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nereidprinc3ss · 9 months

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relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light.

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look.

“Hello to you too...”

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?”

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?”

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest.

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!”

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and--

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening.

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look.

“I’m literally offering to help you.”

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?”

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air.

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.”

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters.

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...

But the essay...

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands.

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled.

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.”

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently.

Oh?

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face.

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down.

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously.

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.”

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush.

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies.

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-”

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh.

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly.

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.”

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?”

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More?

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right.

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?”

You flush.

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.

“I made you cum three times, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear.

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.”

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.”

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body.

“Who’s that for?”

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan.

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable.

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in.

“Look at that,” he breathes.

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them.

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance.

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more.

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it.

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently.

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather.

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!”

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit.

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well.

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.”

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming.

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want.

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster.

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest.

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.”

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry.

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins.

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip.

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying.

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down.

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.

“Feel better?”

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt.

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?”

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.”

“What kind of tears?”

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you.

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—”

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine

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syoddeye · 23 days

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down the hatch / badgering

141 x f!reader | ~1.9k | series page tags: p in v sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, bad jokes, manipulation, spanking, manhandling a/n: you know that tunnel scene in willy wonka and the chocolate factory? that's how it feels when i write this. a hoot and a half. banner by @/cafekitsune.

it’s an adjustment. living with roommates again. roommates who refuse to leave, thanks to all the death and destruction outside. convenient excuse, really.

no more naked mornings. you could go tits out—they fucking do—but you’re not entirely without reason. as salivating as they are, the hunks are your enemies.

even if they’ve showered, trimmed, and got some of the bloodstains out of their clothes.

even if soap makes canned meat and powdered eggs palatable, whipping up a spam and rice bowl for you without asking.

even if gaz finds a five-hundred-piece puzzle on a scavenging trip and bites his tongue when you bat his hand away when he tries to help sort the pieces.

even if ghost slips a game of hangman under your door at lights out, and lets you guess a couple of letters each night. (first word? ‘wanker’. second? ‘larynx.’)

even if john—well, wait, no. the asshole hasn’t made a peace offering. probably because he knows you won’t honor them or because he’s sore about the whole ‘no cool nickname’ thing. whatever.

at night, alone in your room, you plot. how does one evict four man-roaches? make living with you worse than living outside.

in a weird way, your austrian neighbor and his aspirations for a fucking von trapp family: the squeakuel comes in handy. he hoarded all types of junk.

soap’s your guinea pig. he’s moody. something’s always itching under his skin. he snaps at the other men too easily and watches you like a dog admiring meat hanging off a bone. opportunity arrives one morning when john and gaz head topside and ghost settles in the living room. you corner the scotsman in the bunker’s tiny gym.

you linger in the doorway, fixated on the dark shapes under soap’s armpits. his mohawk sags, beads of sweat streaking over the freshly shorn hair. down his flexing muscles. and the grunting, christ. it’s a peek into heaven, which makes ruining it difficult.

without a word, you plop onto the other bench and take up the clarinet you found in your room. channeling the gusto of gus polinski, you wet your lips. how hard can it be? you don’t know polka, but you know rossini.

soap’s head snaps at the opening notes, nearly fumbling a pair of dumbbells, his face a flurry of anger, amusement, and annoyance. it’s a valiant effort, his ignoring you, but in the end, you only make it halfway through your best attempt at the william tell overture before he cracks. he rips the instrument from your hands and tosses it aside. he stands over you, smelly and slick, breathing heavily through his nose.

you end up dragging him to your room.

soap is the definition of a romp in the sheets. a no-holds-barred deathmatch. it’s the first dick you’ve caught in months, and what a reintroduction. a miracle the bed survives. he starts with his mouth sealed to your clit, tongue working like it’s making up for lost time, as if your cunt and his face go way back. it’s refreshing, but you saw how fast he dropped to his knees for gaz.

two orgasms slip out by the time he wrenches off his damp clothes, chin glistening and eyes glittering. he goes cross-eyed the second his dick slaps against your folds, and you laugh at his desperate groaning when he sinks in. though, your laughs are choked off by his sudden, furious thumbing of your clit. (you punch him in the stomach—ignoring the filthy moan that elicits—and hiss out, “a genie isn’t gonna come out, stop fucking rubbing so hard!”) he ends up coming on your stomach and contorts to lick it off, muttering little gratitudes into your skin. it’s…cute. kind of gross, but cute. you kick him out after a power nap.

soap’s a wash. ba-dum tish. try, try again.

you set your sights on gaz. he’s tricky.

it quickly becomes apparent he’s the best at scavenging. smug about it, too, which you leverage. his ego’s easy enough to feed despite his unease. all it takes is batting your lashes and complimenting his hauls.

amazing. this must be the last jar of berbere ever.

pads? for me? so considerate, i’m stunned.

a mostly intact game of monopoly? wow, here, i thought we were done with landlords and taxes.

it’s simple. you begin with small requests. toothpicks. socks. lip balm. when he returns, he drops the goods in your lap like a cat with a mouse. stares at you with those pretty eyes while you lay it on thick.

you escalate. either he’ll die on your absurd fetch quests or go crazy trying to fulfill them. brand new period panties. a specific type of hair dye. unopened baby lotion. naturally, he can’t find any of them. he still delivers approximations—granny pants, food coloring, and half a bottle of moisturizer—with a hopeful smile you crush under feigned hums of disappointment. ah, well, if this is the best you can do. it chips away at him. his smiles tighten.

you figure he’ll make a dumb mistake on his next outing out of some fucked desperation, and you’ll be down a roach. but after you tell him to keep an unopened pack of nail varnish because they aren’t your colors, he loses it. this time, you’re dragged to bed.

gaz pins you to the mattress, one hand on your throat and the other shoved into your leggings. pupils blown to the point where they’re shark-like. you’d spare a thought for all the poor creatures dead in aquarium tanks across the globe if he wasn’t hellbent on shoving a third finger in.

“so bloody irritating,” gaz seethes. “spoiled and greedy. have you always been a brat, or am i special?”

you spend your ration of oxygen wisely. “i think you think you’re special.”

for that, your knees meet your chest, and your pussy nearly chokes his dick. or so he tells you, pure filth spewing from his mouth. you giggle madly through the slight pinch of pain, mirroring the feral grin on his face. he’s big, and you could be wetter, but you’re not on your back for good behavior. he’s happy to tell you about that, too. how awful you are.

disappointingly, it doesn’t take long for him to lose his grasp on language. a shame, given his shit talk.

he bats your hand away from your clit when you try to coax your orgasm along. clicks his tongue, eyes half-mast, and smirks. “gonna be good? gonna thank me?”

in another world, you’d nod. whatever you say, beautiful. in this world, however, you flip the bird, and he flips you.

gaz pants like a bull, pulling you back onto his cock with an iron grip on your hips. his hand comes down across your ass, but there’s this je ne sais quoi missing. it’s the thought that counts, you guess.

after he makes a mess, you fully expect gaz to continue his tirade. instead, he finds a towel. he rolls you over and tucks you in. thanks you. it’s a shame memoirs are meaningless now as the perfect title comes to mind: ‘bunker bumping: backshots in the apocalypse’.

okay. zero for two. historically, settling for 50% isn’t unlike you.

back at the drawing board, you reevaluate. annoying the men to death hasn’t worked, and they’re exceptionally durable in dogshit conditions. each day, they get closer to rigging the equipment necessary to contact their ‘friends’, seemingly unperturbed by your efforts. in fact, they seem more comfortable. at home. they poke around the utility room to assess what needs maintenance or improvement. the nerve.

it’s untenable. no matter what that dumb voice in your head insists, you miss solitude. miss not having an audience. you want to watch leon and the silence of the lambs without commentary. dance naked. leave the toilet door open.

you withdraw.

the bedroom becomes your bunker within the bunker. you take meals alone. painstakingly move your puzzles and hoard books. shower at night after they go to bed. ignore them in the halls. keep your mouth shut when someone addresses you. it’s a fruitless endeavor, keeping your head in the sand, but a part of you hopes if you become as unobtrusive as possible, they’ll forget you exist. after all, they have each other. they put those squeaky single beds through the wringer.

problem is, you don’t account for scragglebeard himself. nosy fucker.

it happens on shower night. towel-clad and testy, you trudge from the bathrooms and find your door open. you freeze in the hall, hearing clinking sounds and lowered voices. gaz and soap emerge, ferrying dishes and dirty clothes, not sparing so much as a glance. your stomach twists, immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario. they’re reclaiming the space, and they’re finally going to kill you.

unfortunately, it’s not so simple.

“whatever this is,” john sternly says the second you enter the room, “we’re going to fix it.”

ghost traipses past, arms full of unopened cans and more dishware. you glare at his back, then turn to john.

“get the fuck out.”

he chuckles. “sweetheart, what’s not clickin’? this isn’t just your shelter anymore.”

“got it,” ghost reenters, a roll of duct tape held aloft.

well. you had a nice run. sure, the calamity was a setback, but considering you probably lasted longer than everyone you ever hated, present company aside, that’s a tick in the win column.

however, ghost doesn’t bind your limbs or cover your mouth. he crouches at the ventilation shaft connecting our rooms, rips off several pieces of tape, and covers most of the grid. “you fuckin’ talk in your sleep.” he points at the small hole he left uncovered and stands. “my bed’s right through ‘ere. it’s fuckin’ unsettlin’.” grumbling, he shuffles out once more.

john’s not shy about scanning you from top to bottom, but apparently, he doesn’t like what he sees. he turns away. “what are we missing?”

you pick through what’s left of your clean clothes. “loaded question.” poking your head through a shirt, you shimmy the towel to your hips.

“where else would you find a clarinet?”

“up your–” he glares over his shoulder, and you smile sweetly. “there’s a small storage space in the closet here. it’s empty now.”

“we found the surveillance room and utilities. it stands to reason that there are others.” john scratches his chin, watching you like a hawk as you pull on shorts.

“oh. you think?”

“i do.”

“well, think outside of my room. i’m going to bed.” you move to the bed and listen to john close the distance. he hovers, his breath hitting your neck in an exasperated huff. it sends a shiver down your spine. you bet he’s got what gaz was missing—experience behind the swing of his palm.

