ahn yujin x y/n #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x female reader #yujin ive #yujin x female reader #ive yujin #ive ahn yujin #losing my shit

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xiao-come-home · 23 hours

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Giggling, kicking my feet, spinning in circles over Boothill...

Just imagine, S/O in a creative field, and they've been preparing for an event where they get to show off their work..

Except, they've been doing it in secret because they don't feel confident and they're unsure if people would stop by for them..

So cue S/O's surprise when they suddenly bump into Boothill at said event—maybe even burst into (happy) tears if he praises their work.. I just know this man's the sweetest for his S/O ;;;-;;;

YUEESS anyway this got kinda long but take it 🫡

You knew the day was coming - the day so, so important in your career that could possibly shift everyone's opinion about you and your hard work. Day after day, more preparations were made, and people who assisted you kept patting your shoulder as you walked by, already congratulating you.

Yet, amongst all of the joy - your hesitation was certainly present. No one close to you knew about the event - not even the closest people, not even Boothill himself, who was your significant other. Even though so many already praised you - just what meaning does it hold if no one actually shows up to the event itself?

The lack of confidence and worrying were the only ones that bothered you to no end - which, Boothill noticed immediately as it was not your usual behavior. Not only were you constantly busy and away from home when he finally got back, but you were constantly stressed out. He tried not to pressure the matter as you were unwilling to talk, but that's Boothill we're talking about - which means - time for Boothill to snoop around and find out himself.

Today is the day. The day you anticipated so much, but also dreaded to finally have it happen. You hop onto the stage, and gasp at the amount of people below. You can't count the amount of eyes that gaze at you, and people seem to be genuinely impressed at your work - applauding loudly, causing you to tear up on stage.

That's a shame you haven't noticed the familiar cyborg who's been watching you the whole time, smiling widely to himself.

Once the official part is over and the festivities begin, people swarm around you to ask you more about your work or actual interviews, but you gently excuse yourself for now under the excuse of being tired. Surprisingly, the crowd goes away, but they'll surely be back...

You breathe in and out, shaking your head from all the attention, but suddenly, you bump hard against something and your hands automatically cover your poor nose; the pain makes you cry under your nose a tiny "oww," just what the hell is that pole here? Was there one before?!

"Ouch! 'm sorry sweetheart! Thought ya would finally notice me, but not that kinda way..." Boothill's voice reaches your ears and you open your eyes in the span of seconds, "I can't believe ya didn't tell me about all of this! A god dang event just for you, and those little motherfudgers that barely let me in, let alone get closer to ya—"

Boothill takes your hands off your face in his, pressing a soft kiss on your nose, "I didn't know my sweet pea was so smart," his voice gets softer and quieter, eyes gazing into yours, "I'm so proud of ya. I really wish you've told me about this, so we could be properly celebratin' this together."

You no longer could fight your tears and let them run down your cheeks, "I'm sorry, I didn't— I didn't think anyone would even show up," you sobbed, "I didn't even know if I could get through this if—" your sentence gets cut off by Boothill's fingers pushing your chin up and staring at you with ungodly amounts of love in his eyes.

"Silly you," he wiped off the tears with his hand, "of course they'd come. They did. So many people are here just for you, admirin' yer work and almost fightin' to say a word to ya. I know ya often doubt yourself, but, as you can see," Boothill looks behind you and see people fawning over your projects, "there's no need for it. You deserve all of this, sweetheart, even if I can't understand a single fudgin' word. You put yer entire heart into this - I see it, love."

Boothill's words only make you cry harder, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly - but this time, your tears are those of joy.

After calming down, you sit nearby with Boothill next to you. Sparing him a glance, you confusingly mention the new hat he's wearing, "Ha! Took ya long enough to see! It worked as intended - ya didn't know it was me back there, in the crowd!" He exclaimed proudly, sending you a smug grin.

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.anon thirst

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melodic-haze · 3 days

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I WAS WAITING FOR THE ASKBOX TO BE OPENED AGAIN WOOHOO…

anyway. How about a belly bulge from a strap with Robin? Like, trying out different straps with Robin and the one is bigger then the bigger belly bulge on her stomach is!!!

-🐿️

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Robin x dom!fem!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader with a strap but that's probably evident HAHAHA, squirting

☆ — NOTES: I JUMPED ohhh 🐿 how I love your mind ik you sent this when I last opened my askbox I'm so sorry it took this long 💀💀💀💀💀

I went crazy insane before sitting down to write this bc HOLY FUCK

For the record I'd like to think that this was Robin's initial idea. She got way too curious and decided to just maaaybe suggest experimenting with sizes :3

And maybe she wants to see how it feels to be stuffed silly but shhh you don't need to know that (you probably already know LOL)

You start with a smaller size before buying new ones that are bigger than the last......but you just can't help but notice that whenever you both look around the site for another one, she always seems to linger at a particularly large one before you gently nudge her and snap her out of whatever train of thought she was in

So you end up buying that exact one in secret before surprising her, in which case?

The moment you revealed your 'mystery gift', you find that you've never seen Robin's eyes practically sparkle this much in such a peculiar way; it shined with a humorous mix of surprise, amusement and heated desire.

"Is this..?"

"I've noticed your eye on it more than once—for a multi-talented performer, you're not exactly discreet," you joked.

She smiles bashfully, "I suppose I've let my excitement show once or twice..."

"Really."

She laughs in that melodic tone you've easily grown to love, "Oh, hush, you!"

But then her eyes drift back to the new toy you've bought her.. and her hand idly strokes the false appendage, the size comparison between it and her hand being.. definitely something.

You hadn't even realised you were staring at her (and her movements) until you heard her clearing her throat, "Y-Yes? Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

She gives you a light smirk, the wings on her head lightly flapped as if it were tittering, "I was going to ask if you'd like to try it out on me but if you're preoccupied with something, then-- mmph! ..Mm..."

You had silenced her with a quick yet deep kiss, the dildo pressing down on both your stomachs and earning you an excited moan before you drew back, "Was that enough of an answer for you, angel?"

"Mhm..." Her hand went to feel the toy leaning on her stomach, as if a prelude for the real event, "More than satisfactory."

Oh god when you get down to it, it's like she's absolutely hypnotised. Robin's DEFINITELY a lot more, for the lack of a more eloquent term befitting for such a lovely lady 🥰, sluttier and you've found that out for a bit now, but you've never seen her like this—all that's happening right now is Robin blowing you and yet it's as if she's already so dumb and eager as she drools on your cock. Can't even fit it in her mouth, what's the chance that she'd fit in her cunt????

Turns out she's determined to have you (and your new toy) inside of her no matter what 🤷‍♀️ gotta respect the woman's perseverance 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

She winces when you try to put it in at first (with a LOT of questioning her beforehand about whether she's sure she can handle it, which she says she can but still) and you take your time with it, letting her adjust to the stretch little by bit. Something inside her wants you to just shove it all in but she 1) knows better and 2) doesn't want to worry you 🫶🫶🫶🫶

It takes a while but when you finally bottom out inside her she is WEAK AS HELLLLLLL❗️❗️ Her eyes are half-lidded, her breaths fast, drool gathering on the corner of her mouth.......oh she's already gone and you haven't even started moving yet

The moment you do though??? Ohhh boy oh boy oh BOYYYYYYY her wings are a DEFINITE tell on how she's feeling. With the way they're flapping and twitching as you piston her deeply, you can easily say she was enjoying it ☺️

And alsooo the moment you've all been waiting for :33333

You had been so distracted with your Halovian lover's reactions that you almost didn't notice the very noticeable bulge on her...

Oh. Oh.

"Robinnn..." You cooed with a clear smirk on your lips, "I'm sure you can manage to look down here, right? It'll be worth it."

