#so in a round about way this was really cathartic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr was the first site to host the blog for President Barack Obama in 2011.

#so in a round about way this was really cathartic

moumouton4 · 8 months

Text

Hard And Fast || Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader

A/n : Prompt 9 of the Smutember 2023

The list of promps is HERE

Smutember 2023 Masterlist ⚜

Warnings : oral fem!receiver, rutting, rough sex, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 761

You always wonder how you even managed to go from him not being able to look at you in the eyes to him being buried deep inside you as he spills his warm seed as he reaches his climax. He had a stressful nature that kept him from enjoying life most of the time. That's probably why one day he threw it all away, resulting in your first time together - and for him, probably the first first time ever.

You soon discovered that your sessions were a cathartic moment for him after a long, stressful day. But this wasn't always the case. One round wasn't enough when his days were particularly trying, and often the sessions extended to 2 or 3 rounds. Indeed, he had a lot more stamina than anyone would have thought.

That's what prompted you to ask him one day

"I was wondering" you began his gaze settled on you for a moment before flickering back to the walls of your dorm "instead of doing several rounds at a slow pace" he was already choking at your words "why not do just one but hard and fast ?" your idea came from the fact that sometimes you didn't necessarily have the time or the energy to last several rounds.

Your question came at just the right time indeed, after the exam day you'd had, it seemed the perfect moment to initiate some lovemaking.

Nothing changed in your foreplay. He licked your pussy shyly but with still some experience as he gently rutted his hardness against the bed. He wasn't really the type to talk during sex, but today as he was nestled inside your warm cunt, he couldn't help but think again about what you'd said a moment before. He wanted to make sure he had your green light, because the idea - apart from making him redder than ever - had piqued his interest.

"Y-Y/n... d-do you erm r-really meant what y-you said e-earlier ?" his voice was husky as it rarely was, it felt that the idea had excited him.

"If you want and it helps, yes. Besides, it would introduce us to a new pace" you said, winking in his direction, he averted his gaze almost instantly. But your words had reassured him. You could feel it in the way he clung to you, forcefully, out of stress, and not because of you, but above all because he knew he was about to throw himself into the unknown "A-alright"

Softly you felt him drag his cock out slowly, his grip on your hips tightened as he braced himself up to- "Ooh T-Tamaki" you moaned surprised at the force with which he sank into you, clearly bottoming out. His high-pitched squeal sounded like the pleas of someone who was overstimulated.

After a moment's pause, he began again, slowly dragging his cock out and slamming in back inside you, where it belonged. Little by little, he increased the pace until he was at the point of fucking you hard and fast. Your legs wrapped around his hips as he continued to pound you relentlessly. His balls slapped against your ass as the room filled with lewd noises that usually would have knocked him out on the spot.

With each thrust he let out little noises, from light grunts to whimpering. He tried to nestle his face in your neck but couldn't find enough air, so he pressed his forehead against yours. As your noses grazed you puckered your lips to give him soft kisses. Surprisingly enough, your affection and the face you were doing gave him confidence in the moment. He knew you were feeling good. That he was making you feel good.

Your nails dug into his back, leaving long red lines. And as if overwhelmed by all that was happening, he finally reached his long awaited climax. He almost screamed, as his cock pumped you full of cum. His breathing was panting and wheezing, as he had just experienced the most intense orgasm of his life. His body rested on yours as if he no longer had the strength to lift a single limb.

“Y-you okay Tamaki ?” you asked, waiting to ensure his comfort. He nuzzles his face against you “I-I’m tired” he whispered against your cheek. He was currently feeling particularly cuddly. But this proved to you that you were right, with him, several rounds at slow speed were equivalent to a single round at full speed. Though there was a little problem on the menu this is going to get you both addicted.

#my hero academia #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia smut #mha #mha imagine #mha smut #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagine #boku no hero academia smut #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki imagine #tamaki amajiki smut #tamaki x reader #tamaki smut #smut #smutember 2023 #miri-writes

2K notes · View notes

f6bron · 6 months

Text

sequoia.

pairing : iso x gn!reader

notes : mutual pining ? i’ll let the audience decide , might be ooc since i wrote this based on all of his available voicelines so far ( . — . )

The echoing clang of bullets hitting metal targets reverberated through the shooting range as you took aim alongside Iso, the new recruit to the Valorant Protocol. You’d been itching to get to know him better, and what better way to break the ice then some target practice?

“Clean shot! I should let Chamber know he has a rival now.”

Iso shrugged and chuckled, as an acknowledgement to your compliment.

“So, Iso… I heard you isolate your enemy into that domain of yours? Interesting…” you remarked, keeping your eyes trained on the target as you shot a bullet straight to the head.

Iso nodded shyly, his fingers still gripping the handle of his pistol.

“Y-yeah… Just my way to secure a 1v1 duel…”

Oh, what the hell am I saying, Iso thought, mentally facepalming at his awkward response. He felt silly for acting awkward in front of you. To be honest, he finds you really, really beautiful. Maybe that’s the reason.

But to his surprise, you merely gave him a soft smile.

“That is sooo freaking cool ~! Can you bring me there someday?” you asked, your tone playful and light.

Iso was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Why would I bring you there? I don’t think having a gun duel with an ally there is a good idea–”

You giggled, which interrupted his words. “Not in a gun duel, silly. I just wanna know what it looks like in the dimension.”

Warmth crept onto Iso’s face, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment at having misunderstood your context. “O-oh… Yeah, sure. I hang out a lot there even though there’s nothing much… Mostly when I need alone time to read my books or… listen to music.”

“And, having company once in a while would be nice.” He smiled, his eyes glanced at you.

“Mhmm, then I’ll be waiting ~” you replied, your curiosity piqued. You adjusted your stance, firing a few more rounds with precise accuracy.

“Oh ! Talking about music,” you continued, gesturing to the earbuds that Iso always had whenever you saw him. “I always see you got your earbuds on all the time. I assume you’re a music enthusiast, yes?”

Iso nodded, his fingers fumbling with the gun’s magazine as he exchanged it. “It helps me to stay relaxed and focused. Music has this way of grounding me, you know?”

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. “That makes sense. What kind of music do you listen to then?”

As Iso put his pistol down, he began to list off his favourite genres and artists. You noticed the way his purple-coloured eyes lightened up. You were surprised by the variety of his tastes, from classical compositions to high-energy EDM tracks. Your conversation flowed seamlessly, as Iso continued geeking over his profound hyperfixation.

“So, do you have a favourite song?” you asked, genuinely interested.

Iso took a moment to think before answering. He has so many favourites, heck, he could create millions of playlist when he thought of it. Then, a song came to his mind, “There’s this one song that I find myself going back to quite often. It’s called ‘Helena’ by My Chemical Romance.

The name caught your attention, “Wait ! I know that song ! What’s the worst that I can say ~”

Iso chuckled, he continued singing along, “Things are better if I stay ~”

“So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight.”

Both of you started giggling, which lightened up the mood surrounding the both of you.

Iso started to fiddle with his gloved fingers, his expression softening. “To me, that song carries a powerful and cathartic expression of one’s emotions surrounding the loss of a loved one, so it has become one of my favourites.”

You were touched by his description and decided to make a mental note to listen to the song again later. As you both finished up with the training at the shooting range, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming between you and Iso. He’s slowly getting along with you, no longer the quiet and reserved recruit.

Someone you could genuinely relate to.

As the both of you left the shooting range, the two of you talked and laughed, not just about combat training but about music, books and everything in between. His giggles caught your attention, the way he would bring up his hand to stifle his laughs.

Goddamn, he’s cute.

You didn’t expect the training you had with him could be the perfect time to bring you both closer. You couldn’t wait to explore Iso’s unique dimension with him, discovering not just his hidden talents but the beauty of the world he had specifically created for himself.

“So, about that dimension visit,” you teased, “When can we make that happen?”

Iso grinned, the embarrassment from earlier dissipating. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d be happy to show you around the place.”

“Can we make that a promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

(A/N): my love for iso is growing… he’s so cutie patootie… do u get me…

masterlist.

#f6bron #ITS SO ISOVERRRRR #valorant iso #valorant iso x reader #iso x reader #valorant imagines #li zhao yu #iso x y/n #iso x you #valorant fanfiction #iso headcanons #valorant x reader

499 notes · View notes

pedropascallme · 3 months

Text

The Weather Ain't Been Bad

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, Damien is a biter but we knew that, lots of begging and even more praise, Damien likes getting his hair pulled but we knew that. If I missed anything please let me know!

“You look dumb.”

“I’ll literally—look at me, look at me. Shut up.”

You listened to Shayne and Angela argue in the back seat, their back and forth had started as a game of I-spy and quickly devolved into improvised insults on hour one of the drive after a patch of traffic resulted in a lack of things to spy.

“Literally nothing you say could ever affect me I don’t care about anything you have to say to me.” Shayne deadpanned and you heard Angela let out a shrill sound as she tried to climb out of her seatbelt to punch him in the arm.

“Hey, you know what would actually be really fun?” Damien, driving, looked back at them through the rearview mirror, “If you guys would, uh, shut the hell up?”

You laughed quietly; head propped up on the window as you watched the California landscape go from dusty highway to snowcapped trees. Hours long car ride aside, you were happy to be making the trip. It had never occurred to you that upon Anthony’s return to the company there would be a renaissance of Smosh content that didn’t have to do with the main channel, but when they announced the return of the Winter Games you felt a swell of joy—it was nice to be part of something that went back so many years and still continued to entertain the masses, especially when that something made you feel a cathartic sort of nostalgia.

And now, sitting in the front seat and listening to your friends threaten each other in increasingly ridiculous ways, watching Damien’s hand on the steering wheel, it went beyond simple nostalgia: It was pure ecstasy. The low hum of music on the radio paired nicely with the long road ahead, and you leaned back, closing your eyes for a moment.

You felt a hand on your knee, giving you a short squeeze. You opened your eyes, grabbing Damien’s hand and squeezing him back.

“What?” You playfully pushed his hand back towards his body, and he gripped the steering wheel.

“You’re my GPS, you can’t fall asleep.”

“I could navigate!” Angela leaned forward, elbows on the center console.

“You—you would get us lost in your own house, you psycho.” Amanda piped up for the first time in several minutes, placing a hand gingerly on Angela’s shoulder and laughing.

“Hey!” Angela turned her attention away from the front seat, pushing against Shayne, who had started laughing at her expense once more.

Damien glanced at you from his peripheral, as if to silently lament about your friends in the back seat, and you glanced back, smiling.

You appreciated the moments you got to spend with Damien. It wasn’t like they were rare; since you’d joined the cast, he was always someone you’d found a sort of reliability in, and a shared sense of humor went a long way. He was always a beacon of tranquility amongst the chaos of the office. He could be just as rowdy as everybody else—and often was—but he was always able to weed out when somebody needed a moment to recalibrate, and it felt like he knew what you needed before even you did sometimes. But he seemed to have that effect on most everybody, and you didn’t want to push too hard for something that might not be there, despite how happy you were to feel his hand on your back when he guided you through crowded spaces, or to hear him say your name in that faux-crestfallen way when you cheated in cards.