“like it or not, sweetheart, we’re sticking around. now, i’d prefer it if we kept things civil. based on what the boys told me, i know you’re capable of being friendly.”

it’s not the smartest decision in the world, wheeling on a man trained to kill. he catches your wrist as it winds up and twists it sharply behind your back. with one solid push, you get a mouthful of linen as your body promptly hinges at the waist. an angry string of obscenities gets lost in the sheets. you’ve never been so humiliated. or breathtakingly aroused.

john tuts.

“bad call, badger.”

#poly141 #141 x reader #141 x f!reader #you’re what the french call les incompétents.#irreverent. dumb. horny.

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cordeliawhohung · 5 months

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uhm enjoy this totally self indulgent hurt/comfort pornstar!gaz x reader where you fake an orgasm on set (:

Two hours isn’t an uncommon amount of time for a shoot. Even for the most experienced of actors, there are plenty of position changes, water breaks, and directions to be given that always bogs down film time in some capacity. You’re used to it. You’d been in that industry for years, so you know how to pass the time, especially when filming with Kyle. He always knows how to make you laugh, how to strike up a conversation as lights and camera angles are adjusted — it’s always nice with him.

But something is different about today. It feels painfully long, like you’ve spent a majority of your day there rather than just a handful of hours. You’re more quiet than usual, and when Kyle attempts to strike up a conversation, your responses are just as empty as your eyes. A terrible glossiness has taken over their usual beautiful sheen, yet you still push through in all the obnoxious angles the director has you contort into in order to give the viewers the best visual possible.

Kyle notices almost immediately. There’s something empty and numb in the way your body reacts to his touches. Your pretty moans sound dull when he pumps two thick fingers into you, and your brows don’t pinch together when he whispers in your ear. When he sinks his cock into your cunt after an overly drawn out foreplay period, you don’t flutter around him like you normally do. All your little tells — those delicious tells — have suddenly vanished off the face of the earth, leaving the studio feeling empty as he ruts into you.

Really, you’re just glad your face is in the mattress while Kyle fucks you, because you don’t think you could look him in the eyes. Not when you’re feeling like that. It’s as if some void has taken up the space in your chest just for something rotten and vile to fester in the darkness. Nothing feels good. It doesn’t feel bad either, it’s just so far out of your reach you don’t even bother trying to chase it.

You’re so… tired. Tired of filming, of being there in that fucking studio as people peer at you from behind cinema cameras and lights so bright you’re all but promised a migraine later. You just want it to be over; to go home and sleep until whatever that darkness is finally passes, so you do the unthinkable.

You’ve never had to fake an orgasm with Kyle before. He always takes such good care of you, always is so attentive and in tune with your needs and desires, but you’ve done it so many times before with other actors that it’s easy. It’s easy to wrench your eyes shut as you force your thighs to tremble, and you moan and groan like a pathetic bitch in heat just how you know the viewers like. What makes it difficult is that Kyle’s pace slows, as if trying to gently fuck you through the orgasm that was never even on the crux of arriving.

The moment he pulls out and tells the director he’s done for the day, you know you’ve fucked up.

“Huh?” the director asks as if baffled.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Kyle repeats.

“We’ve got Viagra on hand if you need it,” the director says, trying to convince him to go longer.

“I said that’s enough.”

You bury your face further into the fresh linens at Kyle’s biting tone. You’ve never heard him sound so stern before; not the playful and teasing Kyle Garrick. It was enough to get the director to give in, and you hear a symphony of sighs echo throughout the room as everyone starts to tear the set down. Though all you wanted to do was go home, you couldn’t bring yourself out of the sheets. Maybe you didn’t really want to go home at all; just melt into the bed until there was nothing of you left.

Plush fabric brushes against your back, causing you to jolt. Kyle smooths your robe over your body as he gently urges you to sit up so you can get your arms through the sleeves.

“C’mon,” he quietly prompts, “let’s get cleaned up.”

Once you are both properly wrapped in your robes, Kyle keeps an arm snug around your waist as he leads you into your dressing room. Usually the two of you go your separate ways once the cameras stop rolling, but he doesn’t this time. He closes and locks the door behind both of you as you mindlessly wander towards the counter. Pressure begins to build behind your eyes as white hot shame boils in your stomach, climbing up your chest and into your face.

Kyle lets you run away for only a short moment before he’s crossing the distance between the door and the counter, hands ready to mend whatever is broken. You want to retract, to continue to hide away instead of facing the beast eating you from the inside out, but your fortitude breaks the moment his hands reach your shoulders.

“Doll,” he says, voice so soft it’s as if he fears he’ll shatter you with words alone. “Where’s your head at?”

You refuse to look at him, and instead your eyes keep glued to his chest as you keep your head lowered. The biting sting of tears builds in your eyes just as your bottom lip begins to tremble. It’s impossible to articulate the way bile eats at your esophagus just at the thought of trying to spill your guts to anyone, let alone Kyle. You try in vain to keep a straight face, but your sniffling has already given you away.

“You know you don’t have to fake it with me, yeah? If you’re not into it, we can always stop,” Kyle then says.

Wide eyes suddenly pierce through Kyle’s face as you look up at him, bewildered. “You could tell?” you ask as your voice cracks.

It’s difficult for him to find the words to explain how familiar your body is to him. How he has every inch of it ingrained in his mind as if it had never been separate from him at all. Yet you give him no time to even think before your hands are pawing at your eyes as you try and wipe away your tears.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything feels so off, but everyone was already getting set up and I just- I don’t know,” you ramble.

“Hey, hey,” Kyle shushes. His hands glide from your shoulders to your cheeks where he holds your head in place, forcing you to look at him. His touch is almost as warm as his eyes are as he studies your face, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he continues. “You don’t have to explain anythin’ to me. We all have those days. Just… promise me next time you’ll talk to me. I don’t wanna fuck you if you’re not into it.”

His words destroy you in a way nothing else has, and it’s enough to really get the waterworks running. Despite it all, his gaze is soft as his thumbs brush your cheeks, and you begin to melt into him as your hands reach for his chest for stability.

“I promise. I’m sorry, I promise,” you sob.

Kyle cradles the back of your head as he holds you in the tightest embrace you’ve ever received. The soft fabric of his robe soaks up your tears as your body rattles with each cry that escapes. Soft kisses press against the crown of your head as he holds you together, refusing to let you crumble.

He doesn’t pull away until you do, and you wipe at your wet face. Crying doesn’t make you feel any better than you thought it would, and if anything it leaves you feeling emptier than before. But Kyle doesn’t give up on you. It isn’t long before the dressing room fills with steam from the running shower and he’s leading you in there with your hand in his.

Hot water washes over your body while Kyle scrubs you clean. There’s something holy about the way his hands glide over your skin, as if he’s cleaning you from the inside out. Neither of you say a word, you just stand there and let him work at you until your muscles loosen and you’re so tired you’re certain you’ll fall asleep on your feet.

Kyle guides your heavy head up to look at him, and you watch his eyes take in the sight of your tired lids. Concern is still etched deep into his features even as his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. Gears begin to visibly turn in his mind, and you feel your chest expand with something warm. His mouth twitches before it lands on yours, stealing you away with a kiss. There’s something different about this kiss. It’s leagues different from the ones he normally gives you on set; the primal, messy kiss where his tongue slips into your mouth as if he’s trying to devour you.

No, there is something different in the softness of it all. How he’s not trying to devour you as much as he is trying to know you. When his lips break away from yours just to dive back in for more, you nearly confuse it for love. You’re not sure what it is, or what it’s supposed to be; all you know is that it leaves you feeling a little less empty and only wanting more.

#pornstar!gaz #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x reader smut #kyle garrick x reader smut #f!reader

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whirlpool-blogs · 21 days

Text

whirlpool's personal MOTA fic recs!

I've actually been dying to put this together for a while now...today is as good an excuse as any! I might not know everyone's tumblrs vs ao3 names so I will NOT be offended if you tell me to correct something!! <3

the big list = going alphabetical order in my folder because YES I do download my favorites, it's like having your own little bookshelf!!

non-clegan fics:

nine mothers' sons by @reallylilyreally (truly beautiful, breathtaking, and **THE** John Brady bible for the fandom so make sure you pray to it every night)

at your heels by @reallylilyreally (this one is Ev Blakely, another really beautiful story that helps you understand just why Crosby's memoir speaks of Blakely with such love and affection)

clegan (or gale-centric, or john-centric) fics:

A Direct Solution by @sweaterkittensahoy (Gale & Marge proposition Bucky...so cute and so hot)

ain't it easy? by @stereobone (dom/sub with john as the dom but ohhh man it's so much more than just that!!!!! this fic is so full of FEELS. and it's also HOTTTT. and also the FEELSSSSS.)

all the rest of what I want with you by @london-cowboy (the level of care that went into writing this fic is insane and impeccable. down to its own internal timeline, little egan kiddos, and the ANGST. but it's all worth it, I promise!!)

back home where you're from, that's the measure of a man by wolfhalls (nice little oneshot of the bucks, I love the back-and-forth of their dialogue in this one, it really does feel like two people who know each other well)

bittersweet between my teeth by @blixabargelds (post-war adjustment...love when the two majors are a little messy and a little sad and also john calls gale the prettiest thing he ever saw so there's that <3)

bluebirds singing a song by ourdarkspirits (Marge jumps Bucky's bones. Then Gale joins. Super fun, super hot!)

Close and Yet Closer by Anonymous (LITERALLY THE MOST!!!!!! FIC OF ALL TIME!!!!!!! Gale is a little bit mean and John is a lot bit sweaty. Like all the time. it's amazing and you should read it and it WILL change your life.)

Corpse Song by birdwif (oof. john is miserable in the stalag he's scratching at the door he's gnawing his own leg off.)

deep breath baby by @defnotanarc (um FISTING. yeah. intense and delicious. side note sometimes the world isn't fair and people who are really talented and amazing at drawing are also really good WRITERS too LIKE WTF!!)

DOG DINNER by @wompire (super interesting writing style, extremely poetic and striking. hits you right in the gut.)

everything and the kitchen sink by @swifty-fox (YEAH THIS ONE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE TOO. modern au where gale is a professional dom and john is a journalist who hornily consents to both (1) fucking around, and (2) finding out. in top ten fics of the decade in general tbh)

Freed From Desire by @feyd-meowtha (yoooooo such a fun and free and sexy fic!!! such a great writing style and such a cool remix of all the characters we know and love!)