You accentuate your point further by gently grazing your hand onto the evident bulge on her stomach disappearing and reappearing every time you plunged the strap inside her. She looks down at the feeling with unfocused eyes before they widen at the realisation...

And then you push.

The reaction you get is one you wish you recorded for preservation—she screams as her nails claw on the sheets underneath her, hips shaking up and pushing herself even further into your cock. The tip ends up hitting a particular spot and her eyes roll back as you feel some sort of pressure hitting onto your strap.

The moment you pull out, a jet of liquid squirts out and hits you and the strap both. It takes a while before her orgasm actually starts to recede.

...

And you need her to do that again, you resolve within yourself, as you use the wings on her hips as handlebars and pull her back on your dick without a warning.

You don't stop for a while, that much is clear

Yk what else is clear? That Robin's a SIIIIZE QUEEEEEN I love her 🥰🥰🥰 She's soooo stretched out and fucked out by the end of it and yk what the best part is???

She makes sure to show you just how much she appreciates her very big gift in any way you'd want ☺️☺️

She's gonna have so much fun the day after when she goes to work ahahahah no fr I'd say jokes but I'm really not. She'll think about what you've done and what you now have and she'll feel her pussy clench as she gets distracted by her own thoughts when she REALLY shouldn't be 😭

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alchemistc · 3 days

Text

Couched In Metaphor

"You want a beer man?"

Eddie tilts a look over his shoulder, already halfway through the doorway to his kitchen, and Tommy shoots a glance at his watch. "Mmm, no can do. I'm meeting Evan in a bit."

"Is this my cue to act a fool for your attention?"

There's a moment where Tommy wants to double down on defense for Evan, but it's a joke, it's just a joke and if Evan were right next to him he'd definitely enjoy the gentle ribbing. He tries not to examine the immediate desire to defend him too closely. Too much, too soon, it's barely been a few months.

"And he's got jokes, ladies and gentlemen."

Eddie grins: wide, amused. It's what he came for - the chance to get Eddie out of his own head for a few hours. "You guys doing anything special?"

"We're on a mission to pick out a new couch, apparently."

When Eddie stills, Tommy swears it's like he's just been frozen in place; the beer in his hand raised halfway to his mouth, lips pursed, brows raised, a cartoon character stuck in time. He plays it off a moment later, hastily lowering the bottle, nodding. "Don't let him bring a clipboard."

It's Tommy's turn to wrinkle his brow.

"No good can come when that man's got a prioritized list, Tommy, I'm serious."

"So we're ignoring the fact that there's apparently something about tagging along for furniture shopping that just made you freeze frame?"

Eddie tilts his head, squints his eyes, takes a drag off his beer. "That's a Buck and Tommy conversation, not an Eddie and Tommy conversation. You wanna know more about the clipboard, though, I've got about thirty horror stories."

---

"I feel like maybe I've been bamboozled," Tommy says, three furniture stores in. The couch Evan is currently testing is -- just like every other couch they've looked at so far.

"None of them have been right."

He's got that look in his eyes like he's been knocking on doors in a structure fire for too long.

"Are we worried about aesthetics, here, or comfort, or whether or not they fit the space? Eddie warned me about Clipboard Buck but maybe you should pull up your notes app and make a pro con list."

Evan flushes. Darts a glance down at his feet, and his thumbs dig into the seams of his hoodie pocket. "I just thought I'd walk in and find what I was looking for. Sort of thought it'd just - call to me, or something."

"It's a couch Evan, not a lifetime commitment."

And Evan flushes deeper, cheeks pinking, lips twisting. Tommy, who's been hovering nearby while Evan tests out what feels like half a million identical couches, feels himself sigh, bending and twisting to settle next to him, one hand reaching out to squeeze at Evan's knee.

"So it seems like maybe there's a story here I'm not aware of."

It sort of tumbles out of Evan, then, a rush of half apologies and stumbling explanations, and Tommy thinks of the snatches of conversations they've had about their past partners, their admittedly not great parents.

"And - you know, I just thought. I mean. I figured." He gestures, vaguely, and then more pointedly, a glance from beneath his lashes to catch Tommy's gaze as he waggles a finger between the two of them.

Oh.

Tommy waits a beat. Sometimes it's better to let Evan work it out in his own head for a second.

Also, he's - sort of reeling, a bit. Too much, too soon, he'd thought, but here he was, unaware of the significance of being asked on this little errand until he suddenly wasn't, and -

"Sorry. That's - it's not like - anyway, I've clearly put way too much weight into the couch thing, you're right, it's just a couch."

He's been ignoring the urge to curl his fingers around Evan's for the better part of two hours, now. He doesn't question it, usually, but in this specific scenario it's felt too couple-y, too forward, too much like begging a sales associate to make some assumptions Evan wasn't prepared to deal with.

Evan's still twisting his hands together inside the pocket of his jacket, and Tommy makes the snap decision before he can talk himself out of it - two fingers tucking into the pocket, pressing into the meat of Evan's palm, pressing up and pulling without any real force, and it's like Evan deflates, a bit, hand immediately following the soft drag out of the fabric to curl four fingers around Tommy's palm.

"It doesn't have to be just a couch."

---

They have their first fight, navigating the stairwell up to Evan's floor, and situate it in the room in stony silence. Tommy considers leaving, once it's exactly as Evan wants it. He's good at that - jumping ship at the first sign of trouble, and he has to swallow the urge down while Evan glares a hole into the armrest.

He's just opening his mouth to speak when Evan's voice drifts over to him, quieter than he'd expected. "I really don't want it to just be a couch."

And Tommy's never -

He's dated plenty of people - cared for less, and loved very few, but he's never steeped shit in metaphor and he's also never gone from "attracted to the straight guy again" to "this inanimate object is a symbol of our relationship" in -- ever.

"Evan."

There's a flatness to his voice that only ever comes out when he's truly upset, and he hates it, hates that he can just shut it all off. He makes a conscious effort, unfurls the fists shoved into his pants pockets. Tries again.

"We're hiring someone if you ever wanna move that damn thing again."

Evan's smile splits across his face like the sun breaking over the horizon.

---

Christopher eyes the couch with suspicion.

"It's a lot bigger than your old ones," he finally manages, with a shifty glance between the two of them, and Tommy has to remind himself that Evan had gone down a rabbit hole of research trying to find the best way to clean leather once they'd finally gotten over themselves and proceeded with the making up part of their argument.

Eddie clocks the look running across his face, and makes a face at Evan. Evan tucks his tongue into his cheek, but he can't quite hide his grin, and Tommy tries not to imagine the next time they'll need to go furniture shopping.

---

"Can I admit something?" Evan asks, fingers shifting across the expanse of Tommy's chest, head tucked neatly beneath his chin.

Tommy hums, still half asleep, trying to ignore the crick in his neck and the wide expanse of his lower back that keeps sinking into the crack between the cushions.

Evan presses his lips lazily into the side of Tommy's neck. "I actually hate this couch. It's the worst."

Tommy laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more when Evan presses up on his elbow to pout straight into his face.

Tommy can't help but curl a palm around his jaw, ring and middle finger sliding up to cup his cheek, reaching for the marks at his brow. "Can we skip the torture of another horrendous shopping trip and just toss this one to the curb when I ask you to move in with me?"

He only stills for half a moment, eyes already bright and wide and happy before he nods. "When?" he repeats, all puppy enthusiasm as he buries his face back in Tommy's neck.

"Keep it to yourself, though, I haven't decided how I'm gonna ask. Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

Evan hums, fingers drifting down his arm, now - it's a familiar, teasing path that always drives Tommy a little wild, and - yep, they skate over his wrist, dancing right along the length of his fingers and down across his hip, little finger spreading wide towards his inseam.