He turned his gaze back to the road, and you found yourself leaning against the window again, passively looking at his reflection in the trees that darted by, and thinking things that you decided should remain unsaid.

~~~

The house was gigantic, and even that was putting it lightly.

In theory, you recognized that you worked for a multi-million-dollar company, but it was more than a little weird to be standing in the doorway of a house big enough to hold at least 20 copies of your own apartment inside of it.

But you understood the want to splurge; it had been years since the last Winter Games, and even longer still since there had been a Games with Anthony. It was exciting, and even before you had gotten to the cabin-style mansion, there had been a buzz in the air; cast and crew alike vibrating in anticipation of a vacation-like period where things would be more akin to camp than to work.

Filming started immediately, and you barely had time to think about what exactly was happening before you were back in front of a camera.

Shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the cast, Ian and Anthony made picks for their respective teams; it was easy to forget that you were in a new space—it was like you’d never left the office, still in good company and laughing until your cheeks hurt. You donned the bright blue shirt that had been handed to you, and wondered how many raunchy, snow-related jokes you’d have to hear over the next week.

“Be honest with me,” you put the shirt on over the one you were already wearing, joining the side of the room with the rest of your teammates, “Are we gonna lose?”

Damien laughed, “With that attitude? Probably.”

Maybe the best part of the trip was the fact that this year marked the first time that everybody got their own room. You’d heard the stories—not that they were all that bad, but it was nice to know that even when surrounded by your friends for two weeks, you’d still be able to duck out for some private time in your own space.

Except that your room was freezing.

You hadn’t noticed it upon your arrival, coat still zipped up and adrenaline on high, but once you had showered and readied yourself for bed, you recognized the deep, unwelcome chill in your bones. The source evaded you; the windows were closed, the ceiling fan was completely still—it was a frustrating end to a long day.

You gave up, putting on a heavier sweatshirt and deciding that locating the source of the frigid air was a problem for tomorrow. There had to be extra blankets somewhere, and you tried to recall whether there had been any on the couches downstairs. Even if there weren’t, getting out of your room and regaining a little feeling in your fingers sounded appealing.

You quietly exited your bedroom.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, you shifted your weight awkwardly from side to side to avoid any sudden creaks from the old wood. The house was silent—save for the wind outside that howled against the windows every few moments—and you didn’t want to disturb the peace.

You had barely made it off the last step, rounding the corner to the kitchen, when you heard a voice call your name. You flinched, hand flying to your chest in a brief moment of panic, not suspecting anybody else to be awake, let alone downstairs, while you were roaming the halls like some kind of restless spirit.

“I’m sorry—did I scare you?” The familiar sound of timely apologies, whispered from across the room. You felt your heart settle. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus, Damien,” you took measured breaths, “scared me.”

“Sorry,” his voice was low. He stood behind the kitchen island, hair messy, and it was clear he was struggling to sleep as much as you were.

“It’s ok,” you walked towards where he was standing, leaning over the island to grab at his arm reassuringly before letting go; his skin was warm against your palm, and even in the dark of the room you were unable to tear your eyes from him. “I didn’t think anybody else was up.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not by choice,” he sighed, “my room is a sauna.”

“You’ve got your own room, you couldn’t just strip down?” You raised your eyebrows, teasing him, trying not to think about how he might look spread out on his bed with nothing on.

“There are only so many layers I can take off until it’s, like, my skin,” he smiled, and you broke out into a quiet laugh.

“Well, my room is freezing, so,” you collected yourself a little, “I came down looking for more blankets, but if you wanted to switch…”

“Is the window open?” He furrowed his brow, seemingly concerned by your discomfort.

“Not even a crack,” you clarified, “Your room sounds like a dream to me right now.”

You didn’t realize how it sounded until he let out a snort, “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You know what I meant.” You rolled your eyes, and he reached over the counter to brush his hand against yours in a gesture of peace.

You stood quietly together, enjoying each other’s company and the calm of the house. You let your hand remain under his on the granite, and he didn’t make any moves to separate from you.

“Thanks for being a good sport about navigating,” Damien ran his other hand over his face, tired after the seemingly endless day. “I know it probably wasn’t your first choice.”

“Yeah, well. You better thank God we’re on the same team, otherwise I’d use 'competitive determination' as an excuse to get back at you for keeping me up." You shot back jovially, “But, you know…it was nice to help you out.” You paused. “I liked it, actually.”

He shot you a small smile, which you returned, and the two of you let silence fall again.

“How about I see if I can find the source of whatever it is that’s making you so cold?” He tilted his head, sincerely offering to help you, and you could never say no to an offer like that.

You could never say no to Damien.

“That would be nice.” You curled your pinky into the palm of his hand before turning to lead him to your room.

You were friends, always had been upon your entrance into the company; he was an undeniably important presence in your life for that very reason—he was there. He was always there when you needed him. He was supportive and kind and stupidly funny, and, yeah, incredibly attractive. But that didn’t mean it had to be something more. Just because you looked forward to the days he came into work with dark stubble that contrasted with the silver of his hair, just because you forgot the rules to certain games sometimes because you were too focused on the way his sleeves fit around his arms, just because you loved the way his eyes trailed over your face when you told him a story and he got just as animated as you did—it didn’t have to be anything more than friendship.

But realistically, despite your insistence to your friends and to yourself that you considered Damien a great, strictly-platonic friend and nothing more, you knew what you really wanted.

You knew you wanted more.

And despite the innocent context under which you were bringing him up to your room, there was a surge of adrenaline that coursed through your chest while he trailed behind you.

“Jesus,” he pushed his shoulders back upon opening the door to your room, goosebumps pricking his skin. “Some weather we’re having.”

“I told you,” you pushed past him, kicking a stray pair of socks into the corner. “You still think you can fix it?”

“They actually call me Damien “Fix-It” Haas,” he cracked his knuckles, “Don’t look into it.”

You smiled, shaking your head, spreading your arms out to signal that he could poke around freely.

It took him approximately ten seconds to locate the thermostat behind a curtain.

“Are you serious?” You kicked yourself for missing what should’ve been so obvious.

“I’m Damien,” he went straight-faced, “And this says sixty-five degrees—how are you not frozen solid?”

“Pure will.” Your head fell back in exasperation, “How did I miss that?”

“You’re tired,” he softened, “It’s been a long day, y’know, and I bet a lot of people are too dumb to look behind curtains—”

You cut him off with a curt but soft shove to his chest, and he grabbed your hands after they made impact, both of you semi-delirious from lack of sleep and falling into a fit of giggles. He removed one of his hands from you, leaning back to change the thermostat.

“It’ll heat up eventually,” he started, “What number do you want it at?”

“Warm.”

“So, that is not a number,” he smiled at you, “I’ll put it in the seventies.”

“Thank you,” you wriggled free of the grasp he still had on your wrist, “My hero.”

You stood facing each other for a moment, neither of you ready to part for some reason.

“I should go to sleep,” you finally spoke.

“Yeah.” He agreed, voice sounding raspier than it had before. He started to walk towards the door while you leaned back onto the pillows on the bed.

“Damien,” you didn’t know what you were doing, or if you should be doing it, but it felt only logical in the moment, “Stay.”

You watched him freeze in place, turning back to look at you.

“I mean…if your room is uncomfortable to sleep in—what, are you gonna sleep on the couch?” You continued, rambling to find reasoning behind your sudden offer, “You can just stay here tonight.”

“Seriously?” He scanned your features, trying to figure out if you were serious or if this was just a joke that he hadn’t caught onto yet.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure—?”

“I’m just saying, it’s not fair that you have to spend the night in discomfort. Especially after you fixed the temperature in here.” You felt a red heat rising in your ears, but you soldiered on, still waiting for a yes or no. You watched as he turned to walk towards the door again, and your heart sank a little, before he closed the door in front of him and walked back to you.

“One hell of a sleepover—one bed, no snacks, and you don’t even have a Wii,” He feigned disappointment.

“But I hear when mom goes to sleep, they bring out Kevin’s mom.” You smiled, digging your heels into the comforter, and he laughed at the callback.

He sat on the mattress, leaning back on the pillows with you, and you used it as an excuse to angle yourself towards him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder.

“I can sleep on the floor. If you want…” He whispered, and you felt his fingers trail up your own hand.

“No,” you turned to look at him, still on your back but suddenly very aware of the proximity to which you were lying next to each other, letting him continue to run his hand along your arm. “It’s still cold in here.”

“I can turn the heat up—”

You watched as he traced the curve of your elbow with his finger before letting it fall back to your hand, “Damien, stop being a gentleman. Just share the bed with me.”

“Ok.” He stopped moving, gaze falling on you and swallowing shallowly. You laced your fingers with his. You were certain he could see your heart beating through your ribcage, or at the very least he could see the way your pulse bounced in your wrist. “Yeah, ok.”

You didn’t undress, didn’t even get under the covers, but something felt so intimate; a shift in the air. Maybe it was the new warmth that permeated throughout the room, but it was different, in the best way.

It felt like more.

He didn’t touch you, didn’t even graze your back when you turned over to get comfortable. But you felt his breath on the back of your head, rustling your hair and drifting over the back of your neck.

Your eyes stayed open, unable to let sleep take hold despite the tranquility; the moon bounced off the snow and caused a dim light to trickle through the window, and you were wide awake.

You shifted again, turning back over to face Damien. His eyes were closed, and you watched the subtle movements of his body, chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

“It’s creepy to watch people sleep.” He whispered, and you bit your tongue, unsure of what to say. Busted. He opened one eye and broke into a small smile. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” You whispered back, nearly letting the sound of the wind outside drown you out.

“I could take you,” he propped himself up on his arm.

“Is that a challenge or a blanket statement?” You raised an eyebrow, “Because I wasn’t going to murder you, but those are fighting words.”

“What do you think?” He was goading you now, waiting to see if you’d back down from whatever this was, if there was a line you were going to draw.

“I think I could kick your ass.” You sat up on your knees.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, skeptical. You couldn’t think of what to say, couldn’t tell what this was, or what would happen if you crossed the physical boundary into his space.

You threw caution to the wind for the second time within the hour.

You launched yourself towards him, and he let his arm fall to the side, lying on his back as you clambered to straddle him. Grabbing his wrists, you pulled his hands above his head, letting out a small huff of victory.

You couldn’t recall a time where you’d ever been this close to Damien before. There was a pool of heat in your stomach that you tried to write off as a burst of energy—adrenaline hitting in the middle of the night—while you rationalized being in this position with him. With your friend. It was just wrestling; a playful act among companions. You’d seen people do it all the time in the office. Courtney put Spencer in a headlock the other day—you’d seen her do it to Ian the day before that. It was fine. It wasn’t anything other than roughhousing.

It didn’t have to be anything more.

“I told you.” You gloated.

“I was in a vulnerable position. This is hardly what I would call a fair fight.”

“Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I’m being a sore loser?” He smiled, all teeth, and you were about to respond, tell him that you had won, fair and square, and that if he wanted to lose again, you’d grant him the rematch he clearly wanted so desperately.

Instead, he flipped you onto your back, knee between your legs and one hand pinning your wrists above your head just as you had done to him.

“Never let your guard down,” He laughed, and you bit back a smile.

“That’s not fair.”