He wears his love around his neck by kasugayamaisforlovers (Gale character study, he tries to run his little gay thoughts away which is always so fun to see)

hold me like a knife by storm_warning (tw: self-harm, this REALLY gets into John's self-destructive stalag spiral and it's super visceral and wet and heart-wrenching and written with such, such care and precision)

Hound Within the Heart by Anonymous (fairy-tale esque, gets super crazy and pushes the limits of reality but in the best ways possible)

I Don't Wanna Be Alone Tonight by @johnslittlespoon (cuddling for warmth <3 and then a little more <3 <3 so sweet and intimate!!)

I Like A Bad Boy by @nicijones (modern college AU and bucky is a fratty fuckboy type & in this fic he DOES punch a guy for Gale and it's all very hot and sweet and a delight to read)

i wish you wouldn't tell me (about your hawaiian party) by @whitetrashjj (when the fuckbuddies thing gets messyyyyyy because gale catches feelingsssssss, so delicious and meaty!!)

if that isn’t love, it’ll have to do by @irregularcollapse (ALWAYS such incredible character reads from this author, never misses. also facefucking. also FACEFUCKING <3)

i'll be seeing you by @puffanities (a quick 1.6k oneshot but still packed with some really great characterization and powerful language!! 'when the numbers of planes don’t match...')

i'll find you before the dust settles by butidontreallycare (a Westworld AU!! super cool)

in our bedroom after the war by @stereobone (one of those fics that's just like. a pillar of the community, y'know? iconic. classic. eternal.)

Into the Unknown by Melanie_Mikaelson (big win for john whump enjoyers. BIG win. like 20+ chapters of winning)

it ain't for meatball by @meyerlansky (Curt/Bucky. Curt puts the dog collar on Bucky....and it's HOTTTT arf arf i'm barking just like bucky is in this fic...)

It's Not Love, but It's Fun by @sweaterkittensahoy (Curt/Bucky, 500 words so it's short and sweet just like Curt ahahahaha, ANYWAY still such an interesting little read regardless!)

judgment by the hounds by @puffanities (PG, very visceral and tender apology after the stalag fight scene <3)

level-off maneuvers by wormringers (sweet little oneshot of the Bucks in London)

little fix by ForASecondThereWedWon (Algeria <3 <3 you just kNOW those two gay pilots were sniffing and huffing and licking each other's sweat.....this author GETS it)

love means nothing (in tennis) by @irregularcollapse (fics that make you go WEEEEEEEE!!!! every word, every physical action that these characters take is SO precise and well-written. truly like wrapping a soft bathrobe around yourself and also the bathrobe is incredibly sexy and also they're sucking each other off post-game but PRE-shower. also gale's dad!! also margie!! truly such a well crafted AU)

make you feel alive by @sig-nifier (really sweet little oneshot of gale being a little protective of john. and i am ALWAYS a sucker for the 'call off your dog' trope... and it's done perfectly here!)

meet me at the chapel by @swifty-fox (still in-progress and SUCH a creative, inventive universe!! outlaw john you will always be famous to me!!!!)

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder by @swifty-fox (swift can really weave a story like no one else. so many lines that pack a punch. and in the end, they make it <3)

my type by @spaceshipkat (this one is SOOOOO well-written, I always go so crazy for the dialogue!!! such a great push-pull dynamic in this fic)

night terror by @antiquitea (hot! and sweet! and HOT! and angsty!!!!! highlights include: gale gives john a literal countdown deadline to get off)

Obligate Mutualism by bowhuntress (Gale-centric story of trying to get John through the stalag, then returning the England without Bucky, a fic very obviously written with a lot of care and love)

obsessions, and other things by @sig-nifier (the Bucks cope. really great pacing and dialogue, and I always love when fics take the care to delve into john's struggle with alcoholism as well)

of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world (he walks into mine) by @whitetrashjj (really fun parallel universe where Buck owns a bar, just a great read all-around!)

Oh, I do, do I? by @defnotanarc (DIRTY TALK, like the most delicious, incredible dirty talk you can imagine, this fic nails it!!)

One of your Girls by @soliloquy-dawn (9k oneshot and it's great all the way through, Gale is jealousssss of John fucking around, don't worry they resolve it <3, definitely captures that innocence of pre-Bremen MOTA episodes)

peacetime like a liminal space by @spaceshipkat (this one is PHENOMENAL. post-war, John goes to New York City and turns out it doesn't fill the emptiness. luckily Gale shows up. <3)

Putting Words to It by @impalachick (YEAH THIS ONE IS REALLY HOT. John is a snoop and reads Gale's letters to Marge <3)

Reunited by Flowersandthings (PG, cute & funny oneshot of the Bucks being reunited after Gale makes it over from Greenland!)

Reverie by @avonne-writes (REALLY creative, well-crafted story. Gale and John are soulmates and can visit each other's dreams since adolescence. INCREDIBLE journey and arc in this story, the stalag part is just wow. truly such a gift to the fandom!!).

Rugire by Anonymous (umm omegaverse-ish but with deer dynamics. messy. and SO good.)

SHOTGUN. by pornogirl (YEAH this one is awesome, it's not safe it's not sane but oh boy it is consensual)

Song of Songs by @swifty-fox (sweaty sex sweaty sex sweaty sex)

Spin, Sit, Roll-Over by @glumbabie (Gale is a little mean to John and it's VERY sexy of him tbh. 'DOGS DON'T TALK'???? 'YOU CAN EAT'???????? yeah. read this.)

the chimneys hardly ever fall down by @redbelles (another Gale/Marge + John, and it's HOT. it's SEXY it's awesome!!)

the hand of a good man by @stereobone (John rewrites Gale's daddy history <3)

the jacket by @dogmetaphors (REALLY great sense of dialogue and characterization even in 1.6k words, also shamelessly horny and SO yummy)

The Major’s Wife by tryingmyhandatwriting (John/Original Female Character but like. give this one a chance, I'm telling you!! I'm always soooo compelled by sex scenes that like. are actually a little bit unhappy. and this one SERVESSSSS.)

this must be the place by @blixabargelds (BIG win for Gale whumpers. broken bone and LOTS of blood and super well-written)

To be alone with you by Damn_Illusive (THIS ONE IS SO, SO SPECIAL AND CREATIVE!! freaky army experimentation gives gale and john telepathic communication. incredible separation arc while gale is in the stalag. really, really unique story that is such a staple in my mind as one of the the most incredible clegan stories ever. I think about this one A LOT!!!)

To the Moon and Back by @rambleonwaywardson (iconic astronaut AU, written with SUCH care and love, it's so obvious!! and BIG win for john whumpers. who said that -)

Tough And Sweet (Like You And Me) by @johnslittlespoon (sooo fun and creative and inventive, Bikeriders-esque!Gale and a sweeter, more innocent John. really well crafted)

trading paper dolls by ForASecondThereWedWon (Alex draws Gale pinup girl style in the stalag.....John swipes it.... super great fic!)

two slow dancers by everywordnotsaid (unrequited love, John for Gale, through their journey. I genuinely, actually sobbed for a long time at the conclusion of this fic. I am always thinking about this fic. I think it really captures something about the experience of watching the show and realizing in that hopeless, lovesick kind of way that there's no way to go back in time and save all of them. I still get teary whenever I think about this story or hear the song. It's one of those fics that's not just good, not just great, but somehow also really fucking IMPORTANT. this story MATTERS. you should absolutely read it and save it and imprint it onto your heart. I know it's imprinted onto mine.)

Un Chant d’Amour by @counting0nit (really intriguing take on the interrogation center time frame!)

unicorns, and other extinct animals by @spaceshipkat (really, really incredible reading experience. something that actually touches other aspects of my life, even now. I see planes overhead and I think about this fic. I see letters on a table and I think about this fic. just. this author GETS IT, you know? just absolutely nails every aspect of this kind of fic: post-war adjustment, the pain, the LOVE. this fic will make you FEEL it. let it happen.)

Up In Our Bedroom by @steeseman (ICONIC. really one of those pillars of the community type fics, y'know? it's funny and it's sweet and it's painful and the hot parts are HOT. clearly written with SO much care, and SO much love, and SO much precision. every single word packs a punch. absolutely one of my top reads of all time, across time, across fandoms)

When the bones are good by @aramblingjay (a really incredible post-war fic, such a beautiful, rich writing style!! isn't afraid to dig at the hard parts - john's relationship with alcohol, their nightmares from the war. stunning visuals -- the author uses setting and place and motion in such a tangible, real way. I can still see the little hideout spot in my mind's eye, even now. one of those fics that's just. such a treasure to the fandom.)

your dreams, whatever they be by @drylite (this one is super new, and it's just SUCH solid writing!)

You're A Dog (I'm Your Man) by @johnslittlespoon (one of those fics that's a pillar of the fandom for SURE!!! definitely a classic)

#mota fic #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #I LOVE U ALL SO MUCH #you're all so talented and creative!!!!!!#post

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donutz · 2 months

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OOOO SEBASTION SOLACE X CYBORG READER WHO’S A RECKLESS, LAIDBACK ADRENALINE-JUNKIE??? :DDDDDDDDD

PRETTY PLEASEEEEE

(also do u write for block tales by chance :>)

HEHEHEHWHAHGAGAGAHRRTHG

Sebastian Solace x cyborg! reader

The Sun and the Moon

— I do in fact not write for Block Tales, but I've played it before! I also apologize for taking long to get this out, I was with my best friend for a few days ^_^

Warnings: If you want to know how Reader looks then their head is like this and their body is like this; It doesn't have to be your exact body shape, but that's just how it looks; No, the body doesn't give you your gender, you're always gender neutral in my fanfics(Unless specified in a request); Reader is 11'8, I used a wheel for that

‘Wow this place is bigger than I thought’.

You looked around, the sound of your super cool boots clanking against the ground with a deeper sound. Your (To humans) heavy right arm swinging while your left hand is gripping your hip.

Your head turning to the left and right, with a grin on your face.

“Cool!” You shouted, making a surprised face with cartoon-like pursed lips.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud”.

The speakers cut on, a man’s voice booming throughout the site. With a slight jump, you look up at the ceiling.

‘Hm, that’s uhh. Dark’.

“Continue to move on towards the marked path”.

“What marked path?” You looked down at the floor, seeing a line of green pipes. “I don’t think that’s the path but okay”.

You wonder how that man even saw you, you’re not even a prisoner here. Well— You currently aren’t a prisoner.

Not anymore.

You’re quite the tall figure, so you had to crouch to get through the door. You found whatever was in the rooms fascinating!