---

Evan breaks his couch the first night all his things have been unpacked.

He makes a little pleased hum, low in his throat, when Tommy pulls up the same site he'd used to buy it, adds three to his cart, and passes the laptop off to Evan for opinions. Curls a warm hand around the back of Tommy's neck, presses his lips to the crown of Tommy's head. Tommy takes a moment to enjoy the feel of it.

"Pick one," he manages through gritted teeth when Evan nips at his earlobe.

"It's just a couch, babe, whichever one you want."

#buck x tommy #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #listen i'm not to the couch part in my binge yet i just caught it in an edit and this came out #911 fic

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riki-riks-chick · 2 days

Note

heyy im lwk dying for like a bsf jungwon thing rn… like maybe the border between bsfs and smth more is blurred.. u feel me

What Are We? ┃Y.JW

jungwon x reader

yn has all sorts of feelings for jungwon, but can't differentiate between platonic and romantic.

fluff! yn does jungwon's makeup, one kiss, no confession, questioning their relationship.

wdct: 1.1k

I'm usually not very good at vague relationships, but I think this is like the line between being bffs and being bf and gf. either way thnx for the request 💚

═════════════

Third Person POV~

For as long as you can remember, you've been friends with Jungwon. He's always been an important person in your life. So much so that you can't remember life without him or even imagine life without him.

He feels the same, you guys are attached at the hip and nothing could ever sever your connection.

Everyday is spent the same way. You guys meet up at school, and you have almost all your classes together. You always sit beside each other too, so people are convinced you two are secretly dating.

Every accusation is met with a simple "I'd never date him.." or a blatant "We're just friends." but sometimes you even question your closeness to the boy.

"Jungwon, are you coming over after school?" You ask, leaning against your locker as he goes through his. He closes it after grabbing his needed book. "I don't know.. My mom says she'll ground me if I don't study."

"We can study at my house." You pout and he smiles, pinching your cheek. "We both know that we don't get anything done when we study together. You'll just have to miss me today.."

The rest of the day, you're bored.. It's like being with Jungwon so much makes you blind to how little friends you actually have. He's always been everything for you...

Surprisingly, he comes to your house anyway after studying for a couple hours at home, and you immediately get so excited.

"Hey, remember how you still owe me for the homework I let you copy." You remind as he sighs. "What do you want?.. Wanna use me as a makeup dummy again?" He asks as you nod, getting off your bed and pulling him to sit on the stool at your vanity.

"I wanna try a makeup look for school tomorrow.. If it looks bad on you I won't do it.. If it looks good I'll wear it to school." You explain as he nodded. "Okay, just get it over with."

You start on his makeup, quickly realizing that your hands aren't as steady when you aren't sitting down. He notices and simply pats his lap. "Come on.." You're hesitant at first, but then you straddle his lap, focusing on doing his makeup.

Jungwon is forced to stare at you, your eyes, lips.. The way your hair frames your face is perfect too.. He loves being around you..

"You're making me nervous.. Stop staring." You blush, playfully slapping his chest as he laughs. "Sorry.. I was just admiring you.."

Your heart beats slightly faster at his words, cheeks flushing a deeper pink as you tried to ignore him. He can feel you shifting every second or so to keep yourself from sliding off his lap, so he puts his hands on your hips, trying to keep himself from reacting. You tense at the action.

"What are you doing?.." You ask as he chuckles nervously. "Oh, uh.. You were moving a lot and I figured it's because you were sliding off.. I just wanted to keep you still.." You simply nod, trying to ignore the slight fluttering feeling in your abdomen.

You're close to finishing Jungwon's makeup, starting on the lips, you sharpen your lip liner, cupping his jaw as you tug him closer, his face only a few inches from yours.

He decides to close his eyes to make it less awkward, but it only gets your imagination running. You're thinking of things you shouldn't be thinking of, things that you don't usually think about your best friend, but you can't help it. Sometimes it gets confusing, your relationship with Jungwon.

You didn't realize you had zoned out until Jungwon squeezed your hips. "You okay?.." He asks as you nod. "Sorry.. I was thinking about a different lip liner.."

"Did you wanna grab it?" He questions as you shake your head. "No this one is fine.." You cup his jaw again, leaning closer as you begin to line his lips. You can feel his chest rise and fall.. You can feel his hands grow slightly tighter on your hips.. You can feel his heart beat, and it's louder than your own.

You're wondering if he's thinking the same way you're thinking.. Feeling the way you're feeling.. But then again, you don't know how you feel.. Jungwon is your best friend.. You've never seen him as more than that, but you also can't live without him.. You miss him when he's away, and you can't go a day without at least calling or texting him when you don't get to see him.

The two of you can cuddle and hold hands shamelessly, give each other friendly kisses on the cheek and sometimes on the lips depending on the situation, and you know that he's your soulmate.

But then there's this anxiety that keeps your feelings in a complex.. Does Jungwon think of you the same way you think of him?.. You can't even sort out your thoughts towards Jungwon, but you hope he at least cherishes you the same way do cherish him.

You finish lining his lips, filling it in with one of your lip glosses as you smile. "All done.." You show him his reflection in the mirror and he smiles. "You should definitely do your makeup like this tomorrow.."

You nod in agreement, grabbing your makeup wipes as you begin to wipe the makeup off of his face. You start with the base, then you take off the makeup around his eyes, being sure to be gentle. Finally you clean off his lips.

"I can still taste the lip gloss.." He chuckles as you smile. "I don't remember it having a flavor." You mumble as he shrugs, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Doesn't it taste like strawberries?.."

You're too stunned to even think about the taste so you just nod. That's not the first time you've kissed Jungwon, but why did it erupt such emotion in you this time?.. Why did it make you mad to imagine him being this close with and kissing a different girl?

You finish cleaning off his makeup. Letting him wash his face and use your moisturizer before the two of you layed down on your bed, simply staring at the ceiling.

"Won?.." You call as he hums, turning to glance at you. "What are we?..." He goes quiet after your question, but then he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. "We're us.. And we'll continue to be us for the rest of our lives together.."

═════════════

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft headcanons #enhypen soft hours #enha soft hours #enha soft thoughts #jungwon soft hours #jungwon soft thoughts #jungwon imagines #jungwon fic #yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon enhypen

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blossom-hwa · 2 days

Text

manège | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre: fluff, a little angst and comfort, ballet dancer!taehyun and pianist!reader warnings: n/a word count: 1.4k notes: — this pairing's been on my mind for a good year or so, so I'm very happy to have finally written something for them :) please note that I've only been doing ballet for a couple years now, so if I've used any terms incorrectly, I'm very sorry! — for some clarification, mc and taehyun go to an arts school, and mc volunteers as one of the pianists for the ballet studio Taehyun finds his way back to you, again.

TXT Masterlist

manège: a classical ballet term for “circular,” which describes a series of steps done in a circular pattern around the stage

. . . . .

"...Taehyun?"

The question of his name is quiet enough that if he hadn't noticed the opening of the door in the corner of the mirror, he would have missed it. As it stands, his mind barely processes your voice emerging from behind the door, and it takes a moment to shake off the double tours and pirouettes before he can even recognize the face appearing in the mirror. He blinks sweat away from his eyes. "Y/N?"

"It's late," you say, stepping into the empty studio. "You're still practicing?"

As one, you both look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's long past eight, when Taehyun initially told himself he'd stop—long past nine, even.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion of the day seems to hit him at once. His muscles ache, sweat keeps dripping down his face no matter how much he wipes away, and there's a small but consistent flare of pain in his calf that he should really stop and massage out. Really, he wants nothing more than to just sit down against the wall, or maybe even flop onto the floor and stare at the ceiling while seeing nothing at all. He's been here since eight in the morning and his body clearly knows it.