“That’s what a sore loser would say.” He taunted, and you thought you felt his grip tighten around your wrists.

You looked up at him, unsure where to go from here.

Surely, you’d separate, turn over and away from each other, fall asleep, and then act like nothing was different tomorrow—because nothing was different. Nothing had changed. This was nothing.

But you liked the way he looked like this; his knee caught between the V of your own legs, the muscles in his arm tense from the grip he had on you, his other hand planted on the bed at your side, just close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of it. You watched him swallow.

“Tell me to let go,” he whispered, his voice gravelly. “Tell me to let go and I will.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t make a sound. All you could do was stare up at him, before you reminded yourself to speak, to say anything, to finally reveal what it was you wanted.

“Kiss me.” You were worried he wouldn’t hear it over the wind, words coming out small and breathy, but you saw the way the muscle in his jaw clicked.

He was on you instantly, colliding with you in a frenzied kiss. He let go of your wrists, and your hands came down to trail over his back, pulling him closer to you by the back of his neck. He bit at your bottom lip, and the sharp sting was counteracted quickly by the way his tongue darted over it, exploring you while you whined underneath him. He licked into your mouth, and you sucked at his tongue before letting his exploration continue, your hands reaching under the back of his shirt in an attempt to get closer, to let him suffocate you with his attention.

He pulled back, lips pink and cheeks blushed, his hand coming to hold your jaw and encourage you to open wider. He spit into your open mouth, before pushing on your jaw, encouraging you to close it. You did, swallowing his offering before opening your mouth again, sticking out your tongue as proof of your deed.

“Fuck,” he growled, hand still on your face when he reconnected his mouth to yours. It was needier now; sloppy and wet, and you could taste him perfectly like this, your spit mingling with his, licking into his mouth to get as much of him as you could.

He trailed down your body, leaving kisses on any skin available to him. The collar of your shirt exposed your clavicle, and he bit into the skin around it, sinking his teeth into you just enough for red marks to appear, before sucking a bruise onto the skin of the bone.

“Camera,” you reminded him haphazardly, “Nothing the camera can see—” You combed your fingers through his hair, pulling hard to ensure he listened to your warning, and he groaned at the pressure, removing his mouth from you.

“Right,” He was breathing hard, thumb rubbing circles on the bruise he had just made, low enough on your chest that your shirt would cover it—a secret between the two of you. He leaned back down, lips wrapping around the pulse point below your ear and peppering gentle kisses on it. You ground your hips onto him, his knee still planted between your thighs, stabilizing his position, and you felt the fabric of your pajamas catch perfectly on your clit, letting out a soft moan.

Damien watched, lips parted, as you bucked your hips against his thigh; some area of his brain wanted to let you continue, let you bring yourself to the edge by using him like this, but that was outweighed by the part of him that wanted so desperately to be the one making you cum; he wanted to make you fall apart, wanted to see how pretty you looked when he was making you feel good.

He moved his leg, effectively straddling you, and you let out a whimper of discontent, disappointed by the sudden loss of friction when you had been so close to what you needed.

“I know, baby,” his voice was cloying, clearly finding your whines enticing in a twisted sort of way; call it sadistic, but he didn’t want you putting in any work—he wanted to be in charge of all your pleasure. “I’ll let you finish, I promise,” he licked a stripe up your neck. “Tell me what you need.”

“Want your mouth,” you were quick to answer.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, I want your mouth on me Damien—please.”

“You want my mouth?” He nipped at your jawline, “Want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

You nodded, entranced by how devious he looked, pupils blown out, swallowing the moon’s reflection, silver hair messy from being pulled on and falling over his eyes, skin flushed pink; you were absolutely overcome with need watching him at his most primal.

He moved further down your body, situating himself between your legs and tucking his fingers beneath the waistband of your pajamas; you lifted your hips when he began to pull the fabric off of you, slowly, and you tried in vain to push your pants off faster.

“Uh-uh,” he moved his hands to cover yours, “be patient.”

You removed your hands from the flannel waistband, placing them over your chest and trying to crane your neck to watch him. It felt like an eternity before he finally let the fabric pool around your ankles, sliding them off with help from you kicking gently against the air. If ever there was a time to be thankful that you didn’t sleep in underwear, it would be now.

Moving back towards your core, he pulled your legs over his shoulders, still concentrated on making you comfortable even while most of his focus was on your naked cunt.

“Do you always get wet this quickly?” He let you hook your knee behind his head, looking up at you from between your legs.

“Shut up,” you felt suddenly embarrassed, as if it was only now, with his breath fanning your spread legs, that he had become suspicious of your attraction to him.

“That’s a no, then?” He smirked and your embarrassment dissipated when you saw the prideful smile.

Damien’s eyes shifted then from your face to your inner thigh, turning his head to suck marks on it just as he had on your neckline. He bit into the supple flesh, just hard enough to leave an outline of his teeth, before kissing bruises onto the same spots. You let out a contented sigh, and he squeezed your other thigh before turning his head again to repeat the process on that side. Licking stripes up your legs and into the joint of your thigh, he stopped short of where you wanted him, letting out a hum every time you exhaled in frustration at the lack of attention your cunt was getting.

He liked riling you up, seeing your brow furrow and your cheeks redden in frustration at not getting what you had asked for.

He relented when you started whispering pleas of his name, hand buried in his hair and pulling gently at the roots for him to use his mouth on you like he had said he would. You gasped at the contact of his tongue on your clit, the way he flattened the muscle to slide over you before moving it in slow circles over your bud. His fingers dug bruises into your thighs, holding them over his shoulders and pulling you closer to him when he finally started licking circles around your hole.

“Fuck—fuck!” you couldn’t get another word out, too focused on the way he dove into you and lapped up your slick. He was messy but masterful, letting your juices and his spit trail down over the curve of your ass while making your back arch off the mattress, hand still in his hair and unsure of whether you wanted to push him down further or pull him off due to the overwhelming sensation.

The sounds were pornographic, wet and filthy, and when you pulled harder on his hair he let out a low growl that displayed his pleasure while heightening your own.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groaned into you, spitting onto your dripping cunt before indulging once more in your taste. You became aware of the way his hips ground into the mattress with every flick of his tongue and every mewl you let out. “Cum for me like this, baby, can you do that? Let me taste it?”

You threw your head back at his words, pressure building in your stomach at the way he clearly got so much enjoyment from making you feel good, paired with the way his teeth grazed your clit, sucking on you until you saw stars and then pulling away to do it again. One of his hands fell from your leg, and he brought it to your cunt, spitting once before pushing two fingers in. You squirmed, moaning, as he curled them towards him and fluttered them over the spongy spot inside of you. He dragged his tongue over your clit one more time, and you were catapulted over the edge, dizzy with lust, pleasure coursing through you like an electric current.

Damien moved back up the bed, hugging you to him while you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm, muttering words of praise.

“Did so fucking good,” he kissed the top of your head, “Such a good girl—was that ok? Are you alright?” His thumb ran over your cheek, and he dipped his head down to leave kisses in its wake.

You let out a shaky breath, adjusting your position to throw your leg over his side before wrapping your arms around him to pull him down for a kiss.

“So good.” You muttered, tasting yourself on his lips. You rolled your hips against his lazily, reaching down to trail your hand over his evident bulge. “More.”

“Yeah?” He groaned, taking in the way your hand felt on his clothed cock.

“Please.” You looked up at him through your lashes.

He reconnected his lips to yours, moving slowly and swallowing your sounds.

“You want me like this?” He whispered, hands sweeping over your body, “Gonna let me fuck you into the mattress?”

Your hips bucked on their own accord, and you nodded feverishly. He sat up, pulling you up after him, and reached under the hem of your shirt to help you remove it. He got distracted by the sight of your chest, the swell of your breasts and the way you looked at him expectantly.

“You’re so pretty,” he almost laughed, absolutely delighted by you, as he leaned down to suck a bruise on the valley between your breasts. He nipped at the pillowy skin, teeth skimming your nipple when he took it into his mouth, barely putting pressure on it until your hand flew to his hair in a gesture to make him continue, to give you more. You whimpered, sitting on your knees with his face pressed against your chest.

He stood up, removing his shirt quickly before untying the cord of his pants.

“There’s really nothing sexier than a man in pajama bottoms,” he made a face as he fumbled with the knot of the string, finally undoing it with a sharp tug.

“I’d have to agree.” You shot him a smug look and he shook his head, smiling. He situated himself back on the mattress, pushing you onto your back and kissing your neck. You let out a quiet yelp when you landed on the pillows, laughing softly. You still felt dizzy, the entire situation leaving you completely shocked but admittedly thrilled, and when you saw him looking down at you, you felt words leave your mouth before you could filter them.

“I’ve wanted this for a really long time.”

Damien smiled again, kissing your forehead before dipping down to trail kisses over your jaw. “Me too.”

“So, uh,” You let your hand wander down his body, stopping at the base of his cock and teasing your fingers around it, “You gonna fuck me into the mattress now?”

He grabbed your hand, and in a parallel to the situation that got you here, pinned it above your head.

“Is that what you want?” His pupils swallowed his irises, giving him the appearance of someone completely lost in desire. It made you greedy for more.

“Yeah.” You breathed.

“Tell me.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“No. The whole thing. Say it.”

“I want…” You felt dirty saying it out loud, and that was half the appeal, “I want you to fuck me into the mattress.”

“That’s right. You gonna beg for it?”

You liked him like this, so cocky and domineering. It made you feel breathless, head swimming with what was to come. Dominance looked good on him.

“Please, Damien,” you swallowed, squirming slightly in anticipation.

“C’mon, you can do better than that.” He practically scoffed, “Beg.”

“Fuck me, please,” you felt yourself growing frustrated, and you could feel your heart beating in your cunt. “I was so good—I’ve been so good, please, I’ll take what you give me I promise just—please, please fuck me.”

The hand that wasn’t wrapped around your wrist fisted his cock, and you tilted your head to watch him stroke himself while he lined up with your entrance. You whined, hoping that maybe it would make him move faster.

“What did I say about being patient?” He chided, and your head fell back onto the pillows.

“Please, Damien.” You couldn’t have hidden your eagerness if you tried.

“One more time.” You felt the tip of his cock between your folds, collecting your slick and nudging your entrance.

“Please—yes!” You gasped when he pushed his hips forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the way he filled you completely in one stroke.

“Good girl.” He grabbed your other hand, now pinning both your wrists down over your head, giving him a full view of your body underneath him. “You feel good? Worth the wait?”

You nodded your head, mouth open and eyes wide, mesmerized by the stretch and the feeling of him seated deep inside of you.

“Tell me—use your words,” His own patience was wearing thin, and you could tell he was waiting for the opportunity to fuck you the way he wanted to.

“Feels so good, Damien,” you nodded again, “Move—fuck me, please.”

He exhaled, content with your answer and subsequent request. He drew his hips back far enough to nearly pull out of you, before slamming back against you and bottoming out completely. You let out a moan, and his free hand covered your mouth.

“Gotta be quiet, baby” he whispered.

You nodded underneath his hand, remembering all the other people in the house, and he pulled it away from your mouth before pushing two fingers through your lips.

“That’ll keep you busy, right?” He smiled and you moaned softly around his fingers, tongue circling them behind your lips.

Damien copied his initial sharp thrust, pushing into you with enough force to move you up the bed repeatedly, watching the way your breasts bounced with the movement. Letting go of your hands briefly, he brought one of your legs up to his shoulders, deepening the position, and you whimpered around the fingers in your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect. Sound so pretty, baby” he groaned, grinding his hips against you to get a feel for how deep he was inside of you, “So pretty letting me fuck you like this.”