At times you would run too fast and accidentally run into a wall. Being clumsy and ignoring every scream of pain. Sometimes bumping your head under a desk.

“I mean— confident chuckle, Yeah I could probably bust a pipe or two but it’s not even that bad! Just a wrench is all I need”!

“... Where could I even get a wrench”?

Door after door it was starting to get boring, minus that green shark that swam in front of the windows.

You were pretty bored, until you stepped upon a room that was a mix of bright and dark.

‘Wow it’s even more boring in here’.

You let out an annoyed, bored, and loud sigh, exaggerating your boredom.

In the middle of your.. Sound— A vent grille shot to the other side of the room, falling into the endless hole that was on your right.

The sudden movement stops you from your groaning, your abnormal senses going through the roof.

Suddenly you can fully feel the ground beneath your feet, you can hear the distant sounds of the man from the speaker.

And suddenly you’re intrigued by what’s in the vent.

“Hey, come here”.

A wide smile spreads through your face, maybe you can find another being like you down here! Human or not, you still want to see what’s over there.

After squeezing through the tight vents, you look around the room, not seeing much.

Dang it.

You knew it would’ve been better if you had night vision!

I mean come onnn, a cat has night vision! You should too!

A light flickers on, seemingly not one from the tall ceiling. Because of the new light, your iris(Including pupils) zoom in and out.

You look up at the source of light, seeing a man, yet not a human. Maybe an experiment like you! ██████ is where you came from. Not Urbanshade or whatever it is.

He seems to cut himself off because of your looks.

You don’t look weird right?

It could be because he’s never seen a cyborg before, that’s normal to be surprised! To be surprised at your adjusting eyes and visible pipes.

After a few seconds of silence, you spoke up.

“Why’d you stop speaking?” You climbed out of the vent, (unnecessarily) stretching your limbs.

“I thought you were introducing yourself”?

He looked up at you, taken aback even more, from your very tall height. He immediately looked back down, tucking his side bangs behind his fins.

“W- Well I was, before I saw.. You”.

“What?! Did I shock you?! Take you by surprise?! Why thank you Sebastian”!

Oh, so you were paying attention.

You put your hands on your hips, with a smile on your face, turning your head in directions to look even more around the shop. Now that you can see.

“This is really cooolll!! You set this up?” You asked, turning back to him.

He looks downwards, his side bang falling back into his vision. Which made him quietly groan with a tch sound.

“Yes, I did. Anyways if you want to buy anything, don’t give me real cash. Currency in this shop is the data found within the drawers or lockers.” He explained, attempting to pin his side bang back only for it to fall again.

You let out an understanding noise, pulling out something from your bag.

Sebastian heard the rustling sound, and looked back at you. His (invisible)eyebrow raised out of interest.

“I have this hair clip, chuckle, I don't know why I have this since I don’t have any hair. But I want to give it to you, your side bangs seem to keep bothering you”!

You held out the white hair clip in your hand, waiting for him to take it.

“... What”?

“Uh. What do you mean ‘what’? I’m giving this to you! Y’know, for your continuously falling bangss”??

“That’s not what I meant, I mean why are you giving this to me? I just met you”.

“Oh um, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s a gift!! Take it”!

He doesn’t end up taking it from your hand, staying quiet.

“Alrighty! I’ll just place it on the desk.” Comically, an exclamation mark appears by your head, seeing the document on the table.

You point at it, looking at Sebastian.

“This yours”?

“Yes– It’s 1000 data though, so I’m not sure if you’ll be able to buy it”.

“Uhh, I’ll check in my bag”.

You dug into your bag, finding two shiny blocks.

“Here,” You hand him the two blocks, “My system tells me this is equal to 1000 data”.

His mouth hangs partly open, a few blinks, and he takes the data from your hands. He checks out the blocks, looking at them from different angles.

You take the documents and almost open it, oh yeah, consent. That’s a thing that everybody needs to be concerned about.

“Are you okay with me reading this in front of you”?

He looks at you, confused.

“What”?

“That’s your second what of the day. Do you give me your consent to read this in front of youuu”!!

“.. Yes that’s fine”.

It’s like you glowed from your smile, looking back at the file.

After a few minutes, you close the thin folders.

“I find it cool that you’re an experiment too”.

.. THAT’S THE FIRST THING YOU SAY??

He would’ve thought you’d talk about him killing somebody, or- or the fact that he was once a human.

Wait did you say too?

“I mean– I wasn’t a human but I am an experiment. I wasn’t made by Urbanshade though I was made by ██████. I’m glad we have something in common”.

Your mood switches in a second.

“THAT’S REALLY COOL!! YOU GOT ANYMORE INFORMATION YA WANNA TELL ME?! I WANNA HEAR”!!!

“I MEAN, I WOULD KILL THOSE SCIENTISTS TOO IF I WERE YOU. HAH! YOU’RE SO COOL!! CAN WE BE FRIENDS”?!?!

Oh goodness.

I tried to fit in the adrenaline junkie at the end, I completely forgot about it.

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fluffy-dixon · 6 months

Text

Sleeveless

No warnings, just a bit of heated tension between two people who are obviously very attracted to each other.

This was inspired by seeing Norman wearing his cut off Joy Division t-shirt.

Today was a very ordinary, chilled, and relaxed kind of today, almost feeling like a normal Sunday afternoon despite the apocalypse. Daryl, your best friend who you spent the most of your time with, all the time in fact, stands there in the garage tinkering with his motorbike, the sunlight filtering through the dusty windows, casting a warm glow on his tanned skin. His motorhead T-shirt, its sleeves artfully cut off, clings to his broad shoulders and defined biceps. As he leans over the bike, his back muscles ripple beneath the fabric, and you can’t help but trace the lines with your eyes.

That damned t-shirt does things to you within.

His hands, calloused from countless battles with walkers and working, move with a graceful confidence—fingers adjusting bolts, tightening screws. You watch the play of tendons as he grips the wrench, the way his knuckles flex. It’s as if every movement is a symphony, and you’re the sole audience member, captivated by the performance.

The things he could do with those hands, mhmm.

What.

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts but then it hits you: the sudden realisation that this isn’t just admiration for his mechanical skills. No, it’s something deeper, more primal. Your heart races, and you wonder how you never noticed before—the way his laughter reaches your soul, the warmth of his gaze when he catches you staring.

You’re undeniably attracted to Daryl, and the garage becomes a stage for a different kind of tension—one that has nothing to do with bike repairs. The air crackles with possibility, and you find yourself wondering what it would be like to trace those arm muscles with your fingertips, to feel his lips against yours.

But for now, you keep your secret, watching him work, knowing that this newfound desire will forever colour your perception of motor oil and metal. And as he looks up, meeting your gaze, you wonder if he senses it too, he smiles at you, exposing his emotions - a very rare moment which he only shares with the people he cared for most.

“Watcha starin’ at, huh?” His voice, gravelly and deep, wraps around you like a warm embrace. You find yourself speechless, utterly captivated by his every move. Daryl stands there, mere centimetres away, his presence filling the garage. Your feet dangle over the edge of the toolbox you’re perched on, and he steps in between your legs.

His palms, rough from countless hours of tinkering with engines, rest on the tops of your thighs. The heat from his touch seeps through your skin, igniting a fire within you. You’re acutely aware of the tension—the charged air that crackles between you two.

And then, without warning, the words tumble out: “You’re really hot.” You hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but desire has a way of bypassing reason. Daryl blinks, confusion etching his features. “Wha?” he stammers, caught off guard.

Quickly, you backtrack, your cheeks flushing. “It’s really hot,” you correct yourself, hoping he didn’t quite catch your slip. But the heat in the garage isn’t just from the weather; it’s the electric pull between you and him, a magnetic force that defies explanation.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #norman reedus #twd #daryl x reader #daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl drabbles

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hpalloy · 9 months

Text

Shop High-Quality Taparia Tools Online at HP Alloy Steels & Mill Store

Discover a comprehensive range of Taparia tools at HP Alloy Steels & Mill Store. From screwdrivers to pliers, find the perfect tool for your needs. Buy Taparia tools online for durability and precision. Explore our collection now and elevate your craftsmanship with reliable tools from a trusted source. Shop with confidence at HP Alloy Steels & Mill Store for top-notch Taparia tools delivered to your doorstep.

#Adjustable spanner Chandigarh #Taparia tools online #Adjustable spanner wrench #Adjustable spanner online #HP alloy steels & mill store #Hand tool kits Mohali #Best place to buy power tools #Buy power tools online at best price #Power tools shop near me

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brotherwtf · 30 days

Text

some age gap clegan bcs I'm honest to god going feral

(btw thanks to all of the people who wanted to see this, boosted my confidence a lot)

Gale first meets John when he turned 19, was introduced to the 38 year old Major when he was with his mother for dinner, all smooth smiles and friendly pats on the back when he had crowed at the sight of her.

"Your mama and I, we go way back. Would pick on me all the time during grade school, shocked to see you this far north," John had said, and Gale tries to ignore the way the timbre of his voice dislodges something deep in his stomach.

It was the first time his mother had smiled, genuinely, in a long time, and Gale couldn't help but feel that same joy at the way John smiles gently at him.

About a week later, Gale was beaten by his father with his mother watching, beaten until he had bruises and red welts over his arms and face. His mother had apologized profusely, promising Gale that something was going to get done, she was going to get help for them.

In the following days, John would come to the house every morning after Gale's mother left for work and take him to his classes at the university, or wherever Gale wanted to go.

"Your mama told me to look after you," John had said.

"I don't need looking after, I'm grown," Gale retorted, but couldn't help the way his stomach flipped every time John showed up at his door.

John took him everywhere he wanted, to museums and art exhibits and walks along the river, took him to a baseball game to explain the rules to him and force him to have some fun.

He would always appear looking dashing, if he wasn't in his uniform he was in perfectly pressed pants and a button up shirt, jacket slung from his fingers over his shoulder, and Gale actually started to look forward to their outings together.

Gale's father was often too hungover or still sleeping by the time John would come to pick Gale up, but one morning he was awake with the sun and saw Gale's bright smile when John's car rolled into their driveway. He slapped Gale, gripped his hair between his hands and called him a queer, called him all sorts of names for being excited to see a man come get him. Gale tried to push his father off of him, yelling at him to stop and trying his best not to cry.