"Yeah," is all he says in lieu of articulating all of this, though, because his throat feels gravelly and words are hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks instead. It's at least as fair of a question for you as yours was for him.

"I had class," you say. Taehyun takes in your leggings, the loose T-shirt almost covering your shorts, and remembers yes, there was a lower-level class held almost immediately after you got off your shift. "I stayed after to practice."

He frowns. "For almost five hours?" You were playing the piano for his company class until it ended at three. Your adult beginner class ends at four thirty, and it's past nine.

"Not ballet." You shift the weight of several books in your arms, and only then does Taehyun see their worn paper bindings, the music markings on the covers, and remember that people practice things besides dance. "Evaluations coming up. There was a free piano in one of the empty studios."

Ah. Taehyun nods. And then the room falls into silence again, broken only by the sounds of your breathing.

"So." You walk to the empty piano in the room, placing your books on the top before looking at him expectantly. "What are you working on?"

It takes him a moment to register your words, to understand that you're not telling him to leave or go home or get some rest. All of which he should do, but the looming specter of the showcase next week won't let him. "You're not going to tell me to go home and rest?" he asks regardless, and even though his throat squeaks a bit after spending so many hours in silence, you don't laugh. Not at that, anyway.

"Well, would you have gone home if I'd said you should?" you reply, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and a smile curves his lips when you give a little laugh. "See?"

"Point taken," he says, and when you laugh again he laughs too. "Grand Pas Classique," he answers your original question. "For the showcase. Next week."

Your mouth parts in a little 'o'. "This one?" you ask, playing out a short melody. He nods. "Can I see?"

He should. He shouldn't. He at once wants to but doesn't, wants to let the melody sing in his blood as he double tours and entrechats around the room, spinning and leaping across the floor, but he also knows that you're here. And if Taehyun is his own harshest critic, he becomes even harsher when someone else is in the room.

You look at him, though, and he looks at you, and he knows that you see him for himself. See the sweaty hair matted into clumps, see the muscles aching behind his skin, see the work put into every effortlessly pointed toe and graceful finger as he takes his beginning position in front of the mirror. And when the music begins to play, the melody spilling into his ears and then into his blood, he looks into the mirror and smiles not because he has to, but because your watchful eyes will never hold judgment. Will never hold disappointment. Will only ever see him, see Taehyun Kang the person and not Taehyun Kang the dancer, and will cherish him for it.

When he's done, the applause of one person cuts through the labored silence of his breathing, and it's enough to keep the smile on his face, to let his muscles finally relax, to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit down. Or—not really. He's still a little too wired to sit, but he leans against the wall of the studio and gestures to where you sit at the piano like it's the most natural position in the world, ready to play but not. "Show me something," he says when he has enough breath to speak. "What are you working on?"

There's a moment when you're flipping through your books, skimming pages filled with music and your careful notes, where Taehyun loses himself, for a moment, in you. When you squint at a few pages, then put the book back on top of the piano, then position yourself at the keys. The preparation—the careful placement of your fingers just as deliberate as his pointed toes and graceful hands—the moment where time holds still, before you give in to the song in your mind and your heart and allow the music to flow through your veins.

It all comes back to you, Taehyun thinks as your fingers waltz and whirl across the keys, dance in enchanting patterns of black and white. From him, to you, back to him and then to you again—in manège, arabesques and jetés leaping about the stage, coming away from the center only to reach it again the way everything always returns to you. Your voice, your music, always there. Always constant. Pulling him back to earth when he threatens to topple over the edge, never once wavering in your strength or patience even when you see the worst parts of him over and over.

He's sitting down by the time you stop playing, fingers gentle yet unyielding against the piano, coaxing a last, wavering echo from its depths before your hands rise, suspended in the air, then fall to your lap. When you look up, the fluorescent studio lights seem to burn your figure into his vision, like the afterimage of a lightning strike behind his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says, and he means it in more ways than one.

And you accept the praise in more ways than one, in the smile on your lips, in the twinkle in your eyes, in the moment where you sit down next to him, back against the wall, and let him lean his sweaty head on your shoulder with no complaint about how gross it must feel. "Thank you," you say, and when you do, the melody racing through his veins finally calms.

It's almost ten, now, the clock still ticking away on the wall. But you make no move to get up and neither does Taehyun, even when you murmur "Home?" in a voice that only makes him lean further into you, even when he makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. In the end, it takes nearly twenty minutes for you to finally pat his knee and say get up, Taehyun. And then he disappears to change and wash up and collect his things, and maybe in the shower he can feel himself beginning to fade away again, but then you're standing right outside the locker room and when he slips his hand into yours, he comes back to earth. Manège. Circling you, always. Leaving. Returning. Orbiting. Joining.

Music dancing through his blood and yours, a song that he will always be able to follow back home.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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moonstruckme · 2 hours

Note

roomate jamess 😭😭😭💓💓🤍😭😭💓

I agree !

part 1 │ part 2

roommate!james x shy!reader ♡ 733 words

James gets the text just as he arrives home: Are you hungry?

He grins, putting his car in park as he types out a reply.

I’m wounded. We’re coming up on our one-month anniversary, and you still don’t know I’m always hungry?

This makes a grand total of four texts between the two of you. You’d conversed a bit more on Craigslist before agreeing to let James move in with you, but barely. Your radio silence is much like your actual silence, but he’s happy to be making a dent in either.

Your response comes while he’s fishing his keys out of his pocket. Sorry. Want thai?

James laughs, opening the door and toeing off his shoes. He calls in the general direction of your room, “I hope you’re joking about being sorry.”

He’s hoping for maybe a reply via text, so it comes as a pleasant surprise when you appear on the stairs. You move like a ghost; if he put you and Remus in an old manor together, James is half sure it’d qualify as a haunted house.

You’re in your pajamas, which means you must already be done with work for the day. James has noticed this is one of your habits; once you’ve decided you’re staying in the house, your outside clothes hit the hamper and you’re living in fuzzy socks. These ones, standing halfway up the staircase, are blue with white stars. Something about seeing you in full cozy mode makes James’ stomach twinge.

“Do you want Thai?” you ask again, longer and in person. Several decibels quieter than he’d just been.

“Sure.” James gives you a smile, flopping backwards over the arm of the couch. He was going to cook pasta for dinner, but he’s a bit tired anyway and agreeing to the first bonding opportunity you’ve offered him takes precedence. “Do you wanna use my card, or should I pay you after?”

“Don’t.” You wave him off, already typing on your phone. “I’m getting it.”

“Not happening,” James replies. He starts digging in his pocket for his wallet, unearthing a half dozen gum wrappers and a receipt from last March. “But in theory, to what do I owe the honor?”

Your eyes flit to him, something like accusation in them. James feels his eyebrows lift. “I know you don’t have that many leftovers,” you say.

So, you’re onto him. “I cook a lot,” he replies with a shrug. “If there’s extra, someone should eat it.”

“But why not you?”

“Why not you?” he counters.

You look suspiciously as though you might be biting down on a smile. A real one. “The point is, I owe you at least a meal. Do you want to see the menu?”

“Sure, thanks.” He reaches out a hand. You come down the stairs to give him your phone, but once it’s in his hand your eyes narrow mistrustfully, fingers tightening on the device.

“If you try to pay,” you tell him, “I’ll hide the money in your room so you don’t find it until you move out.”

A laugh bubbles up out of him at your serious tone. “We live together, babe. I think I’ll come across it at some point.”

“Not with your room as messy as it is.”

Damn it, you’re right. “Fine.” James holds up his hands in surrender, credit card between his fingers. “But when I make dinner tomorrow, just eat it while it’s hot, yeah? Let’s do away with the pretense.”