He took his fingers from your mouth, toying with your nipples and using the residual spit to lubricate his movements. His other hand left your wrists, focused now on holding himself above you while he drove in and out of you.

You squirmed under him, overstimulated and needy, and your newly freed hands grabbed at whatever they could hold onto; one gripping his arm, nails leaving crescents in his skin, while the other fisted the sheets, and Damien took note of the way your face contorted when his thrusts became rougher.

“You like that?” His voice was as kind as it usually was, but with an edge to it now, driving into you hard. “That feel good, baby?”

Your moans were increasingly high-pitched, and all you could offer was a jumble of reassuring whines. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, lips meeting for a feverish, passionate kiss. He bit your bottom lip, keeping it between his teeth and tugging at it, before letting his tongue push forward into your mouth.

You moaned into him, his cock pushing against your most sensitive spot. You arched your back, silently begging for more, and he followed your unspoken instructions, fingers finding your clit between your bodies and kneading tight circles over it.

You let out a ragged cry of his name, cunt squeezing around him as you came; he pulled you into him, arm wrapping under your body, to kiss you fervidly, groaning at how you felt clenching so tightly around him.

“That’s right, baby, cum for me,” he fucked you through your high; long, deep strokes at a much slower pace bringing you back down to earth, “Good fucking girl.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, drowsy and overstimulated, happy to be enveloped by him.

“Where do you want me, baby?” His thrusts picking back up slightly, eager for his own release.

“Anywhere you want,” you kissed up the side of his neck, whining at the feel of his cock as he dragged his hips back before sinking back into you, “Wanna make you cum, please.” You rubbed your cheek against his, the friction from his short stubble soothing you.

“You want me to cum for you?” Even now, he kept teasing, “My good girl wants me to cum for her? So fucking greedy.”

You whined, wordlessly, trying to move your hips to match his thrusts, intent on pleasing him the way he had you.

“Spit,” he offered you his hand, and you licked his palm before spitting into it.

He squeezed you tight, using the arm still underneath you to lift you up slightly and get a few last thrusts in as deep as he could manage. Upon pulling out, he fucked his fist with the hand you had prepared for him, spilling over your cunt. You whimpered at the feeling, and the thought of his cum mingling with your own between your legs.

Breathing heavy and uneven, Damien took a moment to collect himself. He leaned over the side of the bed, finding his discarded shirt and grabbing it; he wiped between your legs, careful to go slow and gentle over your more sensitive spots. He threw the shirt back over the side of the bed when he deemed you properly cleaned up.

“Thank you,” you spoke up, nuzzling into his side.

He hummed, kissing your head and moving stray hairs from your face. “Was that…it wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Damien,” you looked up at him incredulously, “It was perfect.”

“Not too rough?”

“The perfect amount of rough.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Did you mean what you said?”

“That I wanted to make you cum?”

“Well—mm. Kinda gathered that that was the truth. No, I mean, when you said you’ve wanted this…for a while.”

“Of course I meant it.” You fidgeted with the fingers he had draped around your shoulder. “Did you mean it when you—”

“Yeah.” He cut you off.

“You didn’t know what I was going to ask.”

“What were you going to ask?” He quipped.

“Now I’m not telling you.” You rolled your eyes, playfully turning away from him. Damien used the hand he had on your shoulder as leverage to pull you back against him, and you landed against his chest.

“Did I mean it when I said I wanted this, too?” He finished your question for you, “Yeah. I meant it. One hundred percent, I did.” He pressed his cheek against the crown of your head, “Was worried that wanting more was a, I dunno, like a…thought it would make you uncomfortable. So, I just—not that I don’t like being your friend—but I tried to behave myself. Y’know? Even though...” His gaze flicked over your face, "I always wanted more."

“Is this where you tell me that you orchestrated this whole thing by turning down the heat in here?” You joked, tired and satisfied and so utterly content that he, too, wanted more than the friendship you had cultivated with one another—thrilled that you had been on the same page all along; the initial paranoia over the implications of being attracted to the other, and now basking in the relief that your affection was mutual.

“I’m flattered that you think I have that kind of forethought. But no,” he laughed. “Just got lucky.”

“In so many respects.” You giggled, listening to his heartbeat against your cheek.

“Thanks for letting me stay.” He held you tighter, as if a loose grip would cause you to slip away from him.

“Thanks for staying.”

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smosh games #smosh pit #smoshblr

297 notes · View notes

steddieunderdogfics · 18 days

Text

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @thefreakandthehair! With thirty-nine works in the Steve/Eddie and Stranger Things tags on Archive of our Own!

In an underdogfics first, we have TWO nominators!

Our first nominator recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

this is my month, I can feel it. october, baby!

never been afraid of any deviation.

scar-crossed lovers.

the answers are all inside of this.

Our second nominator, @sidekick-hero, recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

over the hills and far away

meeting you was coming home.

make no plans and none can be broken.

rounding third, sliding home.

what's mine is yours (to leave or take)

Lex's brain is full of very creative scenarios, reading her writing is like reading an anthology of short stories but it's with all of your favorite characters! You get to see what they'd do in this AU or that AU, I love the exploration. It's like she's made a stew and it's simmering on the stove and you realize you're so hungry for stew as soon as you see it. <3 -- anonymous

Lex writes characters that come to life on the page while you're reading her stories. It makes it so easy to get invested in them, to feel with them and root for them to get their happy ending. She's one of these authors I would follow anywhere, any trope, any setting and universe, I am here for it. So I think more people should get to find her stories and be treated to the magic. -- @sidekick-hero

Below the cut, @thefreakandthehair answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

How can I possibly give just one reason! These two burrowed themselves into my brain like little gerbils with no hope of ever getting them out. I mean, was I supposed to hear ‘dontcha big boy?’ and be normal about it? But in all seriousness, they’re two sides of the same coin and those oppositions in character are super fun to play with!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

It was tough to choose, but friends to lovers keeps coming up!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

If I have to choose a particular trope, hurt/comfort would be the closest fit, but in the sense of healing past hurts together as a unit.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This question sent me into an existential crisis and the best I could do is narrow it down to three, and even that was nearly impossible. In no particular order: We’ll Know For The First Time by KikiZ; carve your name into my chest by hexiewrites; and more recently, Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Rivals to Lovers in my football AU! I’ve been so excited to get moving on that one.

What is your writing process like?

Oh, I wish I had a better one. I start with a skeleton outline, pop on some music, and then pick and choose which part of the outline sparks joy in that moment. I rarely, if ever, write chronologically so I just write what feels good in the moment and then go back with a scalpel to create connective tissue.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Definitely writing out of order, I think! And if there’s one thing about me, it’s that someone is gonna have an introspective moment looking up at the stars. Someone told me it’s like my calling card and they’re not wrong.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I like a bit of both. I like to post on a schedule for multi-chapter fics but only after it’s either completely done or mostly done so that there’s no pressure to it.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Over The Hills And Far Away incorporated some personal bits of my past that were equal parts cathartic and difficult to write at times, so I’d have to say that one! It’s really satisfying to take experiences that you regret or that didn’t end the way you’d hoped and give them a different ending in fiction.

How did you get the idea for never been afraid of any deviation?

The Eddie Month prompt for that day! Me and my co-mod for the event, nostalgicbones, included Bad Reputation by Joan Jett as a prompt and as I was listening to it, it got me thinking about how Eddie is someone who cares for those in less than ideal situations— maybe even to the point of weaponizing his own bad reputation to protect someone. In this case, that was Steve!

When writing the answers are all inside of this, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to become multiple chapters! That one is part of my So Much For Stardust series (that I haven’t forgotten about, I’ve just been busy with big bangs) so it was based on The Pink Seashell interlude from the album. I still don’t know exactly how a 1-minute interlude turned into a 15k multi-chapter fic, but it was super fun to let go off the rails!

What inspired scar-crossed lovers?

Also a So Much For Stardust series fic, the first one in the series, actually. I heard Heaven, Iowa for the first time and wrote this based on that song in a day. My brain just kept rotating it around like a rotisserie chicken until I wrote it.

What was your favorite part to write from scar-crossed lovers?

This is ironic because I’m not an angst-writer by nature, but writing about the slow deterioration of Eddie’s van as a symbol for the passage of time was really fun to do. Bittersweet, but it was one of those things that I didn’t realize I was doing until I was in the middle of it and once I realized, I just carried it throughout!

How do/did you feel writing never been afraid of any deviation.?

Excited! It was the first time that I wrote pre-s4 steddie (which is wild that in two years, I just wrote that for the first time last fall?) and it was so fun to do!

What was the most difficult part of writing the answers are all inside of this.?

Probably balancing the kids’ voices in the first chapter while still creating tension between Steve and Eddie.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It isn’t one of the fics listed here, but in no better version I could pretend to be tonight, I loved writing the line “Something about Steve feels like home, and Eddie is only familiar with houses.” Hurt/comfort, my beloved.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning on taking a break from big bangs for a bit to focus on some super neglected WIPs, so there are a few upcoming fics I’m excited about! My Football AU, an ASMR Artist!Eddie x Insomniac!Steve AU, and I’m working on a fic called Pickup Note with sidekick-hero and firefly-party that I cannot wait to dive into fully.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just thank you so much for all that you do with this blog! The ship truly exploded overnight and there are so many incredible stories that I’ve completely missed just because they’ve fallen through the cracks. I really appreciate what you’re doing here and the undertaking that it’s been!

Thank you to our author, @thefreakandthehair, and our nominators, anonymous and @sidekick-hero! See more of @thefreakandthehair works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddieunderdogfics #writer's wednesday #writer's spotlight #steddie writers

94 notes · View notes

toomanytookas · 15 days

Text

A Fic Menu for Friendship!

My cherished @schnarfer. How wonderful that our little pieces of the internet intersected such that we could meet. It really does feel like I've known you always sometimes...

And how delightful it has been to be a bit of a garçon de cuisine in your kitchen as of late! Inspired by our convo about reclists as pairing menus, for the @swiftiscruff friendship exchange^ I've whipped up a very non-serious one (liberties absolutely taken with the genre) that is a riff on your masterlist and its wonderful contents. 🖤✨

For increased accessibility/given that tumblr can sometimes be weird with images, text of the menu with some formatting preserved is available below the cut! I haven't included links because they're all findable via Al's masterlist; see above!

^Thank you to Cat and Han for creating this event! It's been so lovely to see everyone's posts.

Cafe Schnarfer

Beautiful works handcrafted by head chef Al

Tonight's Menu

-First Courses-

If Wishes Came True (3.87k)

The newest dish on our menu. A perfect tasting platter of some of our chef’s specialties: sparkling love, a character you adore but want to give a firm talking to, and endings that make the angst feel incredibly worth it.

Recommended pairing A healthy slice of cake and a cola flavoured lollipop.

Difficult (12.03k)

The first dish developed for the restaurant! A must for those who enjoy notes of instant chemistry, a bit of self-destruction, a lot of Fleabag energy, and hopeful endings.