John burst into the house, already had a key given to him by Gale's mother, and wrenched Gale's father off of him, punching him until he was bloody and unconscious. Gale begged for John to stop, grabbed his shoulders and pulled John off of his father's body, finally breaking down when John holds him gently and asks if he was okay

John takes him back to his place, a modest house for a man who lived alone and forces him to sit on the couch, allowing Gale to sob into his strong arms until he can only sniffle and whimper. Gale can't bring himself to let go of John, something big and strong and steady, and finds himself adjusting until his knees straddle John's hips, shoving his face into John's shoulder

John's hands are tense around him, not expecting the horribly intimate position Gale has put them in, arms still wrapped safely around Gale's shoulders. When Gale pulls away, he looks down at John with something akin to hunger.

"Wanna kiss you, John," Gale whispers and watches John's throat work as he swallows.

John shakes his head, taking his hands from Gale's shoulders and gently pushing him away.

"We can't Gale, you're too young," John tries to plead.

Gale would only whine, nudging his face closer to John's despite him trying to move away, still trying to put a valiant effort into keeping the space between them.

"I'm 19, I know what I want, and I want you, John," Gale whispers, moving his hands from John's shoulders to gently massage through his hair.

It's still so new to Gale, he had only just realized his deep rooted feelings for John when he had confronted Gale's father, and didn't know how he would survive without him. Even the way John's looking up at him with a wary expression is making Gale's stomach flip.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you," John asks, daringly moving his hands from their defensive position on Gale's shoulder to gently rest just above Gale's thighs.

The contact makes Gale shiver and he nods, leaning in ever closer so that their noses brush together.

"I want it, please kiss me, John," Gale whispers.

It feels like his world explodes when John tentatively closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together sweetly. Gale wants so desperately for John to go further, to open up his mouth and claim him as his, wants so desperately to be John's. He whimpers meekly against John's lips and it's a silent beg for John to go further, be rougher.

John does so perfectly, opens Gale's mouth with his tongue and gently allows himself to explore the space, taking in all of Gale's sighed whimpers or groans in the back of his throat.

Gale never had much experience with kissing, had gently kissed his high school girlfriends lips and had gotten so flushed afterwards he could barely look at her. If he could see what Gale was doing now, he would faint. John has his hands on Gale's waist, so large that his fingertips almost touch on Gale's lower back, holding Gale in place as he devours his lips.

John pulls away from Gale's lips and sighs, pressing their foreheads together and rubbing a gentle thumb on Gale's waist.

"I'm gonna protect you, Gale, no one's gonna hurt you while I'm still swinging," John whispers, lips ticking up in the slightest.

Gale laughs a little wetly, pressing their faces closer together so he can feel the stubble of John's mustache on his lip.

Eventually, Gale convinced his mother that he was going to stay with John, keeping the fact that he and John were far more than friends to himself until he was out of his family's grasp. He felt terrible for leaving her behind with his father, but she gushed with joy when she knew her son was going to be safe. She thanked John profusely for taking care of Gale, kissing him on the cheek and sobbing into a tight hug from Gale.

It takes some adjusting for Gale to get used to living with John, but he had spent so long under his care that it felt like second nature, almost.

some smut for these guys coming down the pipeline soon if y'all want to see it

#mota #clegan #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #age gap au

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quack-quack-snacks · 2 months

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Time Will Tell - Chapter 2

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: Talk about shitty friends and being cheated on in a past relationship, an almost suicide attempt, talk about shitty graveyard shift job. Word Count: 3,266

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You loved and missed living with your dad, and you knew he loved having you around. The ones you missed the most, however, were your two younger siblings.

Your one free hand opened up the front door to your apartment and you walked in. You set your things down before wandering toward the childlike voices you heard coming from the living room. It took a moment for them to notice, but once they did the reaction was all you could hope for.

“Unnie!”

“Noona!”

Su-yeong and Yeong-su yelled simultaneously as they both jumped up to run and hug you.

“Dongsaeng! I’ve missed you guys!” You exclaimed back at them as you picked both of them up in your arms and swung them around. It really hadn’t been that long since you saw them in person, perhaps maybe a little over a month, but it felt like forever.

“We missed you too, Unnie!” Su-yeong told you with a smile that you missed seeing on your little sister’s face in person. Over the phone calls you would regularly make to them, they would be happy but it was obvious they missed you so and were sad about it.

“Let’s go say hi to appa, yeah?” You encouraged, adjusting your grip on them and traveling further into the apartment so you could find your father.

“He’s fixing the kitchen sink,” Yeong-su told you and pointed towards the kitchen. You nodded and started walking towards the room where you found your father tightening a bolt around the visibly new, silver sink faucet and testing the handles to see if they let the water through. Spoiler alert, they did.

“Appa,” you called and he turned around to look at you, taking out the headphones playing the too-loud music that you’ve continuously scolded him about. A smile lit up his face and he set down the wrench he was holding before moving toward you and pulling you - and as a result, Yeong-su and Su-yeong - into a big, reunifying hug. You laughed and tried your best to hug him back before he pulled away.

“What happened to me picking you up at the university tomorrow?” He asked, playfully annoyed but mainly happily surprised.

“I wanted to surprise you all,” you said simply as you smiled up at him.

“Well you succeeded, and you’re just in time for dinner. We’re having ramen since today is an easy meal day.”

You laughed at the irony of what just happened in the elevator but made your way over to the kitchen table regardless. Su-yeong and Yeong-su sat on the sides of the table beside you while your father sat across from you. The table was a square and was perfect for your family dynamic.

You spent the night eating ramen and laughing with your family at everything you had missed during your time at the university; you told them everything you had done during your time away as well and it was a relief to be able to talk to the most important people in your life like this again.

You walked up the stairs towards the rooftop, needing some space from the world as everything seemed to be going wrong in your life.

Since moving in with your family, it seems the universe gave you one good thing only to take away 10. You got fired from your job for something you completely didn’t do, your best friend of 10 years ended up being the one your boyfriend of the time slept with during your relationship in high school as well as the one who spread rumors about you, your father was asking you to babysit Su-yeong and Yeong-su more and more often - which you usually wouldn’t mind but you were just so stressed - school was starting up again relatively soon, and your laptop broke last minute as you were applying for a new job.

Suffice to say, you had a rough week. You just needed some space from the world, some time to recollect your thoughts and be away from any responsibilities or fake friends or anything of the like.

You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes but you refused to let them fall, at least until you got to the roof. If you could have it your way, they wouldn’t fall at all, but that was unlikely.

You got to the final step of the stairs and walked through the door, your eyes immediately landing on the messy-haired ramen boy from before and widening when they saw him standing on the edge with one foot hovering in front of him.

“‘You will face many defeats in life, but never let yourself be defeated.’” You quoted softly and leaned against the stair's door frame. He planted his hovering foot back on the ground and turned his head to look at you. “An American poet named Maya Angelou said that once. It’s kind of cliche but the hardest things in life prepare us for what’s next. There is always darkness before it is followed by the light; always a storm before a rainbow,” you told him before walking forward, giving him plenty of space as you sat down on the edge and faced the setting sun. It was a beautiful sight, how the golden light shone between the buildings and reflected off the windows. The golden hour. “I don’t know or understand what you’ve been through and why you believe this is the only option but if I can make you think the rest of today is worth living then I’d be satisfied,” you finished, looking up at him from where he was still standing.

You engaged in an intense lock of eyes until he let out an almost imperceivable sigh and lowered himself to be sitting on the edge beside you. You smiled at him, undeterred when he did not return the gesture. “If you need to talk to anyone, I’ve been told I’m a great listener,” you assured him. He just looked away from you and down at his lap at your words. “Okay, well maybe you’d just like to listen? I have some shit I came up here to deal with too.”

He looked over at you, staring at your comforting smile before giving a slight nod and looking back at his hands.

You grinned, partly at his obvious shyness but also because of the opportunity to vent and gossip about the things going on in your life, especially since the person agreed to you venting about them. “Well, in high school I was dating this guy. We had been going out since sophomore year until I found out he cheated on me. It’s only recently that I found out he cheated on me with my best friend of 10 years. Then, he had the audacity to-” You vented to the boy for what felt like hours, the two of you moving off the edge and to the floor to lean against the railing at some point. It was when the sun had officially gone down that you wrapped everything up, looking at the quiet boy beside you, who had stopped looking at his lap at some point and started looking at you intently with each word you said.

“Come on, let’s start walking down,” you told him with a wave of your hand and a small smile on your face. He got up to follow you quickly, the two of you walking down the stairs in a surprisingly comfortable silence. It was when you reached level 14, which you remembered was his floor, that you stopped at the door and looked at him. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Try not to overwork yourself, okay?”

You turned to leave after letting your words sink in for a moment. You only stopped when you felt a hand gently gripping your wrist to pull you back. Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Hyun-su was back to avoiding your gaze before he spoke ever so softly. “Thank you. This… was nice.”

Your smile grew even bigger at his words and you nodded. Turning around and starting to descend the steps, you were once again stopped, this time by his voice.

“What’s your name?”

You looked back up at him with a smile, telling him your full name which he repeated, testing the words on his tongue.

“I am Cha Hyun-su.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Cha Hyun-su,” you told him sincerely.

“Yeah, you too.”

Your first night on your new graveyard shift and you were asked to stay late. It frustrated you beyond belief but you knew you needed this job. So you accepted, staying late a total of four extra hours to help with setting up the security cameras around the convenience store where you worked. It was a very hard four hours where you were constantly holding heavy things above your head, or inhaling - and sneezing - the little bits of styrofoam that came off from the ceiling tiles.

So, right then, four hours after your shift was supposed to have ended - 12 p.m. - you walked into your apartment complex building. Seeing the elevator doors start to close you started to run. “Please hold the doors! Please, please!” Only for the doors to close fully just as you got to them. “Fucking shit,” you whined, placing your head against the door when it suddenly opened, scaring you and causing you to jump back. Standing there like your knight in shining black hoodie and sweatpants was Hyun-su. It was like a breath of fresh air to see him after the day you had and you happily stepped into the elevator with him. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s okay, sorry I didn’t open it sooner,” he apologized while scratching the back of his neck. Leaning down to pick up the ramen box he’d placed down in favor of hitting the elevator button to open the door, you noticed the sleeve of his hoodie had raised slightly, revealing deep scars running along his forearm. Your eyes widened momentarily but you made no other visual reaction that would show you saw them. The last thing you would want to do is make him feel uncomfortable around you.

Instead, while you reached over to press the 12 button on the elevator number pad, you asked him, “What flavor did you get this time?”

He looked over, then down at the box, then back over to you with a sheepish smile. “Spicy.”