You sigh through your nose, sitting down beside him with one leg curled under you. You’re attempting something that’s probably supposed to be a glare. James would hate to have to tell you how unintimidating it is, but he may if you keep it up much longer; it’s almost too adorable to take.

“I appreciate it, but you really don’t need to cook for me,” you say. “I eat plenty when you’re not here.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“That’s the point, James.” You roll your eyes, looking halfway amused. Shit, the day he actually makes you laugh he’s gonna have to bake a cake. “You’re not here to see it.”

“Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?” He passes you back your phone, having added his order to your cart. “They’ve just added a slew of new movies to Netflix. Also, for tomorrow, do you prefer pasta or chicken?”

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moonlit-imagines · 2 days

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Broken Curse

Peter Parker x reader

warnings:

a/n: idk this was supposed to be an entirely different fic when i started but now its very different

prompt:

Peter always held himself back. Everyone could see it. Everyone except him.

All those wasted opportunities because of those powers, but that’s all he thought he was good for now. He could have been so much more if he didn’t dedicate himself to Spider-Man. Right now he could be in college or working a job ehere he could make a real difference. But instead, he was living all on his lonesome in some run-down apartment, a ghost of his former self.

So now no one saw him. No one saw how much he held himself back because no one ever noticed him. In his new life, he kept to himself. No people to disappoint with his lost potential, no one noticed him anymore and maybe that was for the best.

You were in his thoughts, though. Mourned daily and nightly in regret of his mistakes. He sat there connecting all those things that went wrong. From becoming Spider-Man to an Avenger, trusting people he shouldn’t have, taking shortcuts and wasting precious time. He lost you and everyone he ever loved.

What hurt him most was seeing you from time to time, but as luck would have it, you’d managed to move into his building. A fate worse than death for Peter.

“Y/N?” He asked in the hallway without realizing. A stranger had just called to you.

“I…I’m sorry, do I know you?” You chuckled, which Peter knew was a nervous habit and you were a bit uncomfortable.

“N-No. Sorry.” He paused. “I was guessing. Not guessing your name, that’d be weird. The landlord told me about a new neighbor, I haven’t seen you yet so I was assuming that was you. Y/N, right?” Peter rambled out a reasonable lie to convince you he wasn’t a stalker. Maybe he was, he didn’t know if it counted when magic spells were involved.

“Oh. I guess that makes more sense.” You shrugged. “Yes, I’m y/n…and you are..?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.” He gave an awkward introduction. “Apartment 20.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Peter.” You told him. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to do some unpacking.” You began to walk away, but Peter was desperate to keep this going. He hadn’t spoken to you in months, and although you may not know who he is in this moment, he was the boy you fell in love with and he still loved you with all his heart.

“If, uh, you need some help moving anything, I’ll be here.” He timidly offered. You stopped in your tracks and took a moment to think.

“Actually, I could use some help with some furniture. The movers just left everything in my living room.” You explained and he smiled. “What?”

“You have a living room?” He laughed and you joined in, catching that his apartment was probably a bit smaller than your own. “I can definitely help you with all that, lead the way.” He was a bit disappointed you’d accept help from a stranger so easily, but he didn’t know that something felt familiar about him. You just felt he was trustworthy and genuine. That was it.

You’d initiated some small talk while moving the couch to the correct wall, the bed frame and mattress to the bedroom, and some shelves and tables wherever they might go, maneuvering around heaps of boxes labeled with all sorts of goofy writing. He liked the “BEDROOM BULLSHIT” box the most. But as he moved around your relatively nicer apartment, he noticed a stuffed animal that had fallen on the floor. A stuffed animal he had actually gotten for you several years ago. “Hey,” he picked the little bear up, “this was just laying on the floor. Cute.” Peter commented in some unsuspecting way.

“Oh, yeah, I can’t even remember where I got that thing. I’ve had it forever, can’t bring myself to get rid of it. It’s too cute to get rid of anyways, look at him.” You reached for the bear in his hand and when your hand connected with its soft fur, you felt an overwhelming sensation, this sickness inside as your head began spinning.

“Are you okay? Y/N?” Peter urgently asked, hesitant to make any startling movements. Your gaze jolted back to him and there was a much different look in your eyes than in the moments before. Softer.

“This can’t be real.” You mumbled. “It was you all along.”

“What?” He had no idea how to respond.

“Peter Benjamin Parker.” You spoke his full name. “I love you.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

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lovecolibri · 1 day

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The only thing I'm going to say about this (<- probably lying) is that it doesn't matter how Buck felt in that scene. Because Buck isn't real and doesn't actually have feelings. What DOES matter is how it comes across to the audience. And if the vast majority of the audience had an "what the fuck is this and why is it happening like this?" reaction and that was NOT the intention of the scene? Then it wasn't done well.

You should not have to come out after the episode and explain what the scene was supposed to do. If you have to, then you have failed in your job to get across to the writers, directors, and actors what the point and purpose is. And maybe you have failed to take into account what the characters are like, their trauma histories, and how the audience might react given their knowledge of the characters involved.

A lot of people never forgave tay kay for what she did to Bobby in s2, and then having Buck Begins give us this raw, vulnerable version of Buck and his childhood only to have her lash out a couple of eps later calling him "needy" and a bad friend because he asked something of her instead of just being there to give her whatever she wanted? It's no surprise fans and the general audience never got on board with that relationship. Because it wasn't good to BUCK and that's what the audience wants.

I am personally continually BAFFLED that this show gives these moments of gentle teasing and support and validation of Buck's feelings (even when he can overreact a little out of trauma response) to Eddie, and then continually put Buck in romantic relationships with people that don't even seem to LIKE him, much less adore all his quirks and the things that make him BUCK, and most importantly, the things the AUDIENCE loves about him.

It's.....it's almost like Tim isn't even trying. Because the audience isn't SUPPOSED to like these relationships for Buck. Because they aren't the right ones for him. Because we all know who is.

But also, at some point it starts getting questionable as to why the people that love him don't speak up to express concern about him staying in long term relationships with people that are not nice to him. We all know the bait-and-switch of tay kay in s4 being a FOX network call to shut down what Tim wanted to do, and then he left the show with someone who doesn't like, see, or care about Buddie (or really any of the main characters that aren't Angela to live out some revenge fantasy or Buck to live out...other fantasies). So they couldn't very well have all of the firefam desperately asking Buck if he was even happy as he wasted away in that loft all season, or even allow them to be kinda pissed he would choose to be with someone like that who nearly got Bobby killed by not telling someone immediately and interviewing him without consent, but it never sat right with me that it was all just never addressed and they had them breakup on good terms (sorry not sorry but if you think T*mmy isn't nice to Buck, tay kay was worse in every way and thats canon fact).

So I don't have super high hopes that they will address this clear and obvious disconnect with Buck and T*mmy, but considering they made a point to have nearly all their screentime revolve around Eddie, and them not meshing as a couple it would be weird NOT to. Then again, *gestures to all that rambling above*

ANYWAY

The point it, at SOME point the audience does have to be a consideration because without an audience you do not have a show. So Tim needs to shake off the last of the Lone Star cobwebs, get KR the fuck out of the writers room, and make sure his intentions for scenes are ACTUALLY what make it onto the screen, and that what is on screen is stuff that will resonate positively with the audience. Maybe he should rewatch the first 3 seasons of the show himself to get back into the groove.

#911 #evan buckley #anti bucktommy #anti taylor kelly #i have not had my coffee yet ignore me #i just had to get it out so my brain would shut up about it

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yooglefics · 2 days

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Intentions don’t mean much.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!partner Wordcount: 670 words Genre: Angst. Hurt / comfort. Established relationship. Song drabble. Summary: Yoongi is having some bad days and, in the end, deciding to keep it to himself to not worry his partner is not the best idea. More info under read more.