Recommended pairing A strawberry milkshake, whipped cream vodka optional* *strongly suggested to make things a little messy, just don’t accidentally give it to the kids

-Entremet-

Purple Haze (5k)

An opportunity to take a brief break from our menu's angsty notes to indulge in a heady, vintage-styled treat. This isn’t your average op-shop find, we’re talking high-end fashion, baby!

Recommended pairing A couple of gin bucks should do the trick. Or just the ginger ale if you’re not in the mood for a buzz!

-Second Courses-

Go Your Own Way (10.87k)

A dish close to the hearts of our whole kitchen. A perfect selection for those who have fallen for a fuckboy and find it therapeutic to recognise your past in a wonderfully raunchy but still angsty story. The finish of this dish manages to incorporate senses of both sadness and hopefulness, making for a cathartic aftertaste.

Recommended pairing A warming Mexican hot chocolate. You'll appreciate how it matches the spice and provides you with some added comfort when things get achy.

Endurance (15.11k)

You will never forget the first time you experience this dish and will always find a way to convince yourself that you aren’t boring for ordering it time after time. A slice of spiciness coupled with a heavy dash of the forbidden add immense depth to a texturally rich feast full of historical flavour.

Recommended pairing A U.S. Army-issued chocolate bar and maybe a prairie oyster for the vibes. But then make sure to treat yourself to some actually nice-tasting chocolate.

-Dessert-

The Kit Kat Trilogy (16.25k)

The dessert you’ll think about for 10 years and then come back for more. Save room because it is full of delicious angst and delightful romance that you won’t be able to help but consume whole. On a day when you’re low on time, you’ll consider stopping by for just another taste of this memorable sweet treat, we guarantee it.

Recommended pairing A full roast dinner. Even if it’s just for yourself. And maybe a glass of champagne to throw at the wall when things get angsty for a sec.

-Digestifs-

Dial Drunk (7.70k)

Let’s celebrate the end of our meal with lots of hope that emerges from some long-endured darkness.

Recommended pairing The loveliest hot breakfast you could possibly make, full of all your favourites and with plenty of food to go round.

Illicit Affairs (7.47k)

Let’s derail the end our meal with a real hot mess. Maybe you’ll wish you had picked the sweeter option, but, damn, you’ll enjoy the deeply achy ride.

Recommended pairing Wrap yourself in a blanket warm from the dryer for this one. And maybe have some water? The lack of flavour will be a good break from the intensity of it all while still keeping you hydrated.

I love you, Al! 🖤😘

#PPCUGiftExchange2024 #reclist #author: schnarfer

31 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 2 years

Text

Said the Spider, to the Fly

It’s the Sub!Tangerine choking fic.

NSFT (Naturally), 18+, MINORS DNI. Very brief dub-con (if you squint).

3.3k words

Fem!Reader x Tangerine

@honestlywtfisgoingon @white-wolf-buckaroo @felhomaly @sinfulrefugy @venusthepirate @lunarpansexual @wanderedaway @georgiee-riviere @mushywutty @piechans @apieceoffabulousshit @4ng3l-0n-34rth @minjaz @starl1g4t @earth-elemental18 @luhvbot @underratedboogeyman @july-is-summer @vocalvixen20cp @northerngalxy @tangerinesgf (thank u pinksminaj for the gif)

the line about ‘frost’ is literally taken from my mate’s dream so thanks for letting me use that bb xx

“‘Kinnel!” you shout, spitting the word out between your teeth. Your footsteps down the alley sound like gunshots with each click of your heels echoing off of the walls. Which is just as well, really, because when you do turn around to shoot, you’re adjusted to the noise.

Good thing about alleys is there’s always a decent place to duck and cover. When you throw yourself behind a load of dry-mixed recycling bins Tangerine follows suit on the opposite side, the two of you moving in tandem to fire off rounds into your pursuers.

Nasty business. Always is with gangs. They get a little too big for their boots, start stepping on people’s toes. You’d been hired to bring them down a peg. ‘Course, Tangerine had gotten impatient. Fired too early. Meant you’d had to speed things up a bit. Now you’re running for your lives as Lemon goes to grab the getaway car.

You don’t get enough time to aim so end up piercing the nearest pursuer’s stomach. Damn. You were aiming for his heart. He stumbles and Tangerine finishes the job, taking down the other two behind him with four more bullets. By the time you’ve finished reloading it only takes a couple more precision shots to clear the alleyway.

The two of you wait for a beat, listen out for any more people coming, then leave your cover.

“That was a fucking nightmare,” Tangerine mutters, trying to wipe the blood off of his expensive suit.

“Oh, was it, Tangerine? Do you think?”

“Watch the fucking attitude, love.”

“I’ll watch my attitude when you become actually fucking competent at your job.”

That’s a bit unfair. He is competent at his job, good, even, but he’s hasty. Before he can reply you close the distance between the two of you and continue with the barrage.

“You’re fucking reckless, that’s your problem,” you snap, poking your finger into Tangerine’s chest. He rolls his eyes at you and it makes you furious.

“Reckless? Yeah, darling, without me being reckless we’d never get anything fucking done.”

You’re exhausted. Exhausted from the job, and exhausted at the idea of arguing further. You know it’s a bit childish to resort to violence but to be honest it’s cathartic.

Tangerine is strong, but you can hold your own too. And you’ve got the element of surprise on your side. So when you slam him into the wall with your hand on his throat, he goes back easily. You dig into the soft skin of his neck as you push your anger into him.

“I’m fucking tired of - ”

“Ahh!”

Oh.

That makes you both freeze.

You look up at Tangerine, agog. Because there is no way to mistake the noise that just escaped him as anything other than a moan.

A noise that trickles down your spine and pools in the pit of your stomach.

Tangerine’s eyes are wide. Even in the low light of the alleyway, you can see his pupils are blown. Jaw slack. Tongue silenced, when usually he’d be coming back at you with venom.

Oh.

Carefully, you raise your leg between his. Not violently, not to hurt, but to check. When your thigh brushes his cock you find it half-hard.

“Stop,” he manages to choke out. But you know that sort of voice, and what it means. You know there’s no true sincerity behind it. If he wanted you to stop, he’d throw you off of him.

But he doesn’t.

You press your hand a little further into his throat. He hisses, low and slow. His eyes roll back into his head.

“And what if I don’t?” you ask, softly. You can feel him swallow against your purlicue.

“I - ”

You spring away from each other when you hear the sound of tires screeching. Lemon pulls into the alleyway, paying no heed to the bodies in the way.

“Get in,” he barks at you both, and you don’t need telling twice.

As he drives away it isn’t the adrenaline from just the fight pumping through your veins.

🍊

It’s a gloomy evening in London. The clouds were heavy when you arrived home at your flat in the afternoon and they haven’t cleared up. The skyline, however, is as beautiful as ever. The bright lights are dazzling as you stare out from your penthouse window, swirling a glass of wine around in your hand.

You’re not thinking about the view currently in front of you. You’re thinking about the one you had earlier, of your fingers wrapped around Tangerine’s neck. It sends a hot thrill to the apex of your legs and you let out a wistful sigh.

You didn’t expect it of him. You really didn’t. You thought he’d fight you, be a child about it. But he was so wonderfully submissive. He even seemed surprised at himself for it.

After a moment you reach into the pocket of your robe - a silky, delicate thing - and pull out your phone. You stare at the screen for a hard moment before you use your thumb to hash out a message to him.

Here’s my address, if you want to explore what happened earlier.

Might be dangerous to give that sort of information to a hired killer but, hey. Not like you can’t defend yourself is it?

And, you think with a wry smile, if I do, maybe he’ll just end up being turned on again.

He reads it but doesn’t reply. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. You shrug and put your phone on your coffee table, turning on the TV and savouring the glass of wine. It’s a rare vintage so you’re trying to limit yourself to a single drink a night. With nothing else planned for the rest of the evening you consider turning in for an early night when your show is finished.

Imagine your surprise, then, when half an hour later there’s a knock at your door.

You look through the peephole first, just in case a very polite person has come to attack you. When you see it’s Tangerine that theory isn’t necessarily dispelled. But he looks more cowed rather than angry, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of that chequered coat.

You open the door, cock your head towards the inside of your flat before he can even speak.

“You coming in then, handsome?”

He’s already started to blush which is something you love. He walks through the door, silently, and you watch the way his hips move as he does.

He does have a nice walk.

Tangerine looks around your apartment, taking it in. You hold out your arms to him.

“Give me your coat, and sit down.”

It’s a simple order. You’re testing the water. He clearly doesn’t clock it, though, because he obediently takes it off and hands it to you. You hang his coat on the back of the door with your own as he perches on the edge of the sofa. Like a bird who might be ready to fly off at any time if spooked.

“Do you want a drink?”

Tangerine needs to let his nerves go. This won’t be any fun if he can’t unwind.

He licks his lips. You wonder what that tongue can do if you put it to work.

“Water’s fine,” he says. You look at him expectantly. “...what?”

“Magic word?”

He huffs. It’s funny when he huffs, he’s so delightfully indignant.

“...Please.”

You head over to the kitchen and grab him his drink, throwing in a couple of ice cubes too. By the time you return he’s not looking exactly relaxed, but he certainly seems less tense. When you hand the glass to him your fingers touch. He lingers just a moment too long. He must hope you don’t notice it, but how can’t you?

“So,” you say, sitting on the armchair opposite him and crossing your legs, making sure you make a show of it, “you’re here to fuck?”

He chokes on the water he’s drinking, and it takes him a moment to get his bearings. He wipes his mouth using the back of his arm while he practically glares at you.

“Way to make it sound fucking romantic.”

“It’s sex,” you say with a shrug, “it doesn’t have to be romantic.”

Another minute reaction. His face falls, just a tiny bit.

Oh.

Huh.

“Unless you were hoping it would be romantic?”

Before he can say anything to defend himself, you cross the room and sit on his lap. He’s manspreading, of course, so you can alight on one of his thighs and tuck both your legs close to his crotch. You feel the way he freezes underneath you, not expecting your sudden proximity.

You drop your face to be centimetres from his. His pupils have blown wide and you can feel the response your body has had on his.

“Well,” you tell him, voice husky and low, “if you’re a good boy, we’ll see what happens.”

He practically moans.

🍊

Getting to the bedroom was quick. You led and he followed, delightfully obedient. When you told him to strip he hesitated for a moment before giving in. Suit jacket folded neatly and draped over the back of your bureau chair, shirt and trousers along with it. You’re not sure if he’s delaying this for himself or if he always takes such good care of his clothes. With how expensive they look you wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter. You like a man who looks after his things.

He sits on the bed in just his boxers, attention laser-focussed on you as you make your way around the room. You open a draw and make a show of rummaging through it.

When you bring out the handcuffs his breath visibly hitches.

“How do you feel about these?” you ask, swinging them around on your index finger. You’d quite like to see him tied up properly, with all the wonderful knots you know you can do, but you also don’t want to ask too much of him too soon. You won’t want to scare him or make him uncomfortable.

Tangerine swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. You’d love to lay your hand over it again.

“I…”

He trails off, staring at the cuffs. You rattle them to get his attention back.

“Gonna need your consent on this one, handsome.”

He scoffs.

“‘Consent’...”

“Yeah, consent. If you think that’s funny, we can go ahead and stop now, becau–”

“Wait.”

He says it so sharply you immediately stop mid-returning them to the draw. Alright. Clearly letting himself be vulnerable is a bigger step than you thought it would be for him. You approach him again, making sure your hips sway as you do, catch his chin in your hand and have him look up at you. You run your thumb over his lips. They’re rough, as if he’s been worrying them with his teeth a lot before he got here.

“Yes or no, my love. Either is fine.”

When you call him ‘my love’ he practically nuzzles into your hand, whether he means to or not.

“They’re fine,” he breathes. You smile.

“Good boy.”

The tent in his boxers gets much more obvious with that. Another time, when he’s more used to what you want to see from him, maybe you’d get him to ask you to put the handcuffs on him. Beg for them. But tonight you’re happy with him, so move your hand down to his throat.

Another swallow. You gently push him backwards so he’s laying down, then nod towards the headboard.

He doesn’t need any more instruction. He moves into place, resting his hands above his head. It makes the long line of his torso look delicious in the low lamp light. You sling one of your legs over him to sit on his stomach as you bend forward to affix the restraints. He takes in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Fuck.”