You laughed. “That’s fair,” then, hesitantly, you continued. “You shouldn’t just have ramen though, if that’s all you eat. I know it’s not my place and you can do whatever you want but you really should have some of the other food groups in there as well.”

He stayed looking at the box for a minute just until the elevator beeped, saying it was hitting the 12th floor.

“Just think about it, okay? And if you need someone to help cook for you, just know I make a mean chicken pot pie,” you winked and walked off.

“I will,” he said quietly, barely audible as you walked away but it left you with a smile as you walked towards your apartment.

It had officially been a month or so since you moved back into the apartment and you couldn’t be happier about your decision. Although it hurt, you were glad to cut your ex-best friend out of your life, especially since you started to see how toxic the friendship was in the first place. With your new job at the convenience store, despite it being a graveyard shift, you were able to still work and enjoy your time with your family. You hadn’t done overwork since that first day which you were thankful for.

This day started like every other; you woke up around 3 or 4 p.m. to the sound of a pesky bird that loved to tap on your window each day. It always tapped around the same time, working as a very effective, but also very annoying, alarm clock. You’d been staying up in the mornings after your shifts to say good morning and goodbye to your family as your father took your siblings to daycare before going to work for the day. He was thankful to find out their school had a free daycare program and he stopped relying on you to babysit them all the time, especially since he knew your time was tight with the new job and everything. It was a good thing they loved it there and had good friends who were there to make the experience more enjoyable. You remember hearing them cry the first time your dad had dropped them off. They wailed nonstop, not wanting him to leave them there. You were glad it was no longer like that.

You went into the kitchen after shooing the bird away and changing into a burgundy short-sleeved shirt with a half-zipped-up grey jacket on top and grey sweatpants to match. You looked around for some eggs and bread so you could make yourself some ‘breakfast’ at 4 p.m. Luckily, there was just enough of both for you to make some French toast.

Although you were home alone when you woke up, the sound of the door to the apartment opened and revealed your father and two younger siblings. You smiled at all of them as you stood from your chair just in time to catch Yeong-su as he launched himself into your arms. “Noona!” He yelled excitedly as he wrapped his tiny arms around your neck. Su-yeong was not far behind as she wrapped her arms around your waist and squeezed tightly.

“Anyeong, dongsaeng,” you replied affectionately. “How was daycare? Did you guys finish those drawings?” You asked as you once again sat down on your chair at the table. Su-yeong pulled a chair over to be closer to yours as Yeong-su started talking about the professional sketches they were given by their instructor and were told to fill in with color. She interjected every now and then but was content with just listening and swinging her feet that couldn’t quite reach the floor yet.

You quietly ate the rest of your meal while you listened, commenting occasionally to let Yeong-su know you were listening. Your dad traveled around the kitchen, looking through the fridge to try and find something to cook dinner with.

Your dad and you had a much different relationship compared to the one he had with your younger siblings. Since you were already 18 and your mother passed during childbirth when she was having Yeong-su, you became the main woman/mother figure/older sister figure of the household. Your dad tried his hardest but always needed to rely on you for certain things when it pertained to caring for your siblings. It never bothered you that you needed to take care of them because you loved them with your whole heart. They were your world, and you simply orbited around them like a moon.

Despite the significant age gap between you and your siblings - you only being twelve when you took on the responsibility of caring for them as their older sister, but also providing yourself as a motherly figure - and the fact of you being adopted into the family when you were a baby, you couldn’t have imagined growing up any other way. You loved your mother, and the loss of her life was heartbreaking for everyone in your family, but you chose to see the good that came with it, no matter how small that good presented itself as. It was important to you that they could always come to you for anything they needed, anything children would usually ask their mothers or older sisters.

After a while, you finished your plate of food and Yeong-su finished his story about the beautifully designed drawing of a boat and pirates that he colored. He even showed it to you and you hung it on the fridge. You asked Su-yeong to tell you about her day as you stood to wash up your dishes and she told you all about how she finally stood up for herself against the boy who kept picking on her. It turned out he really just had a crush on her and that was the only way he knew how to express it.

“The term ‘boys are mean to you because they like you’ is completely wrong. Never let any boy you date in the future be mean to you as a way to show his affection. Do you understand me?” You asked her, turning around from the drying rack where you just put your washed dishes to look at her and make sure she was taking your words to heart. She nodded just as your dad hummed in agreement and you smiled, going over to pat her on the head and hug her tightly. “Stop growing up! You’re getting too big, you need to shrink!” You complained playfully. She giggled and swatted at your hands when you lightly pressed down on her head as if stopping the growth.

“I can’t help it!” She replied with a laugh and you pulled away.

“I know, and I’m so proud of you for who you are becoming. You are such a strong girl and I know you will do great things.”

She smiled before burying her head in your stomach and hugging you tightly once again. You hugged her back tightly until she pulled away to go play with Yeong-su in the living room. It was then that you addressed your father who had been silently watching you interact with your two siblings with a smile on his face the entire time.

“Hi, appa,” you told him with a smile as you gave him a hug. He returned it with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, kid.”

“Do you want me to go grocery shopping on my way home from work tomorrow morning or are you going to? If it’s easier for me to do it then I can do it in a heartbeat,” you reassured him.

“No, it’s alright, I’ll go tonight or tomorrow but it’ll be okay.”

“What about tonight? Do you have a plan for dinner?” You asked him as you pulled away from the hug and looked to him for his answer.

“I saw some cans of soup in the pantry and we also have some frozen pasta in the freezer so we’re not completely out of food,” he reassured you.

“Okay, that’s good. That way Su-yeong and Yeong-su at least have a choice of what they want,” you breathed out a slight sigh of relief. “Don’t worry about doing anything for dinner, I’ll take care of it if you want to just go watch some TV. I know you probably had a hard day at work.”

He sighed in relief and gave you a tired smile. “Thank you, kid. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“No problem, Pops,” you playfully saluted at him and he laughed, gently pushing your head away by your forehead and knocking you off your balance. You collected it in time to not fall over and laughed too. “I’ll be leaving around 8 tonight and coming home around 7 - 8 tomorrow morning as usual. Don’t wait up, okay? You know it’s pointless and I’ve given you my work schedule.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Okay, but be safe when you’re on your way there. I worry about you sometimes with it being so late.”

“I know you do but I’m always careful. Don’t worry.”

#Time Will Tell 💌 quack-quack-snacks #sweet home #cha hyun su #cha hyunsu #cha hyun su x reader #cha hyunsu x reader #cha hyunsoo x reader #cha hyun soo x reader #cha hyunsoo #cha hyun soo #sweet home imagine #sweet home fluff

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how-very-superbat · 1 year

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Lengthy Superbat Fics!

I'm not sure how to really define 'lengthy' so I'm going for 20k+ (and Superman x Batman of course)

I just looked at how many I have and oh my god this is going to be very long. I will put a *** next to my favourites

From This Day Forward by Mithen (29k) When Kal-El of the House of El must marry a wealthy Terran for diplomatic reasons, Krypton will never be the same.

Action and Re-Action by Mithen (24k) In the first issue of Justice League after the reboot, Batman told Green Lantern he had never met Superman before. This story takes that statement at face value--but what if Bruce Wayne had met him before?

Stranger in a Strange Land by Mithen (27k) (Literally how does Mithen have time for all this) Kal-El of Krypton arrives on Earth as an adult. To the Justice League's surprise, Batman volunteers to introduce him to human ways. There's an immediate bond between the two men, but cultural differences and miscommunication complicate their relationship.

"Did you all have to get sick at the same time?" by Writer_loves_tropes (25k) Alfred is away on a well deserved vacation and Bruce is left to take care of the three Bat boys by himself. He's pretty sure he can easily take care of an eight year old, an eleven year old, and a twelve year old without having to call Alfred for backup. He's Batman. Batman can handle anything, right?

An Honest Conversation by frozenpotions (60k)*** “So Bruce’s longtime best friend had suddenly decided to start eye-fucking him at random. So what? Bruce was used to being the object of this kind of attention. It didn’t bother him. It was—should have been fine. The issue was that it was Clark, and Bruce had enough trouble remaining rational about him at the best of times.” or Bruce and Clark go from friends to lovers the long, long, long way round. Featuring a number of revelations, a well-meaning but nosy son (Dick) and, most prominently, two adult men being completely and utterly useless.

as to which may be the true by susiecarter (53k) It isn't difficult to go on in the wake of Superman's death. His resurrection, though, poses a problem—especially when it turns out there's no such thing as the right moment to explain that Martha Kent's obnoxious billionaire friend? Is also the man who tried really hard to shove a kryptonite spear through Clark's face.

all each riddles, when unknown by susiecarter (52k) Clark, struggling to deal with the events of Black Zero Day, is assigned a straightforward human-interest piece—on Wayne Enterprises. Then Batman catches Superman's attention, Clark Kent starts investigating Batman, Bruce Wayne spends a lot of time arguing with hitting on Clark Kent, and Bruce's best efforts to find a way to hurt Superman start to bear fruit. And then things get complicated.

and if the sun comes by susiecarter (30k) Steppenwolf isn't interested in accepting defeat and walking away. Superman's proven that he's the key to conquering Earth, and Steppenwolf returns with a plan for how to deal with him. A plan that Bruce is able to throw a wrench into—but not without certain unintended consequences.

Only Human by saltedpin (23k) Clark temporarily loses his powers, and while it's initially jarring, he gradually adjusts and tries to go about on a somewhat normal routine after telling his inner circle (which can also include the League since they're building themselves up). Problem is that he is somehow an even bigger danger magnet than Lois in this state.

Loading and Aspect Ratio byJUBE154 (45k) It had started out as a simple design, black everything with black outlines and black hood. It got a little more intense as the world went on, got wind of his ghost on the streets, and became scared of The Bat. So Bruce got a little more creative with it, Alfred and him had a good laugh over the name, the scare. So now the suit had a visible bat-theme, an insignia to drape in the shadows and to paint across the streets of Gotham: “The Batman can fly, you know, I’ve seen his wings.” (A world where nobody has wings, but people think they do, and that changes everything.)

Whoever Falls First by liodain (34k) "There's more kryptonite out there. When the Superman returns, there's going to be an all-star battle royale in the criminal underworld. Every megalomaniacal freak will want a piece of it so they can get a piece of you. And some of them will manage. They'll weaponize it and won't hesitate to use it against you, and when that happens I will not have you flailing around like an idiot." aka: Bruce teaches Clark how to fight.

Repeat Your Favourite Mistakes And Love Them All Again by watchingthestars13 (160k)*** "Oh dear," came Alfred's surprised voice from the stairs, and all of them turned to look at him. His face was a little pale as he stared at all the boys, Jason's huge t-shirt, Tim's dress, Damian wrapped in a spare cape that was in the batmobile. At least Dick was able to fit into Tim's Red Robin pants, and Jason in Damian's Robin pants. Had Bruce been a lesser man, he would've said 'dear god, help'. All it took now was for their eyes to meet before Alfred composed himself.

Opposites Eventually Attract by Pandamomochan (34k) When an accident forces Clark and Bruce to be no more than ten feet apart from each other at all times, both heroes are forced to evaluate what their relationship really means to each other.

The Long Hangover by CoffioCake (55k)*** Clark knows he should take a break: His powers are on the fritz, he feels like shit, and Batman’s treating him like a liability. But Gotham's villains seem to have it in for Metropolis' Big Blue Boy Scout and Clark won't just wait around for answers. Batman might be the world’s greatest detective, but Clark Kent is one of the Daily Planet’s most tenacious reporters. This is definitely a job for Superman.

Conflated by PamiGami (31k) “Are you sure you’re feeling quite all right, sir? I was but fairly sure the head hadn't been impacted.” “No… no, please. Listen. I’m in his body, but I’m not him. I can prove it.” Ill at ease, Clark rubbed at the back of his head, not stopping to think about the weird sensation of feeling not his own curls, but somebody else’s hair. The man continued to stare at him with piercing and scolding eyes. “I believe you.” He nodded. “Mister Wayne doesn’t say please this early in the morning.”

the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish (96k)*** Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are all tired of watching Bruce struggle with the stress of trying to handle the newly formed Justice League. He needs an outlet, he needs to relax, he needs to get out of the house, he needs... he needs to start dating. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

Get Over It by rotasha (32k) Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...

#superbat #superman #batman #superman x batman #brucie wayne #bruce wayne #clark kent #gay #fic recs #superbat fic #ao3 #hwvry

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bvidzsoo · 7 months

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Love you, forever

❀Boyfriend!Mingi❀

TW: nothing, except angst and then fluff *cries*

Word count: 2,4k

A/N: Am I okay? Not really. Did Mingi's IG post send me into a spiral of depression? Kinda yeah. Did writing this help? Abso-fucking-lutely not, I'm even more in shambles, I don't even know what life is anymore guys, I'm hurting, bye. I'm fine, don't y'all worry, at least I'll be fine tomorrow lol Mingi's IG post really destroyed me, I'm a libra, I'm dramatic okay? Your feedback is appreciated! This little piece is for all of my fellow Mingtis' who are hanging on by a thread, love y'all! And please listen to Tunnel to get the feels even more going, trust me! *cries again*

I couldn’t help but sigh for the nth time as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, chest tightening the longer I stared at my notebooks. It felt like nothing was going my way anymore, like everything was falling apart. I couldn’t define the tipping point of it all, but everything was starting to become too much. The stress, every new day brought more challenges without an obvious solution. The assignments felt like they were only adding up more and more, overtaking every thought of mine and only inducing more stress. Things started to become overbearing, I started feeling like a failure. There was a constant pressure on my chest, threatening, about to burst just at a simple innocent glance thrown my way by a stranger. I ignored it as best as I could, the thoughts and emotions, but it was getting harder day by day. It didn’t help that after a misunderstanding, my boyfriend wasn’t talking to me…everything just felt too much. Like I was overstimulated without a concrete reason, and not even my friends could help anymore. It felt lonely, it felt cold, and it felt downright depressing. It was fine as long as I wasn’t at home, as long as I wasn’t left on my own with my loud thoughts making me feel even more miserable.

It's been three days since we’ve spoken, Mingi and I, and it was maddening. I knew this didn’t mean the end of our relationship, but I never took it well when he was upset because of me. Especially when he was the one to pull away, to give me the cold shoulder. Especially not right now, when all I wished for was to curl up by his side and inhale his familiar cologne, closing my eyes and relaxing into my boyfriend’s arms. I needed him here, and I knew he needed his space when upset, but I felt like being selfish and just texting him. If the tears in my eyes weren’t proof enough that I was seriously on the verge of breaking, then I don’t know what else was. I sniffed loudly and pushed my notebooks aside, blood boiling just at the simple sight of them. It’s those damned notes which were making me feel like this, and the impeding feeling of failure, of failing another important class and never finishing this wrenched course and university altogether. It was frightening, and I didn’t want to be alone anymore. My friends were always a text away, but my body was craving the warmth of my boyfriend, my soul was yearning for his. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, and I didn’t want to drown and wallow in this horrible feeling anymore. I needed the love of my life next to me.

Quickly wiping my tears clean from my eyes, I adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose and unlocked my phone, noticing that I had gotten a notification from Instagram. At the beginning of our relationship, which was quite a few years ago, Mingi and I had set each other’s accounts to send notifications when one of us posted, being madly in love and eager to see what the other was up to. Despite the passing of time, and of our emotions only deepening, we never turned the setting off, and I was surprised to find a notification from his personal page. With another sniff, I clicked on the app and was presented with ten images of my boyfriend, out and about, enjoying his day. His black hair was fluffy and not necessarily styled, but the messy look always fit him extraordinarily. His bare face looked healthy, and it had a nice shine to it under the lightning of the place he was at, and I couldn’t help but sniff again as I scrolled through the pictures, trying to ignore the fact that the blue and greyish sweater he wore was a gift from me for his birthday two years ago. And perhaps the tears wouldn’t have sprung free from my eyes if it weren’t for that video in which he was dancing to the music softly playing in the background, locking and popping in tiny as he grinned and chuckled. Mingi was a dance major with a minor in music, and he was living his best possible life at the moment. He was happy and content with where he was at, and it always brought so much joy to my soul, but seeing him enjoying himself while I was wallowing in self-pity certainly set off an uncontrollable amount of tears and ugly gasps for air. It made me happy that he was doing okay, but seeing him made me miss him terribly, and I couldn’t help but close my phone and lay down on my bed, curling up into a ball as I cried into my pillow.

This crying session was really due time, the emotions bundled up for way too long now, but it still felt horrible that I had to try and push the feeling of loneliness away and comfort myself, while foolishly trying to smell Mingi’s cologne since I was wearing his oversized blouse. The only problem was that I had stolen it from him a long time ago and it didn’t carry his cologne anymore, it had my scent, and that just made me gasp for air as my heart clenched more, making me miss him even more. And perhaps if it weren’t for the sobs increasing in volume and the self-wallowing I was so focused on, I would’ve noticed or heard the jiggle of keys and the opening of the front door. But I was too busy ripping my glasses off my head and throwing them behind me, rubbing the heels of my palms roughly against my eyes and trying to calm my irregular breathing as my throat finally seemed to ease up, my chest somewhat lighter than before. But I knew the crying session wasn’t over, it was just a matter of time until another strong wave of sadness and yearning would hit me, sending me into another fit of ugly sobs. I just couldn’t help it, it felt like the world around me was falling apart and I couldn’t do anything about it, just let it ruin me in the process.

But as I pushed myself back up into a sitting position and rubbed the snot off my face with the sleeve of my blouse, I heard footsteps outside of my door, startling me. Very few people had keys to my apartment. Like my parents, bestest friend and…well, Mingi. We didn’t live together yet, we were planning on moving in together soon, but both of us had keys to each other’s apartments. And I knew it couldn’t have been my parents as they live five hours away and never visit on weekdays, neither could it be my best friend as she was away on a two-week business trip with her work colleagues. And that could only mean…that it was Mingi. And almost as if sensing my confused state, the door to my room opened and Mingi stood in the doorway, dressed and looking the same as in the pictures.

“Hey, I—baby?” His raspy voice was quiet and his eyebrows furrowed when his eyes fell on me. I sniffed loudly, frozen for a second, until another wave of yearning and loneliness hit hard, making me cry again as I stared at my boyfriend helplessly, “Oh my God, what’s wrong?”

He rushed inside, almost tripping over his feet, but made it to the bed safely and before he could really as much as reach out for me, I sprung forward and jumped on his lap, wrapping my limbs around him like a koala. Mingi grunted in surprise due to the sudden attack, but his arms were instantly wrapped around my middle as I held onto him tightly, hiding my face in his warm neck as I tried to control my breathing and stop the tears. He was here now; I wasn’t alone anymore. I had him and I would always have him, no matter what. His body was warm and soft against mine, so familiar as it engulfed mine into his, Mingi’s nose nuzzling against the top of my head as I slipped my fingers through his soft hair, sighing contently at the feeling of being held. In his arms, it was always as if the world disappeared, like it was just the two of us, like nothing and nobody could hurt us. He’s been the one and only man to ever make me feel like that, and it made me think quite often how lucky I was to have found such person. And Mingi’s sweet, yet musky scent finally made my sobs settle into loud sniffs, arms tightening around his neck involuntarily as if I was afraid he’d leave.

“Baby?” Mingi’s voice was small, almost afraid, as I felt a kiss pressed against the top of my head as he shifted, bringing us higher up on the bed as he held me close against himself.

“I missed you,” I croaked out, lips trembling slightly, “so much, Mingi.”

“I’m sorry.” Mingi whispered, letting out a heavy sigh, “I shouldn’t have ignored you for three days, that was shitty of me. Why are you crying? What happened?”

I sighed and shrugged lightly, “I don’t know, I just—”

I chewed on my bottom lip, letting the silence stretch on as Mingi carefully cupped my cheeks and raised my head up, our faces close to each other as we stared in each other’s eyes. Mingi’s sharp eyes were soft and filled with so much worry, that it made me pout as I tried to put my jumbled thoughts into words, “I don’t know. Things got too much; I suppose. The classes and assignments, the fear that I won’t finish my dissertation in time, and you then getting upset…I’ve been feeling under the weather for quite a while now, actually. I guess I just broke today.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingi’s expression was sour and it made me feel guilty as I looked away from his eyes, following the sharp bridge of his nose, well defined and tall. I shrugged, getting comfortable in his lap as I laced my fingers together around his neck, Mingi’s warm and big hands settling on my hips.

“You worry a lot about me, Mingi, I didn’t want to burden you again with something so insignificant—”

“Your wellbeing is very significant to me, Y/N, and you know that.” His voice had an edge to it as his grip slightly tightened against me, his own lips forming a pout. I stared at him for a few seconds before sniffing again, eyes taking in his tan face, his dark and warm eyes, the mole under his eye and on his jaw, and his plush lips. I had missed him dearly.

“I know.” I mumbled and looked back into his eyes when Mingi pulled our bodies flushed together, leaning ahead to nudge his nose against mine, his breath tickling my face. I couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on my lips, and I averted my eyes shyly as Mingi chuckled.

“I’m not upset anymore.” He said, licking his lips before bopping his nose against mine again, “And you’re too stressed to study more today.”

My lips pulled into a tight line as I hummed, shoulders sagging a little, but Mingi suddenly grinned incredibly wide, his uneven and protruding front teeth showing, a little ‘imperfection’ I adored way too much about him. His eyes suddenly held an exited glint in them and I couldn’t help but feel intrigued, raising my eyebrows in question at him.

“I brought you your favorite cake, as an apology.” He bit his lower lip as his cheeks lightly flushed, “But the weather is really nice today and I think some fresh air will do you good.”

“What are you suggesting?” I asked as I leaned forward, resting my chin on his left shoulder as I hugged him tightly.

“We drive out to our favorite spot by the waterfall and have a little picnic, we can pick up some food on the way, and then drive around aimlessly after the sun sets.” There was a short pause and a low hum coming from deep within Mingi’s chest, “How does that sound?”

New tears gathered in my eyes, but not for the previous reasons I was crying about not even twenty minutes ago. My chest was filled to the brim and my heart was beating fast and loudly in my ears, filling me with warmth and so much love that I felt like I would burst. Mingi always knew what I needed, he was always there for me, he always provided whatever he could best. I chuckled quietly and sniffed loudly again, nodding my head wordlessly before I pulled back and looked him in the eyes, a smile stretching onto my lips.

“I love you.”

Mingi’s giggle was deep and low, rolling his eyes playfully as if he tried to brush off those words, but unable to do so, “And I love you.”

I closed my eyes and leaned forward, closing the small gap between our lips as I pressed a soft, but lingering kiss against Mingi’s soft and warm lips. He tasted like the watermelon chapstick I have given him while we were on vacation, his lips chapped from the salty ocean air. And everything suddenly felt in place, I found serenity within myself as Mingi kissed back eagerly but softly, his lips capturing mine between his as his large palm melted into my lower back. Being in his arms and feeling him against myself brought a sense of security and contentment, of acceptance, and want that only Mingi could provide. His teeth lightly grazed against my lower lip as he nipped at it before just slightly pulling back, pressing his forehead against mine as he nuzzled his nose against the skin of my cheek, making me flush at the endearing gesture.

“I assume that’s a yes, then.” I chuckled and pressed a swift kiss against Mingi’s lips again.

“Yes, love of my life, let’s go.” I knew the nickname always flustered Mingi, making him call me cheesy. But this time he said nothing as he giggled quietly, scrunching his nose and squeezing his eyes shut in a cute manner, making my cheeks hurt from how widely I was smiling at him.

God, I have missed him, the love of my life. Song Mingi.

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marlynnofmany · 7 months

Text

The Good Perch

“You would think,” Captain Sunlight said drily, “That a spaceport organized enough to have a whole section for courier ships would have a more visible labeling system.”

“Yeah, really,” I agreed with a frown at the small sign marking our ship’s berth. The thing was barely ankle-height and a thin font. Not even a bright color; it hardly stood out from the pavement in its gray-and-black subtlety. With all the spacefarers parading past in a rainbow of body types and clothing styles, not to mention the equally wild spaceships everywhere, those signs were easy to miss. I asked the captain, “Have you been here before? Is this normal, or did the wrong person take charge of designing things?”

“It’s been a while,” said Captain Sunlight, crossing her scaly arms. “I don’t recall this being a problem before. But I suspect our wayward client is still wandering the walkways looking for us.”

“Normally I’d say our ship would stand out, but the visibility’s not great for that either.” Lemon-shaped spaceships with foldable solar sails were pretty uncommon. The one parked behind us would have been easy to spot from a distance if not for the larger ships looming close on either side. These berths were too close together.

Captain Sunlight pulled her phone out of a belt pouch. “Still says they’re on the way.”

“Maybe we need to scoot forward a bit?” I suggested. “Make the ship easier to see?” I stepped up to the walkway for a better look at the view from there.

This turned out to give someone else a better view of me.

“Hey, person who climbs things!” called a cheerful voice. “Come help me brace this.”

After a confused half-second, I located the speaker on top of the gray-brown ship next to ours. I realized with a start that this wasn’t the first time our ships had been parked side-by-side. “Hey, Acorn!” I called back. “Are you waiting for clients too?”

“We were,” the fellow courier called back, waving something that looked like a wrench. She herself still looked like a baboon crossed with a crocodile. “Now it’s time for errands and maintenance, and this needs fixing before we get back into space. Care to give me a hand? Everybody else is either busy or too much of a coward to get up this high.”

“Sure thing!” I said with a glance at Captain Sunlight, who was waving me on. “What’s the best way up?”

Acorn directed me to a row of handholds on the other side of the ship, which made for a nice easy climb. A pity her crewmates didn’t appreciate heights; the spaceport was a beautiful, chaotic sprawl of color from here. And the top of the ship was flat enough to feel plenty safe.

“Welcome to the good perch,” Acorn said, offering me a wrench. “It’s a very exclusive club. Can you hold this part in place so I can adjust that?”

“Absolutely,” I told her. “This end, right? Wait, got it.” I actually had no idea what this open panel was for, but I like to think I hid it well. The job was a simple one with two of us. I could see how it would have been awkward with just one, though. I wondered if she’d resorted to using her feet to hold things in place. I sure would have.

“Got it!” she said. “Now to close it all up. I knew that would be quick.”

I removed the wrench. “What’s the saying? More hands means less work?”

“Makes sense to me. Though by that logic, your friend there could get everything done by himself.”

I looked down to see that Mur had joined Captain Sunlight, in all his many-tentacled squidlike glory. “He probably could, actually. Though I don’t know how he is with heights.”

“Well, no need to share the good perch,” Acorn announced, snapping the panel shut. She spread her arms. “Look at this panorama!”

“It is a nice one! I was just thinking that. What kind of ship is that blobby green one over there? I haven’t seen it before.”

Acorn stood up for a better look. “I think it’s a Waterwill design?”

“That makes sense.” I got to my feet too, glad the ship we stood on wasn’t one of the shiny racer models. Those were much too slippery to make good sightseeing towers.

Not that Acorn seemed bothered either way. She probably would have found grippy shoes somewhere and run up the side just to prove she could. Her appreciation for climbing had been a nice change the first time I ran into her, and was no different now, given how much time I spent among alien crewmates who didn’t have tree-swinging monkeys in their family trees.

“That ship looks like it would make an excellent climbing structure,” she said, pointing at a pink model with grooves along the sides. “Pity it belongs to a security force who are likely to be uptight about such things.”

I laughed. “Isn’t that always the way of it? There’s a police station in my hometown with a roof that slopes down to meet a very climbable wall, and you have no idea how tempting it looked. Well. Maybe you know.”

She definitely understood, and we spent an enjoyable few minutes talking about which buildings and spaceships looked like the most fun to climb.

Then I spotted someone wandering from one berth marker to the next, looking both lost and a little nearsighted, and I had a suspicion that I’d found our missing client. This was a fellow human wearing the kind of drapey clothes that spoke of dignity and no little wealth. Her expression was exactly the kind I’d wear if I had to deal with those hard-to-read signs long enough to be late.

“Hey Captain!” I called down to Sunlight. “Is that her?” I pointed.

Captain Sunlight hurried forward with her phone out, matching the look of the person with an image there.

Yup. Called it.

Acorn chuckled while the pair of them exchanged greetings and complaints about the station layout. “Nice one. The wisdom of the heights strikes again. Do they need you down there now?”

“Probably,” I said. “Actually not yet, this package is a small one. Mur’s got it.” As I spoke, Mur pushed a hovercart forward with a box on it liberally covered in “fragile” stickers. It had a carrying handle on the top, which it had come with, and rubber bumpers on every corner, which Paint had added just to be safe. All precautions had been taken.

“Oh good,” Acorn said. “Then enjoy the view with me a little longer.” She bent to pull something from the toolbag’s side pocket. “Top-of-the-tree snack?”

“Are those the ones you’re named for?” I asked, remembering a conversation the last time I’d seen her. Translations being what they were, her name meant a similar nut from her homeworld. It had been an amusing conversation, since we were both named after things found in trees. She didn’t know what a robin was, but once I explained it, she claimed to have met a number of people back home with similar names.

“Yes, the salted version,” Acorn said, opening the bag. “I recall these were on the safe list for your species.”

“Safe and tasty,” I agreed. “Thank you.” I accepted a handful of alien acorns and marveled quietly at how universal salt was on snacks. Well, for some species. I don’t think Waterwills or Strongarms were that into overly salty food in general. Probably for slug-like reasons. Eggskin the medic would know. I should ask him later.

Acorn peered over the other side of the ship. “Ohh, Riverbrook’s wearing his goofy helmet. I owe him some acoustics since he played that loud music while I was working.” She crouched, peering down at a crewmate who had just emerged. With care, she selected a nut from the bag. “Think you can thwack him from here?” The grin she threw over her shoulder was full of teeth.

I joined her at the edge. “I like my odds.”

The crewmate was one of those people made of crystals instead of flesh. I forget the species name. Very interesting to look at, and unlikely to be hurt by a high velocity acorn no matter where it hit. The helmet was golden, shiny, and probably a fashion statement of some kind.

“First we throw, then we hide.”

“Got it.”

“One, two, throw!”

Ping! Ping!

“Ow, what was — Acorn, is this yours?!”

We both giggled in childlike glee, just out of sight.

“No thanks, you can have it!” Acorn called back.

“I’m going to put this in your fruit drink next mealtime.”

“Good luck with that!”

I nodded. “Ah, a prank war. A noble pursuit.”

“See, you get it.” Acorn offered me more nuts.

I took them and made myself more comfortable. “I don’t suppose you know what a rattlesnake is?”

“Nope.”

“Then let me tell you about the time I got Trrili — the big scary Mesmer on my ship — with a classic prank from Earth.”

“Oh, do tell!”

I didn’t have to get back to my ship for a few minutes yet, which left plenty of time for more anecdotes and snacks on the good perch.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

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