Includes: Mentions of bad mental health, implied depression. Nothing too dark but Yoongi overthinks a lot. Lack of communication. Author's note: A little drable inspired by The Craving ( Jenna's version ) because I just had to write something after listening to it. Is pretty short but I kind of like it as is, because it can be read with the song in the background uwu. Hope you like it! If you do please remember to leave a reblog, like, follow, comment or send an ask, donate on ko-fi and what not. As always, thank you for reading <3

He is scared of putting too much weight on her shoulders, of driving her crazy because of his thoughts, and fears; the problems in his head, the ones that don't even have anything to do with her.

On bad days he tries to be reassuring. Holding her hand while sharing a cup of coffee and cuddling with her on the couch. Yes, it’s a bit selfish because it does good to him too, knowing she is with him even when his psyche reminds him of the possibility that they, too, are part of something temporary. That it could end sooner than expected, which is not much to say since he doesn't want it to end at all.

Is not that he doesn't believe she loves him, of course not. He believes everything she says, even the little conspiracy theories she rambles about at night in their bedroom. But, his brain tells him, life is unpredictable and the world goes around and around and around and…

When it gets too bad he spends most hours of the day in his studio. Even sleeps (or at least tries to) there. She brings him lunch and he kisses her cheek or forehead, sweetly and full of love. An attempt to not worry her.

Some nights, as he lays on the leather couch, he hopes she will knock on the door, looking for him and asking him to come to bed. He would say yes, even if that meant just playing with her hair as she fell asleep on his chest while he lays with his eyes open and his mind never shooting down.

But it doesn’t happen.

Is still dark outside when he hears her socket steps against the wooden floors, the beeps and trumps of the coffee machine following close behind, and he decides to join.

“Isn't it too early for coffee?” he asks, leaning in the doorway.

“Is six, just one hour early.”

“Oh.”

“How did you sleep?”

He keeps quiet, a bit confused with himself as to how he didn't realize so much time passed.

“Did you sleep?” She asks instead, tone different this time and he doesn't like something in it.

“Don't worry about it.” He tries to dismiss, coming closer and wrapping his arms around her waist, chin resting on her shoulder while they wait for the melancholy sounds announcing their beverage is ready.

But a sniff comes instead.

It takes a second for his tired brain to register it, yet is quick to react when she tries to move away, hugging her firmly against his chest. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Is silly.” she murmurs back.

“Tell me anyway?”

“Is just… after so long, I don’t know a lot about you still. And I wish I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry about it. I don’t know what just—”

“Hey,” he softly calls out, turning her around as he looks for her gaze, “don’t apologize for it. Is on me, I’m going through some shit but I’m okay.”

She worries her lip between her teeth before asking, “Have you slept at all in the last few days?”

“A little bit.” Pretty vague, not wanting to bring concern around his insomia. But her eyes get glossy again and his open in surprise. In realization that doing that is what is upsetting her. He hates that. “I slept a couple hours yesterday after lunch, maybe that’s why I’m still awake.”

“You aren't tired then?”

A different kind, he thinks. And considers answering that while she fixes his head, but he still isn't sure. “Maybe you just need to do that for a while so I don't wake up until tomorrow.”

That makes her smile and her eyes fall to his again. But is hard to ignore the bags under them and the bigger issues. “I'm going to the store later, I'll bring you that tea we saw the other day. We can drink that before going to bed and see if it helps. Deal?”

“Deal.”

♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @sexytholland , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @itsmina29 , @nariee02 , @ktownshizzle .

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valley-of-headcanons · 2 days

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If I can request, you did the way the bachelorettes react to ex-stardom. I enjoyed it so much and would love to see it for the bachelors too?

I love your writings ;u; ♡

bachelors reacting to your ex-stardom || headcanons

being in the limelight was fun for a while, but settling down is definitely what you needed. but how would your partner react to your past? part one here!

warnings: nothing that i can see! :)

requested by: anon! hii, thank you so much for the request! this topic is pretty interesting, and i really enjoyed writing for everyone! be sure to check out part one, it adds a little more context and i think it's super duper cool and you're definitely missing out. anyway! hope you enjoy :)

alex

• You and Alex were on the beach, resting after tossing around the Gridball. He got on the topic of his dream of playing Gridball professionally, and how although he wanted to make it big and turn his passion into a profession, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He's been such a shut-in these last few years, only really hanging out with you and his grandparents. The fame sounds so scary. But ... you knew that all too well. He didn't know that, though. Maybe it was time.

• You slowly told Alex that you knew a lot about being famous, before explaining who you were. “Wait- what?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I love your music! Genuinely, like I listen to it all the time ... I know it's not really the manliest choice and it's my guilty pleasure- not to say men shouldn't listen to your music! Oh my yoba- sorry- ... I love your music. That's what I'm trying to say. It's really really good.”

• As you explained why you left the limelight, Alex nodded understandingly. “Yeah, Gridball will always be a dream of mine, but the people I'd be around are probably not good. Maybe staying in the town isn't such a bad idea, huh? I don't think anyone could really beat hangin' with you, grandma, and grandpa.”

• Alex soon opened up about which of your songs was his favorite, and asked in depth about them. There were some that really spoke to him emotionally, and he had a really bad time dealing with that sort of stuff. The fact that you created something he relates to makes him happier than ever! He scored pretty good, if he says so himself.

• Regardless of your old fame, he's still deeply in love with you. He admires your talent, but that doesn't overshadow how you've helped him in his life since you've actually been in it. He will still listen to your music, but maybe a little more publicly. He wouldn't tell anyone unless you said it was okay, but he'd totally be bragging about you if he were allowed.

elliott

• Elliott was not having a great writing session. He invited you over, incredibly stumped with his latest novel. He was bouncing ideas off of you left and right, but nothing would stick! You mentioned that music could be an inspiration, and it was like a lightbulb smacked him in the forehead. He raced over to his stereo and turned on the radio. A cheese-y pop tune ... YOUR cheese-y pop tune. He was embarrassed over the pop playing and immediately turned it, but he did notice your expression and inquired.

• You explained that the song on the radio was a song that you wrote and sang yourself. He was startled at first. “I didn't know we had such a big star in our midst! Are those your lyrics as well? I didn't pin you as such a wonderful writer, but I am so grateful! Someone that shares my writing prowess! I knew some invisible string brought us together!”

• As you continue to explain your past and why you came out to Pelican Town, Elliott nods along, hearing your story. “I didn't realize how similar we are. I understand wanting to get away from it all, that's why I'm out here as well. I suppose you came here to get away from your work, and I came to get closer to it. How awfully poetic that is, don't you think?”

• He asked a lot of questions, really diving deep into your mind. Of course, he only asked if you were comfortable with it. He loved analyzing people's minds, especially if they were different from his own. He may or may not use some of these aspects of your life in his new novel. With your permission, of course. You've always been his biggest muse.

• Elliott is invested in your life, like any good partner should, and admires your creative talent. This only heightens his view of you, as you are an artist, just like him. Despite the different mediums, you two share a lot in common. He would love you regardless of this aspect, but this only draws you two closer.

harvey

• Harvey was giving you a check-up, which was a bit unethical now that you were dating, but eh. He's the only doctor in the town and he's very worried about your health. He noticed that you mentioned a previous injury when checking your knee reflexes. This injury has occurred in a rehearsal for one of your tours. You didn't want to lie to your sweet boyfriend, so you had to admit the truth.

• As he wrote on his clipboard your reasoning, he stopped for a moment. “Tour? Popstar? Is this one of your sarcastic comments that I'm not getting? ... oh, really? You've never mentioned that part of your life before. Please, if you want to open up about it, show me some of your work once we get home. I hate to admit, but I'm fairly curious,” he said with a soft, caring smile.