When the locks have clicked shut, you look down at him from above.

“You alright down there, babe?”

Once again those cheeks are red. He can’t quite look you in the eye as he speaks.

“Perfume’s nice.”

“Oh,” you say, a little taken aback, “thank you.”

You drop a kiss on his collarbone, caress his neck with your fingers. You feel his hips buck up into nothing.

“Someone’s eager.”

He growls, twists against his bindings. Oh. You’re going to enjoy this.

Carefully you slide down his body, grinding your hips down into his when you reach the tent in his underwear. He throws his head back. This is a new experience and it must be overstimulating for him. How wonderful. When you hook your fingers over the waistband and tug his remaining garment down and off his legs, his cock practically springs up; leaking, red, and dripping with precome.

“Beautiful boy,” you sigh, dreamily, giving his shaft a single lazy pump. He acts as if your touch is a live wire, almost jackknifing off of the bed.

You hum to yourself thoughtfully as he struggles for breath, reaching over to the bedside table drawer. The bottle of lube you pull out is nearly full and you consider all the other things you’d love to use it for one day: maybe putting a pretty little plug in him and having him keep it there as you ride him, maybe having him laid out on his front as you push a strap deep inside his hole. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There are many options you’d love to explore.

But later.

You drizzle lube over his throbbing cock. He gasps at the shocking coolness of it.

“You alright?”

He nods emphatically but has his eyes shut tight. Too lost in the feeling.

You discard the bottle and concentrate on his cock, working your hand up and down him to coat him. Lube mixes with the precome that won’t stop dripping from his head. It’s flattering, really, so see a man like this so worked up over you. When you’re satisfied with what you’ve done you wipe your hand on his stomach - well, you can still be a little cruel - and finally take off your robe.

You’re naked under it, of course. Tangerine doesn’t even notice for a moment. He’s so caught up in his own pleasure he’s a little lost. When he does he lets out a long, shuddering breath.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, his voice gravelly. You grin.

“Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.”

You slide forward, pressing the lips of your cunt open either side of his cock shaft, pinning it to his stomach with your own weight. He groans and, again, thrashes at his manacles.

“Nuh-uh. Be a good boy for me, alright?”

He practically whines at that. Slowly you begin to work your way up and down him like this, riding him without having him push inside you. Fucking without fucking. You feel every ridge and vein on his dick perfectly against your folds, a tantalising taste of what’s to come. You take your time, undulating your hips along his length, all the way from his tight sac to the head of his cock. Lube and your own wetness mix together along him making a dreadful mess on his stomach, and yet somehow you think he won’t care.

“How does that feel?”

“Fuckin’... amazing.” Every syllable is an orgasmic struggle.

“You’re not going to come, are you?”

He shakes his head.

“Good.”

You put your hand on his stomach, walk your fingers up to his throat. When you lay your hand across it and squeeze you think he might actually go back on his word and release all over himself right then. But you stop moving on his cock and give him a moment to adjust to just the feeling.

Slowly you slide forward, letting his cock spring back up behind you as you move off of it. The rough trail of hair from his navel to his groin is a delicious contrast to the smoothness of his dick. You lean over him, keeping that hand on his neck.

“They wanted to give me a codename, you know,” you whisper, “‘Frost’. Because if you touched me you’d lose your fingers… but I much preferred the idea it was because I bite.”

You bend your head down to join your hand at his neck and sink your teeth in. The noise of pleasure he makes is so loud that it makes you smile into his skin. You suck a deep love bite into his neck, pulling back and making sure the evidence is already beginning to blossom.

You like the idea of leaving proof on him. Marking your territory.

Your second hand comes up to join your first and you press down even harder on his throat. You know where to press, of course - you don’t want to restrict his airway, just the blood rushing there. His face goes red from the feeling of it and the arousal that floods his system, and he looks so gorgeous like this; so gorgeous and you wish you could take a snapshot of him and save it forever. Tangerine, your Tangerine.

The grip on his neck releases just for a moment for you to inch back and catch his dick again, this time pressing it against your entrance and sinking down in one movement. He chokes on his own spit as you adjust to his size.

“You…” he manages. You grin down at him.

“What? Do you want me to tell you how big it is, Tan? Moan like I can’t take it?” you thrust your hips forward, pressing his tip into the sweet spot inside of you. You fall back forward and begin to choke him again in that wonderful way he wants you to at the same time as you begin to ride him. The muscles in his abdomen are hard and support you as you fuck him, hard, practically pushing him into the bed as you go.

You know he won’t last long; he came here pent up and you met him likewise. Another day maybe you’ll put a cock ring on him. Today, you’ll let him have his cake and eat it too.

He opens his mouth to speak, you remove your hands as you press harder down onto his hips.

“Yeah, love?”

“Fuck, just, spit in my mouth,” he manages, “please.”

Who are you to deny such a request?

You squeeze his cheeks tight, getting him to open his lips into a delightful little ‘o’, and spit onto his outstretched tongue. The feeling of it is clearly enough to tip him over the edge. You slide off of him as he comes, release painted all the way up his stomach. A work of art. Your work of art.

The image itself is enough to get you there and your orgasm washes over you, a powerful tidal wave knocking all the strength from your soul.

And then, there is just the sound of breathing.

When you finally get the energy to move you see Tangerine’s throat is red, a little abused. Perfect. You smile as you bonelessly move off of him, undoing the cuffs as you go. He lies there, covered in his own come and thoroughly used, as you get a wet flannel and a new glass of cold water.

“Drink,” you tell him, pressing the glass up to his lips. He takes it from you, wordlessly, obediently, and does so. You clean him up as he recovers. You can feel every muscle in his stomach as you wipe him clean.

“So was that what - ?”

And then he’s kissing you. It’s surprisingly sweet considering the kind of sex you just had. His hand caresses the back of your head, tongue gently swiping yours. You sigh into it, satisfied.

When you both pull back you catch him searching your face for a reaction.

You smile.

Alright, so, romantic, then.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine bullet train #bullet train imagine #aaron taylor johnson

682 notes · View notes

courtingchaos · 7 months

Text

Life Is Good Blues

Professor Munson x Fem Reader

@carolmunson So the old man finally had something to say to me and I think you might find it a little cathartic too maybe?

Life is Good Blues

“There she is.”

You don’t even have the door all the way open before you hear his voice. Normally it’s a welcome surprise when he gets home before you but today you’re talked out. A deep breath and a millisecond pep talk to get yourself through the door without snapping at him when he’s just happy to see you.

“Did you get out early today?” You can’t hide the strain in your voice and you hope you can pass it off on full hands. Ed is already rounding the corner and reaching out for at least one fistful of bags.

“We lost power like six times today so they told us to vacate.” He loops the handles over his forearm and takes the others off you too, turning to head back into the kitchen. He hasn’t caught on yet to your sour mood or the fact that your teeth have been clenched for six solid hours. All you can muster is a little hum and a terse nod, the strain along your neck not easing up like you thought it would when you finally made it back home.

He picks out the bags with groceries in them and peers at you over his glasses when you come into the kitchen behind him. Head bowed and eyes following the wood grain of the flooring you can barely even thinking about making eye contact.

“You okay?” He doesn’t fly into worry mode like everyone else in your life would upon seeing you turn into an automaton.

Are you okay? There’s just…so much to go over. There’s the humming of your brain in the background of every thought process and the god damn job search that rolls through your every waking thought and there’s just the thought of what you need to make for dinner because you’ve just remembered you haven’t eaten a thing today. A grimace accompanied by a short, sharp tap to your forehead. “Just uh, bad brain day.” You suddenly remember you forgot to rinse off the shower after you started cleaning it this morning and those tears that have been hovering in your lash line all day are that much closer to spilling.

“You wanna talk about it?” A simple question asked simply. Ed gets the cold stuff put away and stacks all the dry on the corner of the island so he can turn to look at you, all of you, in your overstimulated glory.

“N-not really.” The tears burn and you really can’t look up at him now.

He slides along the countertop slowly and holds out his hand to you. “You want me to shut up?” He doesn’t touch, finally catching on to where you’re currently teetering. He holds his hand out like an olive branch, a peace offering for you to take so you can ask for help.

“No.” You don’t want him to, you just don’t want to talk anymore. It took you four hours to get out of bed and another four to get any kind of clothes on your body and then two more to finally drag yourself out of the house to run your errands. Food shopping and a quick run to the pharmacy and you’re effectively rendered useless by your brain trying to outsmart itself.

“How’s this sound.” He keeps his hand open but moves in closer, close enough you can feel the heat radiate off of him and suddenly nothing sounds better than letting him prop you up and guide you around. “You let me take care of you and you get to reboot your brain for the evening.” Your hand slides into his seamlessly just like your face that presses into the crook of his neck. If there’s a sob hidden there he ignores it, arms wrapping around your shoulders when you sag into his chest.

“Have you eaten today?”

“No.” You peel off your clothes that you haven’t been able to stand all day and he runs his hand under the spray of the shower head. “I just forgot.”

He doesn’t reprimand you or scoff or laugh, just hums and leans out from the glass partition. “It’s a lobster shower, I hope that’s what you wanted.” The steam rolls up to the ceiling and you can almost feel your neck starting to relax before the water has even hit it. He holds the door open for you with a flourish and a little bow and it makes you smile.

“You want me to leave you alone?”

“No.” The silence would be deafening.

“Okay.” The door clicks shut behind you and his hand pops over the top to hand you one of the rose shower melts he bought you. “I’ll be right back.”

The drone and the heat of the water lull you into something akin to peace and when Ed turns back up it only startles you a little.

“I know you should eat first but I’ll make sure you don’t drown.” The smile is evident in his voice when his hand appears over the door again, this time a wineglass half full being handed down to you. “Go easy, tiger.”

“Thank you Ed.”

“I also brought you a snack.” Another hand, this time holding a few grapes.

“Did you bring me a shower lunchable?”

“Maybe.”

You giggle at him periodically handing you fistfuls of cheese and fruit, making sure to keep your distance from the shower head. He starts talking softly about a new D&D thing he found on Kickstarter, something he thinks you might find interesting.

“It’s Halloween themed, but like D&D Halloween. I backed it, and I got the biggest tier of course, so more dice for you to find around here.”

“At least they’re pretty.”

“And Halloween themed.”

“You’ve mentioned.” You grin at him through the frosted glass and finish off your wine. He takes the glass from you and when the water cuts off he’s ready with a towel held up for you to walk into.

“You feel better?”

“A little bit.” Still quiet when you lean on him, droplets soaking into his grey t-shirt while he dries you off softly. He rubs the towel along your back and finally up to the ends of your hair to scrunch lightly and wring out any extra water.

“Look at me.”

Chin tilted up so he can see your faint smile and tired eyes. He looks so soft in the bathroom lighting, the streaks of grey in his hair glittering warmly. He didn’t put it up and the ends of his curls tickle your cheek where they begin drying, plastered to your skin.

“God you’re pretty.” He pinches your chin between his fingers when you roll your eyes and try to scoff.

“You don’t have to butter me up, Ed. I feel better.”

“I’m doing no such thing.” A finger runs down your temple and pushes back a few strands of wet hair behind your ear. That same finger glides down under the corner of your jaw and he cradles the back of your neck so he can give you kiss. Nothing hurried or tinted with anything other than his simple intent. “I just don’t think I tell you enough.”

“You tell me all the time.” It comes out in a whisper that ghosts over his lips.

“Well it’s still not enough.” Another soft press against your mouth. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Mm.”

“My pretty baby.”