• When you two get home after the checkup, he starts to cook dinner. “Please, keep me company while I cook. If you'd like to share some stories ... well, only if you're comfortable with it, I know that you got away from fame for a reason, but ... I want to know that part of your life, just like I know this one. Indulge me, if you would, my love.”

• He tries his best to support this part of your life, even if he wasn't involved. He ends up purchasing a lot of your old music and keeping a collection, showing it as a sign of affection. He listens to it while he does household chores, humming along to your songs happily while you're away.

• Harvey didn't mind this aspect of your life. It was another thing that made you the person he loves. He listens to everything you say and pays attention, specifically to the parts of fame you enjoyed and didn't enjoy. He only asked about the stuff you liked, and allowed you to open up about the hard times on your own, when you were ready. He was incredibly careful about the whole thing, and wouldn't dare make you uncomfortable.

sam

• As you and Sam were relaxing in his room one day, he was fiddling with his guitar. He seemed super stumped, strumming random chords to try and make some sense. Nothing was working ... he eventually showed you something that sounds sort of functional? But this rhythm was VERY similar to a song you put out a long time ago. You let out a soft giggle, which left Sam confused. You had to explain now.

• You drop the fact that you were a popstar in a nonchalant manner, trying to make it not a huge deal. But it's Sam. Of course it's a big deal. “No. Fucking. WAY! You're kidding, you've gotta be fucking with me! And you didn't tell me?! For SHAME! As punishment, you've gotta tell me all about it and I will refuse to change the topic. Now SPILL!”

• You explained who you are and why you left everything behind, which Sam thought about for a moment. “Wow ... I never really bought about fame that way. That must've been a lot, and I really do get why you came all the way down here. I'm just glad you're here now, y'know? ... but if you do end up getting the itch to create some music again, with no strings attached to fame, I'm always here. I'd love to create somethin' sick with you.”

• Sam always asked questions about the parts of fame he didn't know much about. Did you go to any parties? Was this person actually chill or were they a dick? He was so curious and asked probably the weirdest questions imaginable, but they were refreshing. And if you weren't the first person Sam showed his music to before, you were now. He always asked for your approval, and asked how to improve. It was extremely sweet.

• Even though he was excited about everything you had presented to him, he tried his best to be respectful. If you asked him to stop, he would with a nod and a quick apology, giving you a small kiss before putting the topic to bed. He still loved you for you! This aspect about you is just so cool and interesting to him. He adores you regardless, and wouldn't trade the current version of you for anyone else.

sebastian

• Sebastian had just finished working for the day and needed to relax. He flopped down on his couch and pressed the button on his radio. The pop station came on, and he was about to turn it before you walked in. You were shocked to hear your own song playing, staring at him with wide eyes. He makes some sarcastic comments about how this is actually his music taste and you just don't understand him. He doesn't understand why you're so shocked, though.

• As you slowly drop the bomb, he lets out a little chuckle. “Hah. Funny. You can drop the act, I can tell you're fuckin' with me ... are you really a world renowned superstar with several albums with hundreds of chart toppers? Like I believe that! Why the hell would you choose Pelican Town of all places to live, huh? This is the type of town you need to run away from.”

• You eventually have to explain why you left, why that lifestyle really wasn't you. He's actually at a loss for words for a moment, before nodding. “I didn't expect that out of you, you really are full of surprises. Tell me more, if you wanna. I'd be willing to listen. If you don't wanna talk about all that shit though, it's fine. Whatever you wanna do,” he said with a welcoming smile.

• Your music was FAR from what Sebastian listened to commonly. His Radiohead collection can attest for that. But ... he decided to take a listen to your music. He's very picky usually, so this is a pretty good feat. He actually kind of enjoyed it, for once. Maybe you're leading him down the path of liking something that's not edgy. Hmm. That's nice.

• Sebastian found this part of you incredibly interesting, but he didn't ask many questions. If you wanted him to know, he would, and he respected that. He loves hearing you talk about anything that you're passionate about, or just hearing you talk in general. It's arguably one of his favorite past times.

shane

• You and Shane were sitting by the pier one night. This was Shane's safe spot, attempting not to start drinking again. You two spent several afternoons sitting under the glow of the stars with an old cassette player and some of Shane's favorite songs. One of these nights, he mentioned that his childhood dream was to be an actor, and how weird fame seemed. He would hate being famous ... and you did too. This would be a perfect time to drop this bomb.

• You mentioned your past to Shane, but he brushed it off. “Uh huh. And I'm actually a famous bowler but I fucked up my arm and now I'm destined to live the rest of my life in this little shit hole. Oh, my poor dreams. How sad,” he said, his dry humor biting with sarcasm. He noticed your facial expressions ... they weren't sarcastic. “... I'm sober right? You didn't spike my drink or somethin' and you're tryin' to fuck with me ... huh. Now that's a topic.”

• You explained everything, mainly about why you came back here. You figured Shane wouldn't really know much about who you were, that's not his type of music anyway. “Huh. Nice. I figured you were just some corporate big league who got tired of the white walls. A lot of things make a lot more sense, I guess. You're a lot more talented than I thought ... sorry, that was mean- let me rephrase ... you are talented. I really am tryin' to get better about that ...”

• Shane didn't ask much about it further, but would listen if you brought it up again. He ended up stumbling across your work ... it was way better than he imagined. Maybe because it was you. It was a source of comfort to him, and he often listened to your beautiful voice when he was in a dark time. It helped him through a lot.

• He didn't mind your past, you had a lot less skeletons in your closet than he did. He liked hearing your voice, so it was a win-win. He got this down-to-Earth side of you that he enjoys being around, but he can also listen to his star-studded partner whenever he wants. He wouldn't tell you that, though. That's his little secret.

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what-even-is-thiss · 6 hours

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Hey Roman, just wanted to give you some of the ways we us to talk about people from the US in Spanish. Context: I’m Puerto Rican so this can vary from country to country. Not only that a further disclaimer that I am a supporter of independence for my country and lean very much into some of our more extreme parties on that side so even other Puerto Ricans will have their own ways.

So, in the case of a lot of us who support independence there is a concerted effort to not say Americans or Americanos exactly for what you said, we are all of the Americas. In Spanish you can from estadounidense, to maybe using states (es newyorkino, es floridiano), to gringo which can be anything from a silly name to an insult depending on the tone and context, to yanqui (a Spanish spelling of Yankee) which almost always is said in a derogatory sense (yanqui go home is a big slogan here). In English we don’t have that level of variety, but we try. People will use states, gringo and yanqui in the same ways as Spanish, or will just outright say “people from the US” or similar long winded ways of saying it (US people, in the US, those from/in the US, etc) because its about the principle.

People in the circles I am in politically even say like its a pity that people from the US don’t have a way to talk about themselves and wonder if that plays a role in the identity issues there is of extremists in the US. Like maybe never having something to rally under like the rest of the countries has broken something and now they need to control all the Americas cause they see only themselves as American. It’s one of the best examples of how intricate language is to identity and why here in PR we refuse and have refused any tries to eliminate our Spanish.

Anyways, sorry for this long winded ask that feels like it says nothing. love seeing you work so hard on learning Spanish, it can be a hassle and I say that with all the love I have for it. I’ve been bilingual my whole life (you don’t really have a choice here in PR) and teach English so I know how hard it is to juggle those two particular languages! Sigue adelante y como decimos en Puerto Rico, pa’ atras ni pa’ coger impulso.

I appreciate all of this and I don’t wanna take away from the information that you’re kindly providing to me but I also find it so funny that some people think we don’t have a shared identity as a country just because we call ourselves Americans. That issue that they’re talking about just doesn’t exist in English.

Also personally I see Puerto Ricans as fellow Americans (as in the country) because they are legally so that’s good enough for me but I also understand that issues of identity can be complicated over there.

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 3 days

Text

A/N ::: 😳. Iiiii ... Ok. So I'm never this creative to think of such things like ... oh, idk. Kafka likes to roleplay with his girl - kinda fucked up things. Like, being a little rough in bed. Both ways - roughing and being roughed up. Idk. I just totally see him being the best fucking husbando/boyfriendo ever. Sorry Draken, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, oh god, and Baji. ANYWAY. Yeah. This Kafka stuff just keeps oozing from my fingers and I'm in no hurry to stop. I hope you guys enjoy this!

C/W ::: Roleplay (on the rougher side - not violent, per se - but not like petting a kitten either ... no pun intended), unprotected P->V, hands-on stuff, a little tossing of the other person around but like I said, I don't think it's like, too too rough. You've read this far, heed the warning if you think this won't be for you =). That's why we put them here!

WC ::: Under 1,200 (I'm coming back around, you guys!!)

MDNI UNDER THE CUT PLEASE, THANK YOU.

You bite your bottom lip as Kafka growls against your skin. His words and his tone are harsh, but his touch … it’s painfully soft. The slight pressure of his mouth, the rasp of his tongue against the sensitive skin of your neck. It makes your stomach flutter, and your eyes roll back.

He breathes heavily against you as he moves his mouth lower, to your shoulder, then down, across your collarbone and back up again.

"You're sending me really, really mixed signals here, Kafka. You're mouth is literally saying one thing while your body does another."

"You don't say," he says.

"I do say."

He huffs and lifts his head to look you in the eyes, his own dark, pupils blown wide. "What do you want me to say?" he says, his voice low, rough. "That I like you?

"I mean, yeah. That would be nice. But maybe a little consistency first?"

"I like you," he says, "But I also hate you. So I don't know. What should I do?"

You try to shimmy away from him but his grip just tightens and there's no way you can get out of his arms.

He leans in, his breath tickling your ear and you shiver. "Do you want me to let you go?" he whispers.

"What I want is ..." You sigh, "What I want," you say slowly, "Is for you to get over yourself." You take a deep breath. "I know that you want me, at the very least. Why are you being so gentle and rough with me at the same time?"

He huffs. "It's complicated," he says. "I like you. I do. And .... But ..."

"But what?" You ask.

"But nothing. It's not important."

He looks down again at your body pressed into the mattress. His hands sliding down your shoulders to your elbows.

You try to wiggle your wrist free from his large hand. You want to grab him by the chin and make him look you in the eye, but he still has an unreasonably tight grip on you.

He glances at you through his lashes, his mouth curled into a devious smirk. "You want something, little one?"

You shout, "That's it! That's it! I've had enough of your patronizing. You're gonna get it now, Kafka."

You can feel your temperature rise and your willpower falter. Mustering every tiny little ounce of strength you have in your much smaller body you flip him over so he's on his back. Though you have a feeling that he went willingly. You don't care though. You're just happy that the tables have turned - in your favor, too.

For now, anyway.

You squat over him on the bed and straddle his torso, placing your knees on either side of his ears, careful not to put too much pressure on his chest.

He laughs at you and asks why you're not putting your full weight down on him. "You think you're gonna hurt me, you little fly."

You see him smile at you, a sharp-toothed grin. "Come on," he says, "You're not going to hurt me. I want you to give it your best shot, though. G'head."

You lean forward, putting your full weight on him and he laughs. "Oh-hoh, now you've done it," he says. "You should not have done that."

The laughter stops and his eyes narrow as you press your hand to his cheek, running your thumb across his bottom lip. He leans forward, trying to bite at your fingers and you pull your hand away, making him growl again. This time in frustration, you’re sure of it.

You place your hand on his throat, pushing him back down onto the bed.

"Enough," you say, your voice low, barely more than a whisper. "It's time to stop playing around."

His eyes widen as you lean in, pressing your mouth against his. He stiffens at first, but then relaxes, his mouth opening under yours.

His tongue brushes against your lips, and you open for him, your own tongue meeting his.

You can taste the sweetness of his mouth, and the taste makes you hungry for more. You press closer, your teeth clicking together as you try to deepen the kiss.

Kafka wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as you continue to kiss. You feel his cock harden against your thigh and you moan.

You press your hips down, rubbing against him, his cock sliding against your pussy through the thin black lace of your underwear.

You break the kiss, panting, your body is on fire.

Kafka groans as you begin to rock your hips, grinding your pussy harder yet against his cock.

"Fuck," he whispers, his eyes glazed over, his lips swollen from your kiss.

You reach between you, grabbing his cock, squeezing it tightly as you stroke it, your hand sliding up and down his shaft.

"Do you want me?" you ask, leaning in, your lips brushing against his.

"Yes," he says, his voice rough, his breathing ragged. "Fuck yes."

"Then," you say, kissing him deeply. "take me, Kafka."

An animalistic sound escapes his throat as he flips you over onto your back, his body pressing you down into the bed.

You moan as he pushes his cock inside you, stretching you open. He fills you completely, his cock buried to the hilt in your pussy.

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and steady as he fucks you, his cock sliding in and out of you. Your walls squeeze him tightly.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you rock your hips, meeting his offerings.

You look up at him, face flushed.

He looks down at you, his expressions are intense, but he never shifts his focus. His movements become harder, faster. Almost desperate in his attempt to navigate this fare.

You gasp as you feel him hit just the right spot, making your vision blur. You dig your nails into his back, clinging to him as your orgasm hits you like a surprise wave. Despite knowing full well what the outcome of this would be, the result never ceases to amaze you.

He never ceases to amaze you.

Kafka groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. As he fucks you through your orgasm, he approaches his own.

He slams his cock into you one last time, his body going rigid as he begins to cum, his cock pulsing heavily as he fills you with all he's got.

You cling to him, your bodies pressed together, your heart racing as you both come down from the almost violent release of energy.

Kafka rests his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.

"You are amazing," he whispers. "Absolutely … fucking ... amazing."

You smile and kiss him softly, your fingers stroking his cheek. "I almost believed you for a minute there, Kaf. Your growly voice is super sexy, but my god. I thought you were a little pissed for a second. Let's do this again. Soon, mm?"

You lift his chin to take stock of his face and you know you'll never tire of seeing his kind eyes looking back at you. "Hey, I love you, you know."

You can't see it, but you're pretty sure he's blushing. The heat radiating from his face against your shoulder washed up like a sunrise; It was slow, but you felt every little prickle of warmth overtake everything it touched.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin.

"I love you too," he whispers. "You know I do. You know I'll never stop, yeah?"

You smile and close your eyes, letting the near total darkness of the room wrap you both up in a blanket of promises.

@southside-otaku @kazutora-kurokawa @katkusuo

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@arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82 @bakubunny

#kafka hibino #kafka hibino smut #kafka hibino x reader #kafka x reader #hibino kafka #kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kn8 smut #kafka x you #kafka x y/n #kn8 x reader #kn8 x you #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 anime #kafka smut #kaiju no 8 anime #kaiju no 8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #holy f- need this man to pin me down and give me what for - be like how was that too rough too soft give me feedback #though i don' need it #he's become the man of my dreams even when i'm awake - i should check myself in to our cute lil psych hosp and rewire my brain cuz damn son #down bad for this one #fell hard but thats ok #yeah i realize how nuts i sound #knowing is half the battle #right #RIGHT?#i hope you guys like reading this as much as I liked writing it #and hahahahahahahahah #you ppl out there who like to bitch can't get on my ass cuz he's 32!!!!!!! ALREADY OLD BITCHES!!!!!

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