God those tears burn a trail down your freshly washed face. Hotter than the steam that beat against your back, like they’ve been trapped in the tumultuous core of you all day. You didn’t want to have this breakdown but it seems it’s going to have you no matter what you wish. Ed’s voice soothes in your ear when he feels that first shudder rumble through you and he pulls you in closer.

“I’m sorry baby.”

Nothing but half formed sobs answer him while you finally let the pressure valve of the past however many weeks or months release.

“I know, I know.”

He gathers you up so you’re fully covered in the extra long towel, angling you towards the bedroom so he can sit you down on the edge of the bed. You cling to his shirt and to his arms and babble against his chest about ruining the night. You try to explain to him what the chaos in your head feels like when you slide into these moods. A blank slate for the world to see so you can have your whitecaps to yourself, the churning grey waters that try to pull you all the way down.

“Eddie I’m tired.” You hiccup when the tears finally slow. “I’m tired and I don’t know why.” You can hear the whine in your voice and it makes your skin crawl. “I don’t know if there’s enough sleep for this.”

He’s silent now when you want him to fill the void so desperately. You need him to talk about his job or his music or one of his hobbies, anything to keep you from thinking-

His slippers hit the ground with a smack that jolts you out of the dread spiral, his hands under your arms pulling you up the bed also pull you out of those crashing waves.

“I see you.” He says while he pulls the duvet up over the two of you.

“The bathroom light is still on.”

He shushes you. “I see you struggling all the time and I try so hard to let you do stuff on your own.”

“Eddie I need to do my face stuff-”

He cuts you off when he drops the bedding over your heads and yanks you in close. “And I think I’m pretty good at that.” He settles on his side of the bed and makes sure you’re anchored to him. “But you really need to understand something.”

“What.” Muffled into his chest and you can feel the short laugh rumble under your lips.

“I’m gonna help you when I can because I want to, not because I have to. I see you trying and I see you trying hard and you’re gonna have days like this.”

You huff to try and fight back against the new onslaught of tears.

“And I’m gonna hold out my hand and you’re gonna take the damn thing and let me feed you in the shower.”

“Ed, I can’t-“

“I know you can’t and that’s okay.” He hooks his leg over one of yours to tuck you even closer. “It’s okay.” His hands run over your back and calm you down so your tears only trickle instead of stream. “It’s okay.”

It’s dark under the covers, warm and a little damp only because of your hair and towel. He doesn’t mind so you don’t mind, especially when he tucks you up under his jaw like this.

“You mean it?” Still quiet when you ask. He means it like he always does but still you have to ask, have to make sure.

And he knows, of course he does. Another kiss to your hair and a whisper only for you.

“Of course I do.”

#My Work #My Fic #Eddie Munson Fic #Professor Munson

56 notes · View notes

musicaltheatregirlsandsongs · 10 months

Text

Musical Theatre Song Contest: Round One D

youtube

Submitter’s propaganda under the cut

Gethsemane (I Only Want To Say)

Genuinely moving piece of theater, making a religious argument, but also humanizing this figure of Jesus Christ in such a way as to force the audience to really consider their relationship with religion. Or maybe that's just me idk

musically this song has everything—killer high rock vocals, banger instrumentation, emotional lyrics. it’s about jesus crying and cursing at god, being pathetic and angry and sad. extremely cathartic for ex-religious folk

Feast or Famine

it’s actually such a banger and we all know ensemble songs are great <3 it’s easily the best song in the show and this is not just me speaking it is genuinely like the fan favorite !!

"You never should settle for the lifetime that is handed to you", "He's my little boyfriend"

It's an anti-capitalist show and this is an anti-capitalist song, it's quite early on in the show so doesn't explicitly state that the attitude they're depicting is bad (that comes later on) but perfectly directs the audience into thinking it themselves. Especially the extra in the trench coat's glorious cry of "Chaos Reigns". This song is the best critism if consumerism in America ever and it was written by the people who made Me and My Dick.

#musicaltheatresongs #song polls #round one #round 1 d #jesus christ superstar #gethsemane i only want to say #gethsemane #black friday #feast or famine #starkid #Youtube

80 notes · View notes

greenerteacups · 8 months

Note

Hi there! Just wanted to ask something fun: what’s your favourite moment from each of the books you’ve written so far?

lovely lovely question. so much fun. let me see:

book one: i mean, the train station scene was the image that kicked off the whole series, so i have to pick that one. it resonated with me on so many levels — it introduces the running element of muggle music, which becomes a sort of leitmotif for draco and hermione's relationship, as well as draco's own character growth; it's a fun character moment, in that hermione gets to steal the show from draco's gift of an owl, leaving him speechless, when he'd surely have liked it a bit more the other way 'round, and that's going to be a precedent, too; i also just like the moment itself, as a piece of atmosphere and symbolism. it's his first year of being a gryffindor, and he's survived it, and it's sunny outside, and there's music playing.

there's also a fun nubbin of symbolism in that the song playing is supposed to be "white wedding," which is the epigraph from book 1 (and, in a sense, the whole fic), a song about redemption and starting over and yet also taking your past with you, as well as... well, a song about a wedding. so. take that as you will.

book two: narrowly, it's the moment at Theo's Yule Hunt party where narcissa has just collapsed, and the slytherins have all seen it. there's a beat where draco thinks they're going to turn on him, and use this vulnerability they've discovered to knife him in the back — only they don't. theo sizes him up and makes a call, and they help him get her out. daphne even breaks a school rule to do it. and pansy grouches and gripes about it — she gets in one jab about "hall-pass Slytherins," which still makes me giggle, to be honest — but she helps, too. it's a humanizing moment for them, and (hopefully) one of the first times we begin to see the slytherin kids as possible allies — utter brats, still, but nonetheless people with deeply cherished friendships, loyalties, and the capacity to show empathy and kindness for people they don't yet owe anything. it's maybe the most important moment of book 2, both in terms of theme and plotting.

book three: in terms of writing? i loved doing "The Last Marauder." god, what a fun chapter to write. sirius black's interactions with the golden quartet are some of the most entertaining exchanges in the series for me, bar none, because he's the furthest thing from a parental/supervisory figure that the kids have met (at least, that doesn't want to kill them). he's just unapologetically out of pocket in a way that's glorious for dialogue. (honorable mention here goes to daphne's moment at the League party, because when i finished the scene i sort of felt like daphne herself had burst into my room, held me at wandpoint, and demanded a larger role in the story. it was the moment she transformed in my mind from a tertiary character into a secondary one, and it was as glorious as you'd expect.)

as a moment per se, however, i think it has to be draco's patronus.

book four: "Padfoot Returns," by several orders of magnitude. no question. it's the scene that the whole series has really been building to, and writing it felt every ounce as cathartic as that sentence implies. i also got to do a lot of really fun imagery with smoke and rain and fog, and vamp a little about the ancient undying earth and the ghosts of Hogwarts castle, it was all just an uninterrupted pleasure, start to finish. took me about three weeks to get right, but it was three incredible weeks, let me tell you.

book five: so far, it's a scene in Myrtle's bathroom (which may or may not be cut for pacing reasons). after that, it's a duel in the Room of Requirement, because writing draco in fight scenes gets more and more fun every year.

#greenteacup asks #lionheart spoilers #lionheart #dramione #draco malfoy #<3

37 notes · View notes

greentrickster · 8 months

Text

chaoticgoodcryptid (from AO3) binghe getting the love and therapy he deserves is always SO good!!! also, YQY x TLJ? I've never considered it before but yeahhhhboi! this version of events is so beautiful, love to see them healing and also venting!! they usually keep all their trauma and messy feelings inside of them, so it's nice to see them doing the equivalent of yelling cathartically/ going to a pottery-breaking room hahaha wonder how they'd be like when they get into a relationship though haha, how would YQY respond to TLJ's shamelessness?

Oh, good question! Thinking about it... hmmm, I think Yue Qingyuan would actually enjoy how shameless Tianlang-jun is. A very large amount of Yue Qingyuan's large problems come from poor communication (on the part of him and other people) and, while Tianlang-jun might hide some of how he's really feeling under a deluge of 8D 8D 8D!!!! at times, he doesn't ever seem to hide the base emotions very much. Like, he might use a cheerful demeanor to hide how much he's hurting, but if he's angry at you, you know, and you will know why because he'll tell you. Again, maybe in a slightly round-about way, but you'll know.

And I think Yue Qingyuan appreciates that, possibly more than he realizes. He loved Shen Jiu flaws and all, part of him likely always will, but neither of them were willing or felt able to talk to each other about their hurts or why they're angry. So having someone who's so in-your-face about his everything, it can probably be overwhelming at times, but it makes things easier long-run.

As well as this, both of them found that Life-Changing Field Trip they took in the Demon Realm very liberating in a lot of ways. Like you said, both of them finally got to vent and have a proper fight (multiple times), get to know each other as people, and get some time to just... be, away from sects and followers and anyone who would judge them for their behaviour. Or, at least, anyone whose opinions they actually care about (currently). It gave them time and opportunity to bleed a lot of the poison out of their wounds.

And this also means that they were with each other after the fighting and the poison bleeding happened, for that tired, worn stage that comes afterwards and leads to healing. Because they're all each other has to lean on at the moment, they've said all they need to say, and they still need to rely on each other to get back to Cang Qiong (and to their preferred sex). I think this is the part where the bonding really started, because the masks were finally and fully down, and they could properly get to know each other.

I like to think that Yue Qingyuan has a mean streak to him, from the days he had to survive in the street; the 'perfect older brother figure' image he presents does have a lot of truth to it, but he's had a lot of pressure on him to be perfect, with this necessity being enforced when he tried to rush with his sword, so I think there's more under there that he's been keeping to himself for years. And I think Tianlang-jun likes this aspect when he learns of it, due to both his demonic and M tendencies. Which I think would be a relief for Yue Qingyuan to experience, to finally drop that mask and have his full self be accepted out of hand (even if it is only because Tianlang-jun initially is still working through his massive load of justifiable trust issues regarding cultivators).

As for Yue Qingyuan, I think he enjoys parts of Tianlang-jun's shamelessness, especially when it comes to affection. He has some limits to what he's willing to do in public, but this man has been affection-starved for decades, and I think he'd enjoy having a partner as openly and ardently devoted as Tianlang-jun can be, and would be happy to be able to return that affection with just as much openness. I feel like Tianlang-jun's vibe when he's in love is some variation of, "Listen, I know first hand how strong you are, and that's really hot, but also let me spoil you like a pampered little miss sometimes, okay?" Yeah, it's embarrassing sometimes, and they probably have some arguments over how much is too much, but overall I think he enjoys having a partner who's so over the top and overt in his affections.

As for Tianlang-jun, Yue Qingyuan's probably pretty different from Su Xiyan (I tend to see her written as being something of a spitfire who takes no crap from anyone (which, good for her)), much quieter and steadier. Willing to push back or stand his ground (post Life-Changing Field Trip, anyways), but generally still giving off that perfect serene immortal cultivator vibe. Which makes it all the more fun that he's willing to drop the act when they're alone together and be more open with his emotions and frustrations. I imagine the level of trust he's willing to place is Tianlang-jun is also kind of heady, and that our demon emperor enjoys how intense and low-key obsessive Yue Qingyuan can be in his love.

I also like the idea that, once they're married, they take turns playing at trophy husband, depending on whose place they are. Both for fun, and for how they balance being the respective heads of the demon realm and Cang Qiong Sect. They aren't the head of the demon realm or Cang Qiong sect when at their husband's house, just the man who their husband married.

Also, they both have really massive bedrooms. Overtly because they're such important, powerful men. Actually because they both have so much cave-related trauma, including a certain amount of claustrophobia.

Also also, all this means that, at some point, Binghe's going to have to deal with the fact that Sect Boss Yue's his stepdad, and I think that's beautiful.

#The Hopeful Hybrid's Househusbanding System #tianlang jun #yue qingyuan #scum villian self saving system #svsss #tianyue

23 notes · View notes

tickles-tea · 9 months

Note

Miguel + A, B, I, J? 👀

A: Aftercare | What is their aftercare like after a heavy round of tickling?

I like to think that he’d be very gentle and quietly sweet, holding you close and murmuring compliments or light playful insults lol

I don’t think he’d be over the top with taking care of you but he’d definitely watch you closely to see what you need so he can act accordingly

If he was tickling someone as a punishment for something, I feel like he’d keep up a faux annoyed act afterwards while making sure they were good at the same time lolol ruffling their hair while grumbling about how annoying they are but he’s not meeting their eyes bc he’s a little embarrassed haha

B: Bondage | How do they react to bondage, do they enjoy it and if yes, what is their favorite pose?

At first Miguel doesn’t see the appeal of bondage “dealing with so many spidermen and their faulty web shooters will do that to a guy” but once he tries it with someone he trusts, I think he would enjoy it! It’d take him a long time to relax into it, but once he does I think the vulnerability would be sort of relieving. He’s so used to shouldering the constant control and pressure required to run the spider society, so having no choice but to give in and let someone else take the reins could be cathartic for him ❤️

As for what pose, I don’t think he’d have a preference really. Probably just something comfortable that keeps his claws away from both his ler and the binds so he can’t accidentally free himself afshsjdks

I: Interrogation | How well would they handle a tickle interrogation?

He could hold out 😤

It would fucking suck because he’s really sensitive LMAO but he’s got a lot of stamina and endurance and he’s as stubborn as a mule

Though, with enough time, effort, and patience, I think you could break him~ enough to make him beg and plead at least. If you were asking for information that would hurt or compromise his friends or other people, he’d just suffer and take it :,)

J: Joy | Their absolute favorite thing about tickling?

He’d like being able to just let go for once orz

He can growl and squirm and hiss out threats all he wants but there comes a point where he just has to accept it and give in. He’s always on high alert, ready to take action at a moment’s notice or planning which action to take next, so even though he’d never admit it, he likes the break tickling gives his mind. After all, there’s no way to think about the multiverse collapsing with your hands wreaking havoc on his thighs 😘

[Send a Character + Letter and I’ll answer with my hcs!]

#thank you for the ask!! I hope you liked them ^^#spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o’hara #tickling #ticklish!miguel

27 notes · View notes

maester-of-spreadsheets · 25 days

Text

Tagged by @vonlipvig and it's come around at a great time because I've actually been finishing media lately. Imagine that.

Last song/piece I listened to: Chor Bazari from Love Aaj Kal. AZAD HOON MAIN TUJHSE! AZAD HAI TU MUJHSE! wait i just noticed that the lyrics are saying "now i'm free from you, now you're free from me" but it's using the most informal 'you.' Which kinda implies they still have a degree of emotional intimacy despite being exes. Despite the whole song being about how they're exes who are handling this reunion super maturely even if they're bemused by it all lol. Interesting.

youtube

(also Deepika was still in her awkward rookie actress phase here but I can see the glimmers of the kind of stuff that would go on to make her really good at more naturalistic roles.)

(great now I want to rewatch it even though I remember it being the platonic ideal of a timepass hahah. If only to rewatch the sequence where early on they have a 'we're breaking up!' party because they dont want to do long distance and then later on she calls him from the airport and they have this lighthearted conversation talking about their gripes with one another that they never mentioned in the relationship in order to keep the peace.)

Last book I read: Diavola by Jennifer Thorne. Horror novel about the bisexual disaster black sheep of a family going to a family reunion in Italy and... oops [cocks gun] villa's haunted.

On one hand is it kind of a mess with weird pacing and some dropped plot threads and it has multiple themes that don't quite congeal? Yes.

On the other hand, did it FUCK MAJORLY?? Yep!! Probably my favorite book I've read this year so far. So cathartic.

Last film I watched: Piku, solely to look at several actors' faces and it delivered on that front.

Last TV series: I don't... know? I think it might have been that documentary series about Nickelodeon. And I'm glad survivors got to tell their stories, but like a lot of recent true crime documentaries about systemic crimes I felt like it didn't go deep enough. For every Dan Schneider, there are quite a few people above people him in the corporate ladder who have to sign off on their abuses. But that's all very bleak so let's move on. (Also it turned out I am still not far away enough from The Old Job to really be able to deal with this content.)

Last video game: Pentiment! I was playing a "choose the rudest option" round and was shocked every character hated me.

Last thing I googled: Diavola to remind myself of the author's name.

Last thing I ate: Pasta and broccoli.

Sweet, savory, or spicy: Spicy.

Amount of sleep: As usual I genuinely don't know how much was actual sleep and how much was lying around half awake.

Currently reading: Uhhhh so many things. My Lent resolution to only read things I own and/or have started didn't go too well (but better than I had been before because I actually finished some things.) I'm probably going to try and make an effort to return Emily Wilson's Iliad translation and/or the biography on J. Dilla.

Currently watching: Uhhh does watching the Murder on the Orient Express play all the way through every other night count?

Tagging @onetrueharem @ponydeathisland @amarguerite @invaders-forever @sickfreaksirkay aaaand honestly everyone who wants to do. And doesn't want to YOU LOT ESPECIALLY

#Youtube

10 notes · View notes

t4tdrarry · 2 years

Text

hello friends! last month was full of wonderful reads that i’m excited to share. there’s a good variety of pairings this round of recs too, with majority drarry and a few others sprinkled in. wishing everyone another month of amazing fics in august! and now here are my favourite fics from july:

Drarry

The Heart of the Manor by @kedavranox | M | 3k

i love drarry and horror and this fic was masterful. it’s able to weave such a vividly eerie atmosphere with an incredible, ominous ending in only 3k words. skillfully concise and quick, it’s like a well placed gut punch in the best way possible.

Not Nineteen Forever by @sorrybutblog | E | 5k

i am a sucker for any fic involving de-aging/age difference between Harry and Draco, especially when it has a generous dose of pining. i absolutely loved younger draco in all his funny, sexy, teasing glory!

Progressive Displacement by GatewayGirl | E | 20k

this one was a reread, but one i’ll never get tired of. universe hopping is always so so fun, and all the different versions of harry and draco were amazing.

The Matchmaker’s Spell by @kbrick | E | 20k

messy drarry has such an exquisite flavour. their dynamic when it’s a little bit fucked up is just *chefs kiss* the energy of this fic is so wonderfully intense and i felt like i was buzzing the entire time i was reading it. and can we talk about that ending? brilliant!

The Day Before the Wedding by @kbrick | E | 39k

when i saw that kbrick dropped a new fic and that it was a timeloop fic, i pretty much dropped everything to read it. harry reliving the day before he gets married to ginny over and over is all at once spectacularly calamitous and cathartic. harry and draco both work for their growth in this one, and the timeloop aspect is done wonderfully, as per expected from kbrick!

The Art of Our Necessities by dcfg21 | E | 52k

this one was another reread and one that i’d consider one of my personal drarry classics, at least in the vampire genre. we have unhinged vampire harry who is bonded to draco to keep him on a leash, with a gloriously hot dynamic featuring a possessive and protective harry. i love how much these two cant help but want each other. a drarry vampire must-read.

The Remnant by @kbrick | E | 71k

i must admit that i went on a bit of a kbrick splurge this month but i couldn’t resist this one when i saw the demonic possession tag,, possessed harry has got to be one of the most creepy hot things i’ve read and i thoroughly enjoyed everything about it (as did draco 😳)

Others

Snarry

Ingredients of Respect by Lizzy0305 | E | 27k

harry gaining a genuine interest in potions is something i love reading, especially when severus helps him realize it. but when harry also gains an interest in severus, the tension is strikingly hot. i loved the dynamic between them!

In Between Days by atrata | E | 68k

the characterization of snape in this fic is so good! he’s the perfect mix of bitterness, snark, and self loathing. paired with a messy, angsty harry, you get a snarry dynamic that feels absolutely electric.

Tomarymort

Break it Down by @acciotomriddle | M | 1k

prisoner voldemort and harry in a smutty power struggle? yes, please.

Dark Heritage by @dropsofnightshade | 342k

it’s always lovely reading harry-gets-adopted-by-adult-who-actually-treats-him-well stories. i especially liked the depiction of the black family in this one! and harry’s relationship with the greengrass family was such a treat as well. also notable is the world building, wizarding politics and dark magic!

Sirius/Voldemort

It runs in the blood by @metalomagnetic | E | 121k

this fic has haunted my mind since i started reading it. voldemort courting sirius to be a death eater, and maybe even more was something i didn’t know i needed until i got it and then suddenly it was all i’ve ever wanted. this fic immersed me into a setting i don’t read too often—during the first war with voldemort. and we really get into the thick of it with sirius and all his different interactions. highly recommend!

201 notes · View notes

best-underrated-anime · 6 months

Text

Best Underrated Anime Group B Round 1: #B4 vs #B5

#B4: Human falls in love with an android

This anime is a 13-episode Sci-fi romance story about eighteen-year-old Tsukasa Mizugaki, who lands a job at Sion Artificial Intelligence Corporation ( SAI Corps). SAI corps has created Giftias, androids that are nearly identical to humans. Giftias have one major difference from humans in that they are only allowed to live for 9 years and 4 months before they start to break down.

Tsukasa is partnered with a Giftia named Isla. Slowly, they begin to fall in love.

#B5: (Mostly) unexperienced college track team aims for big race

It’s a sports anime which focuses on a college running team. Their goal? To run the Hakone Ekiden, a famous marathon relay race. The catch? With two notable exceptions of their captain and their latest recruit, this team is composed entirely of amateurs. Does this mess of a team stand any chance of even qualifying for the race?

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#B4: Plastic Memories

youtube

Propaganda 1:

This anime is a heart-wrenching masterpiece. It is slow, tender, and incredibly cathartic. The art is beautiful, and the story is enchanting. Of all the random anime I watched in middle school, this one really stuck with me.

Propaganda 2:

My brother and I watched it together. He ugly sobbed at it so hard, he had to go stand outside and weep down the phone to someone and my mom thought that he’d received news of someone’s actual death. He was okay, though, I promise

Trigger Warnings: [Not Stated]

#B5: Run with the Wind (Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru)

youtube

Propaganda 1:

Okay so finally a sports anime that isn't set in high school. (There aren't nearly enough set in college.) MC is basically Older Running Kageyama, in both looks and personality. He has to overcome his past issues with his old track team, and learn to open up. I love the relationships that form between the team members. There's one who is just Not Here for It and struggles A Lot, who just wants to go home and read manga. (Hey it me.) There's also a cute dog, and a lot of the bg music is by the same folks as Haikyuu.

Propaganda 2:

I genuinely think this might be the best sports anime out there. It’s an amazing anime in general, with good animation, a beautiful art show, and a great premise, though what really makes it stand out is the characters.

RWTW is a character-driven story at heart, with all the main characters given their time to shine. The main cast is very lovable, and their relationships with each other are depicted in a sweet but realistic way. The protagonist, Kakeru, goes through a great character development over the course of the show, from being a lonely outcast at the start to accepting the other team members into his heart as found family.

While I’m not a runner personally, I still found this interesting to watch, since along with the training there’s a lot of thoughtful discussion on the nature of running: what it means to run, to be a runner. There’s a very philosophical aspect to it, which makes sense considering that RWTW is actually adapted from a book. The last thing I’ll say is that as a college student myself, it’s really nice to watch an anime focused on people in college and not high school. Oh, and the soundtrack is incredible.

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol and Smoking

If you’re reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

#anime #best underrated anime #polls #poll tournament #tournament #anime tournament #animation #animated show #group stage #group stage round 1 #tournament polls #plastic memories #plamemo #run with the wind #kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #group b

17 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs