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sanest-bsd-delegate · 1 year

Text

High Enough

Oneshot: You were a runaway, and his obsession never left you. Fyodor x Reader Idk guys how do you even cop up with this man's personality Masterlist Please look at the request rules in masterlist before requesting.

"Well well well, look what we have here" Fyodor commented as you took a seat in front of him.

"I am here for delivering the information regarding the recent attacks, don't take this meeting otherwise" You commented, passing him the envelope regarding plans to demolish the ability users.

"I don't like anyone better than you, it's true" Fyodor commented, placing his hand above yours which seemed to be kept above the envelope

That moment you knew shouldn't have come, because all the memories worth spent together came crashing down on you, years flashing down in seconds.

“I'd crawl a mile in a desolate place with the snakes, just for you” Fyodor said as he hugged you close, almost as if he was threatening to choke you to death but you all knew well he wouldn't be able to.

Oh, I'm an animal, hand me a tramadol, gimme the juice You are my citadel, you are my wishing well, my baby blue, oh, oh

He was obsessed with you. The first time you both met, was at the age of 17 when you seemed to bump into him for the first time, running away from your house which wasn't even your home.

He offered you a place to stay, and something you could soon call it a home. Alas, your beauty and personality captured his eyes, which was never to leave his mind.

Time passed as you both filled each other with nothing but your presence and company. It was one of those nights you couldn't have forgotten.

“I used to like liquor to get me inspired” You were drunk and whenever you drank, you couldn't differentiate anything. All seemed strange yet familiar but always felt like a new environment with new people, rather a new person.

“But you look so beautiful,” Fyodor silently commented to himself, as he smiled while you were busying waving the glass of alcohol above your head. “my new supplier?” you said clearly drunk, asking for more as you continued to speak,

"I used to like smoking to stop all the thinking" you paused, clearly looking as if you experienced a headache, but shaking off the feeling you continued, "But I found a different buzz, what is you thinking either ways Fyodor? "

"The world is a curse, it'll kill if you let it" he said, sighing as you dropped down the makeshift couch you had near you at the moment.

"I know they got pills that can help you forget it" You joked, as you threw your legs up in the sky, letting the alcohol mess up your brain and functioning.

"They bottle it, call it medicine" He commented, as he took you in his arms to stop you from throwing another silly body movement.

"No silly i was talking about the thing but you know what?"

"Hmm"

"But I don't need drugs" you whispered, slowly being in a fetal position with him, as your body merely inches apart.

"Cause I'm already high enough" And with that you kissed him, still unaware of this occurring due to being drunk.

That moment you knew, it was a wrong move. Day after, regaining your conciseness, you soon came face to face with Fyodor. At first the relationship was normal, ongoing and easy? But you couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty which increased each day. He was acting more possessive and maniac then usual.

"You got me, you got me good" He says while kissing your head.

"I'm already high enough" You joked back as you kisses his cheek.

"I only, I only, I only got eyes for you" He whispers before closing the minimal distance between your lips, his getting tighter then usual as he kisses you passionately.

It was all burning, one moment you were just accidently bumped into a guy and the other moment the area of city was on fire. You had just apologized to the guy for your actions, and in return just brought him his coffee back in the same store where Fyodor had to have his meeting. You were screwed being seen by other guy.

"Do you see anyone other than me?" Fyodor said as he carefully traces your jawline, his eyes showing pure jealously which you swore wasn't even healthy.

"Baby, please" You said, "Let me explain"

"I'll take a hit of whatever you got" He said, walking in the room and playing himself to play his cello.

"Maybe two, maybe three" He said smiling widely, tracing the strings of cello like soft fabric.

"Oh, you're phenomenal, feel like a domino, fall to my knees" He continued, as his words rang your ear. You were slowly losing your sanity with this guy. His words seemed to get the best of you. and if you fall into his words again, you would be nothing but a soulless body for a puppeteer like him.

"I am a malady, you are my galaxy, my sweet relief," He slowly opens his eyes as he stared at your soul, having his smile creep up little by little.

"oh, oh, oh" You cursed mentally, you could escape if you want right now but he was at the door now as his hands traced the door knob, which he twisted to lock up the room.

"I used to like liquor to get me inspired" He was coming close to you know.

"But you look so beautiful, my new supplier" You were getting scared as he seemed to come close. This was getting out of hand.

"I used to like smoking to stop all the thinking" His face was merely an inch apart from yours, "But I found a different buzz"

"The world is a curse, it'll kill if you let it" He told, holding your hands which seemed to be cold with fear.

"I know they got pills that can help you forget it" he said, as his hands travel to your face, brushing of your hair which seemed to come in front of your eyes.

"They bottle it, call it medicine" You gained a little confidence to speak up.

"But I don't need drugs" he whispered, as he started to close the gap between you two.

"Cause I'm already high enough"

You were running away again, this time away from the place you called home, away from the man who's sanity lies nowhere you could call a human and away from the lover who once was yours.

"You got me, you got me good" you whispered to yourself, as you found a shelter in nearby motel. His words rang in your ear as if he was just behind you speaking.

"I'm already high enough

I only, I only, I only got eyes for you"

"Don't try to give me cold water" You spoke to Fyodor harshly knowing to well you will be seeing this man soon. What were the odds that you both had to work for the same organization.

I don't wanna sober up

All I see are tomorrows

"Oh, the stars were made for us" Fyodor said, as he stood up, walking towards the exit of the café with the envelope, before whispering to you,

I'm already high enough

You got me, you got me good

"I'm already high enough" He whispered, his hands on your shoulder as he held it tightly, "I only, I only, I only got eyes for you"

In that mere time, the voices in you head started to ring again, his words repeating like a broken record.

I only got eyes for you

I only, I only, I only got eyes for you

Look guys, even i dont know what I write half of the time but this, Writing this was hawt af

Music: High enough by k flay

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor fluff #fyodor imagines #bsd #bsd fyodor #bsd x reader #bsd songfic

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ghostlygeto · 1 year

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six years passed | osamu miya

pairing: osamu miya x reader

warning: angst, hurt/no comfort, me failing at doing the miya accent, osamu being lovesick heartbroken pathetic all at the same time, reader is in the wrong 100%, idk please be nice i worked really hard on this, potential for part 2 but who knows with me

wc: 4.6k

sometimes, osamu would check your old social media profiles to see if you had been active. you never were.

it had been six years exactly since you ran away without saying goodbye to anyone. osamu had shown up to your house the next morning, the morning after their birthday, only for your parents to tell him that you weren’t there. they hadn’t heard from you. no one had. they didn’t seem to care much, though that didn’t surprise him. and it seemed like everyone else got over your disappearance quickly. after two weeks he noticed they’d stopped comments on your posts, ‘tsumu said he stopped texting you. after a month they stopped saying your name, and after two it felt like life had officially moved on without you. for everyone except osamu.

“are ya comin’ out with us today?” his twin asked, peaking his head in osamu’s room, “everyone’s ‘round. wanna go out fer drinks or somethin’.” atsumu knew that ‘samu would decline the offer. this day had been hard on all of them, they all missed you. but over the years the ache had lessened and they had stopped getting caught up in it. not osamu, though.

“can’t ya tell ‘m busy?” osamu groaned, moving his face out of his pillow. he forgot that everyone would be in tokyo tonight. it’d be the first time in awhile that they’d be able to make it to tokyo to celebrate the twins’ birthday. he’d feel guilty if he missed it, but did they really have to schedule it for today? certainly ‘tsumu had remembered what day it was. “don’ really think i’d be muchuva good time.”

“‘samu,” atsumu sighed, walking further into his brother’s room, “i know s’hard for ya, but don’ ya think it’s ‘bout time ya stop sulkin’ over it?” he sat at the edge of ‘samu’s bed, not wanting to invade his space too much. “i mean, i know they meant a lot t’ya ‘nd all, but s’been years. y/n wouldn’t want ya to still be so stuck.”

osamu wanted to scoff at his brother, but he knew ‘tsumu meant well. afterall, it was a little pathetic for him to be sulking in his room over someone at the age of twenty-four. it was easy for ‘tsumu to say all of those things. even though it felt unfair to hold over his brother’s head, you two had only been friends. osamu had been dating you. for a long time, at that. two and a half years together before you ran away, not counting the years of friendship before that. doing the math in his head quickly, it had been close to five years that you had known each other.

osamu hated the idea of you being gone for longer than he had known you.

“dunno. gimme a few hours, ‘nd i’ll get back to ya,” osamu tried to dismiss his brother, which thankfully worked. he enjoyed living with his brother, ‘tsumu was away a lot of the time anyway for volleyball games or whatever so he got to spend most of his time alone. but on the other hand it meant that on days like today, when all osamu wanted to do was rot in his bed, ‘tsumu made that harder. they always had each other’s best interest in mind, and sometimes that was infuriating.

osamu laid in his bed for another hour before he decided that going out with his friends would be the best. he missed them, the five of them never had time to get together anymore. he was pretty sure the last time they had all been together would’ve been when kita introduced them to his girlfriend (also when they announced their pregnancy). the baby had definitely been born by now and osamu still hadn’t met him. that wasn’t entirely his fault though, whenever he’d go to the kita’s farm for more fresh rice (osamu refused to get anything else for onigiri miya, he trusted kita with his life and restaurant) mrs. kita would be out with their son, or osamu had been in too much of a rush to meet the little one. and don’t begin bring up suna’s girlfriend- osamu was pretty sure suna would never let him live down the fact that they hadn’t met yet.

osamu somehow just realize how horrible he had been to his friend’s and their families.

with a sigh, osamu found himself standing in front of the mirror hanging off the back of his bathroom door. he frowned at the sight of himself, hair a wreck wearing the same onigiri miya shirt from his previous day’s work. he hadn’t realized that he looked just as bad as he felt until just now (probably because this was the first time he had really gotten out of bed for the day).

it took him twenty minutes in the shower to feel like he had gotten the previous day’s work ick off his body; and an additional five minutes of standing under the showerhead as the water got colder to convince himself going out was a good idea. he hadn’t officially told ‘tsumu yet, so it wasn’t too late to back out. he didn’t want to be around a bunch of people who’d be enjoying themselves, laughing like today wasn’t a bad day for all of them. for him.

“‘samu have ya decided- oh, ya showered!” atsumu had a wide smile on his face, one that made osamu realize immediately that he wouldn’t be able to tell his brother no. “so yer comin’ out with us?” asumu studied his brother’s face closely, watching as his expression went from ‘no, ya moron’ to ‘fine, i guess’.

“yes.”

“awesome!” atsumu cheered, immediately pulling out his phone to text their little group chat they’d had since high school (that osamu had muted since almost the day it started- suna sent way too many memes back in the day). “we’ll leave ‘ere soon, that okay?” it didn’t really matter what ‘samu would say back, atsumu knew if he left it to his brother they’d never leave. “i’ll be knockin’ in fifteen.”

— – - – — – - – —

he didn’t know it at the time, but osamu would soon learn the universe works in mysterious ways.

he didn’t regret going out with the other’s, not by any means. getting to know kita’s fiancée and suna’s girlfriend had been an amazing time, they meshed into the group very well. he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done this sooner (don’t let him lie, he absolutely could believe it). but it didn’t take long for his mind to wander, thinking he could hear your voice in the crowded bar.

even though he knew that your voice had probably changed over the last six years, he figured it hadn’t changed that much. and he knew that he’d be able to pick your laugh out of a stadium full of people (he did often during highschool volleyball games). he kept looking around the bar trying to find out, thinking he had been casual enough with it that the other’s wouldn’t notice.

but atsumu did, of course. because of course atsumu would, he sense a shift in ‘samu from the other side of the house. he watched with a nervous face as ‘samu looked around the room, a hurt-puppy type expression on his face. he sighed, realizing now that maybe he shouldn’t have had ‘samu come out with them. even if they were celebrating their birthday, and it wouldn’t be the same without him, it was a hard day for him. if he were being honest, atsumu requested they do it on this day intentionally. they all had a hard time today, even if everyone else had gotten over it more than ‘samu had. they all found themselves mourning the loss of their friend, and being together to do so would be better than the five of them doing it alone.

atsumu nudged kita, who was sat next to him. silently signaling the older man to get ‘samu’s attention. “osamu,” kita grabbed his younger friend’s attention, “how’s onigiri miya been doin’? are ya due fer more rice soon?”

“oh,” osamu let out a little nervous laugh, running his hand though his hair, “meant to get to ya about that soon, but didn’t want to talk business while we were out,” he smiled at them, “i’ll probably order double the amount that i did last time. the more i buy the bigger discount, right?”

kita smiled, a chuckled escaping his lips. “sure, i guess i can manage that fer ya,” he gave osamu a nod before changing the topic to something that osamu didn’t have to put his full attention into.

suna’s girlfriend started chatting to kita and his fiance about wedding things, aran, ‘tsumu, and suna all chatting about recent volleyball things. he knew they weren’t doing it intentionally, but osamu felt very alone. a feeling he had never felt while sitting in the group of his brother and best friends, he hated it.

osamu had been ready to leave, standing to excuse himself from the table and say goodnight to his friends. but something told him to look to his left, a weird little twinge in his stomach, the same feeling he’d got when he told ‘tsumu he wasn’t going to pursue volleyball. dread, guilt, hope. he almost had to do a double take, but god you were unmistakable. sitting at the table with a friend at the other side of the bar.

“‘samu, the hell ‘re ya- oh my god,” atsumu looked in the direction that ‘samu had been, his eyes falling straight to you as well. “well i’ll be damned..” he wasn’t sure what to do. on one hand, he wanted to go up to you. he wanted to ask you how you’d been, where you’d been. but, even with their sharp stares, you hadn’t noticed them, though he almost wished you had. you probably would’ve left if you saw them, and that would’ve been better for all of everyone.

by now the others noticed osamu standing completely still with an awestruck look on his face and atsumu staring in the same direction. osamu was too focused on your face to really hear what they said, but he definitely heard your name and a few profanities whispered.

“y/n, keep it casual, but there’s an entire table of hot guys staring at you,” your friend whispered, lightly shoving her head to your right. “like, really hot, holy shit.” at this point her face had turned a light shade of pink.

subtly had never been your thing; but surely if they had all been staring long enough for your very oblivious friend to notice then they wouldn’t mind if you made eye contact with at least one of them. you had it planned out in your mind already, you’d glance over your shoulder to meet eyes with one of the ‘hot’ men, wink, and then leave them (hopefully) flustered. maybe they’d argue over who you had winked at and have a little competition trying to get your number or something.

you brushed your hair over your shoulder, mentally replaying your little plan over and over in your head. eye contact, wink, look away. you were confident in yourself, excited to get a free drink or two from a guy probably far too drunk to be making financial decisions. however you did not expect to be greeted by the shocked faces of four of your high school best friends, and the heartbroken look from the boyfriend you never officially broke up with.

it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you the second you met osamu’s eyes. like you were going to throw up or pass out, maybe both. everything you had been hiding from for the last six years stood right in front of you now and you didn’t know how to react. it seemed like osamu didn’t either.

“wait, that’s miya atsumu,” your friend whispered, realizing now that she knew the blond man, “like the volleyball player..”

“jesus, i know who they are,” you finally took your eyes off of osamu to gare at your friend. it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know. you never told her about things before you came to tokyo, you figured the less you spoke of it the easier it would be to get over. and you were right for awhile, you had somehow managed to stop thinking about the twins and everyone else every single day after a year and a half of living in tokyo. now they only occupied your mind on days like their birthdays (the twins turned 24 yesterday), and the day you left.

today.

your friend seemed to notice the tension and excused herself to the bathroom, leaving you alone under the men’s stare. you didn’t look back up, rather directed your eyes down to the drink in front of you.

neither you or osamu wanted to be the first one to move. he felt like if he got any closer to you that you’d disappear. even though everyone else could clearly see you. he heard kita and suna explaining the situation to their partners, the recounting of his memories causing a pain in his chest: they didn’t know you. had kita and suna really never spoken about you? he hated that they all made it seem like you never existed after you left.

“are ya gonna go o’er there?” atsumu whispered to ‘samu, pushing him toward you. it had been three solid minutes of silence and staring, and atsumu had gotten tired of it. he knew that if he didn’t force his brother to go over there nothing would happen, because you definitely weren’t making any kind of effort to talk to them.

osamu’s body moved with the shove, finding himself standing right in front of you. his facial expression had finally changed from shock to pain as he sat in the free chair next to you. he knew he needed to think about what he would say next, worried that if he didn’t think it through he’d say something he’d regret.

what are you doing here? where have you been?

why did you leave me?

you finally looked away from your drink and spoke up, “we should go somewhere else and talk, miya,” you watched the way he reacted to being called by his last name. you had never done that before, because the twins hated being called by their last name. but it had been too long to call him anything else.

“since when d’ya call me that?” osamu let out a dry chuckle, unamused by your use of his surname. still he followed you outside, finally finding the right words to express the way he felt. “what the fuck, l/n,” your last name tasted sour in his mouth, he hated calling you that. but still, he hissed your name.

you flinched at osamu’s harsh use of language, you weren’t sure you had ever heard him speak that way to you before. not that you didn’t deserve it, of course you deserved it after everything you’d put him through. but still, you couldn’t help but shrink into yourself. “i know. i know i have a lot of explaining to do,” you hid your face in your hands, stopping in your place. it was late, only an hour or so until the bars would start closing, so the streets were empty. really only the two of you outside. “i just, i can’t. i don’t know what to say,”

“how ‘bout ya start with an apology?” he glared, but as soon as he saw the look on your face he felt guilty. how could he not when you look at him with those eyes? still, he kept his composure. “maybe an explanation as t’where ya’ve been the last six years?”

you struggled for a second, trying to find the right words. but there weren’t any, not really. none that could heal the pain you’ve caused him over the last six years, none that could even begin to make any sense to osamu. “i’m sorry,” you looked down at your fingers, picking at your cuticles, “really, i am. i would’ve told you that i was leaving but i couldn’t.”

“couldn’t?” osamu wanted to laugh, “y/n ya knew i would’ve followed ya to the ends of the earth if ya asked me. how could ya feel like ya couldn’t tell me?”

“that’s the issue, ‘samu!” your voice grew louder and broke, the lump in your throat making it’s way up. “you had so much going for you in hyogo. i couldn’t tell you i was leaving because i’d never forgive myself if you followed. and you would’ve. and i couldn’t let you talk me out of it. i had to go.” you tried not to let your tears fall. you didn’t deserve to cry, this wasn’t your moment. this was his, you needed to let him have it. he needed this.

it took osamu a full thirty seconds to process what you had said. you were right, if you had told him you were packing up and leaving he’d try and talk you out of it. and when (not if, because he knew you were very stubborn) that didn’t work, he’d go with you. but how could he not, even at eighteen osamu was pretty sure you were the person he would marry. he couldn’t see himself with anyone else. “so yer solution was t’disappear? not even havin’ the balls t’break up with me before hand?”

his words stung, you had to remind yourself that he needed to get this out. “it made sense at the time, ‘samu! i was eighteen. i needed away, it was a last minute decision. i spent all my money to get to tokyo in the middle of the night because i was too afraid that if i didn’t do it right then i’d be stuck and stay forever,” you weren’t trying to make excuses, you hoped he know that. “and once i was in tokyo, i didn’t want you to know. you would’ve skipped school, dropped all your plans, to come and find me. i figured if i ghosted, you’d worry for awhile and then get over it. get over me.”

get over you? surely you had to be joking, right? “do ya really believe that i had gotten over ya? that just leaving would make me magically forget ‘bout ya or somethin’? yer smarter than that, y/n,” osamu rolled his eyes, “i had it planned out in my head, how it’d go if i ever saw ya again. wanted t’give ya a piece of my mind and then leave ya standin’ alone dealin’ with it by yerself. but now that ‘m here, now that we’re here, all i can think about is how bad i missed ya this whole time. how ya still look the way i ‘member ya did.” osamu felt thankful you two had stopped in a dimly lit area, so you couldn’t see the redness in his face. he wasn’t sure if it had been from anger or embarrassment, but either way he didn’t want you to see it.

he felt pathetic. how could all of his anger fade away so quickly only to be replaced with the love he had never stopped feeling toward you? “couldja at leas’ break up with me? lemme move on ‘nd all,” his voice broke, a hand running down his face. he was trying not to cry, osamu hated crying.

the crack in osamu’s voice caught your attention. until this point you hadn’t understood how upset he had really been. you expected anger, maybe hatred. but for him to cry? you wouldn’t have expected that from him. even though you knew he wasn’t one to hold onto emotions like that, he had always been more mellow than his twin. at least in the years you had known him he had been. but osamu was different now, you could see that. his face may look the same, but he kept his hair natural now and his shoulders looked wider. everything about him just seemed more mature. “let you move on? ‘samu don’t tell me you’ve been alone this whole time?”

alone wasn’t the right word, surely. osamu wouldn’t describe himself a lonely, but he did stay single. he had told ‘tsumu (and everyone else) that it was because he wanted to focus on onigiri miya and everything else going on in his life the whole time. “nah, been too focused on the shop t’date. s’all,” he refused to tell you that he hadn’t dated anyone in six years because it felt wrong. whether it be because you two had never officially broken up or because he was just so in love with you that he didn’t want to be with anyone else (was there really a difference?) he wasn’t sure.

you knew osamu was lying, as it seemed his tells hadn’t changed over the years. but even if you wanted him to tell you the truth, you knew he would only tell you when he felt ready. so you didn’t push it any further. “maybe we should get together tomorrow,” you offered the idea, knowing osamu probably had a lot he wanted to say but in the moment he couldn’t find any of his words.

osamu wanted to object, he was worried that if he agreed to meet up tomorrow then you’d just disappear again. he’d have no chance of finding you if you ran off again. “‘m not sure that’s-”

“i won’t run off again,” you shook your head, knowing what he was trying to say before he even finished. he was right to be worrisome about it, you couldn’t blame him. “here,” you pulled out your phone and sent him a text, watching as he pulled it out at the sound of a text. you didn’t really want to tell him that you’d kept his number saved in your phone all these years just in case you decided to reach out, but he needed the extra level of reassurance. “now you know i won’t just run away. i really mean it, we should meet up tomorrow and talk about this some more.”

you could see the hesitance in his face, you felt bad that this was all happening. it was your fault, after all. maybe if you hadn’t been a stupid eighteen year old, if you had stopped being selfish for just a second back then, things wouldn’t be like this now.

you honestly wondered if things would’ve stayed the same between you and osamu. would you two have stayed together? would he still be running his restaurant here in tokyo (which yes, you knew about. your friends tried to drag you there on multiple occasions but you always found your way out, somehow)? there were so many things you knew you missed out on when running away, but you didn’t think you’d miss things you never had this badly.

“meet me at the shop,” osamu offers, “i open late on mondays. be there ‘round 11?”

of course he opened late on mondays. they had always been his least favorite day of the week, and now that he was in control of his schedule it didn’t surprise you that he’d make it that way. “i’ll be there.”

— – - – — – - – —

having all night to clear his head and put his thoughts into words didn’t really help osamu at all. in fact, he could barely sleep that night. he’d be running onigiri miya off of steam and vibes alone today.

maybe starting off his day with talking things out with you hadn’t been the best idea osamu had ever had. it would set the tone for the rest of the day, so he could only hope that it went well. though he wasn’t sure how it could, the best ending for the two of you would probably be to never speak again, if he were being honest with himself.

but that’s not what osamu wanted.

even though it was stupid of him (‘tsumu wouldn’t let him hear the end of it the night before), osamu knew that he didn’t want to just call things quits and give up. he was never much of a quitter before, and he sure as hell wasn’t now. but it would be hard, he knew that. to even begin to build any amount of trust between the two of you would take ages. you’d be lucky if things got better within a year.

when you showed up to onigiri miya you could see osamu moving around inside through the windows. he seemed worked up, pacing around in his own world. you watched him jump when you knocked on the door, a wave of relief seeming to wash over him when he saw your face. it made you feel bad, he had probably been nervous all morning as to whether or not you were actually going to show.

“mornin’,” he greeted, unlocking to door to let you in and relocking it behind you. he made sure that the sign was flipped to closed and that none of the exterior lights were on yet, he didn’t want anyone to interrupt this talk between you. “how’d ya sleep?”

like shit. you wanted to tell him, but you refrained. “good morning, i slept okay. yourself?” the tension between the two of you remained thick, neither of you wanted to be the first to break it. this was your mess, therefore your job to fix it. “so did you uh, get to think about things? collect all your thoughts?”

osamu sucked in a breath. even though that was the main reason you were both here (well, main reason you were here. this is his job), he wasn’t sure if he were ready yet. though if he were being honest, he’d probably never be ready. “i’ll let ya go first,” he sat down at a table, gesturing for you to sit across from him. you obliged, figuring that it was better than standing.

“i guess, is it stupid to ask if you’re mad at me?” you gave a small, pathetic little chuckle. you already knew the answer to that question. “i’m not even sure how i convinced myself that running away was a good idea. i know i told you last night that i had to do it right then or i thought i’d be stuck. i stand by that, i wouldn’t have left if i hadn’t done it right then. but you guys didn’t deserve to just be left in the dark like that. you didn’t deserve that, ‘samu. not from someone you loved,”

love. he wanted to correct you, but held back. “i wanna be mad at ya, i really do. t’be honest, y/n ya really deserve me t’be mad at ya. i jus’, i really need ya t’break up with me,” he was worried he sounded just as pathetic as he felt, asking for that. as if you disappearing hadn’t been a very clear indication of a breakup. but without the real words, osamu felt sick to his stomach any time he even thought about being with someone else. at least now he’d be able to try and move on properly.

“right,” you puffed out your cheeks. why were you so nervous? ‘breaking up’ shouldn’t be a big thing, you two had been apart all this time. so why now were you so hesitant? the thought of saying those words to osamu made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. your chest tightening as you tried to find the words. “osamu i… i think we should break up,”

comments, like, and reblogs appreciated!! <3

#osamu miya x reader #osamu miya angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu angst #miya osamu #osamu miya #six years passed #syp!osamu #syp!reader

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slamminslamminmcgill · 1 year

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thoughts on sub lalo? Idk how it will work but 🤔🤔🤔🤔

it won't 🖤 but i want to believe

he's not a sub. not in the slightest.

HOWEVER

if he's on the couch and you just... crawl in his lap and take what you want, he's not exactly going to stop you. he'll let you take him for a ride.

it's like a chihuahua barking at a pit bull. he thinks it's cute seeing you try to take control, knowing at any moment he could yank it right back. but he'll let you have your fun.

he will tease. he will be a brat. he has to.

once you climb on top of him and start kissing his neck, he's sure to make a comment.

"oh? someone's feeling frisky today, eh? just couldn't wait for me to take care of you?"

you're sitting in his lap and straddling his hips while you make out. he reaches up to grab you and you pin his arms to his sides "don't touch me."

he's dumbfounded. at first, he'll comply because he's not sure what to do otherwise. then he realizes you want him to follow orders, so he won't <3

he'll sneak his hands up to grab your hips, and you take his hands and pin them to the back of the couch. "i said no, lalo."

he'll give you a cheeky laugh and a shit-eating grin, but he'll relent. "okay, fine. you're the boss."

he'll let you restrict his hands (either by pinning them down or some light bondage) and tug his hair, but that's the only domination he'll let you have. if you try to slap him or choke him or anything like that he will put you down hard.

as for bottoming, there are 2 ways it'll happen:

lalo trusts you more than he has ever trusted another human being he wants to surrender himself fully to you and be vulnerable for the first time in his fucking life. OR

lalo is horny and wants his ass pounded.

that's it. he's not bottoming otherwise

complete fucking power bottom btw. absolutely shameless. and he's LOUD.

he'd almost cackle with laughter more than he moans. he'll thrust his hips back into you. he'll ask you to pull his hair, and this is the one time you're allowed to slap/spank/choke him. shit, he'll bark orders at you to do it. he doesn't do it often, so when he does, that extra sting of pain drives him crazy.

"¡sí! ¡sí! ¡fóllame! ¡fóllame, te cabrón! ¡dámelo! ¡dáme más! (yes! yes! fuck me! fuck me, you bitch! give it to me! gimme more!)"

you feel like you're having a stroke. you've never seen him like this. it's insane. you try your best to keep up with him, but he's an animal.

he can tell you're hesitating, so he'll tell you to go for it. "c'mon, you can do better than that! hit me! let me have it!"

once the two of you finish, he's back to normal. he'll laugh it off and even give you a high five.

"¡bien hecho, chiquito! (good job, kid!) we gotta do that again sometime!"

#anon #ask #better call saul #better call saul x reader #better call saul imagine #better call saul smut #better call saul headcanons #better call saul hcs #bcs #bcs x reader #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca headcanons #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca smut #lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca hcs

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elliot-needs-sleep · 4 months

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ELLIOTTTTYT

It’s comfort fic time

Idk why but I’ve just been real off lately

So like

Gimme mold man and metal man (my two favorite bbgs) with masc reader who’s just been distant and stuff

I want them to hold my hands :(

Okay byeeeeee <3

You REALLY came back here for Ethan and the trash man

And I couldnt hope for anything different <3

It's a tad bit short but it's sweet!

Hands to hold

Fic Type: Short form

Fandom: Resident Evil 8

Characters: Ethan Winters, Karl Heisenberg

Your two lovers couldn't seem to figure out what was wrong lately.

You were acting strange lately. You were quiet, and it seemed to them that you were distancing yourself from them, but they couldn't figure out why you were.

---

"What's going on, darling?" Ethan's voice was quiet as he and Karl sat down on either side you, and you just shrugged silently, not knowing how to explain how you were feeling.

"It's alright if you don't have the words, hun. We're here for you, whether you're able to talk about it or not." Karl's voice left no room for negotiation as he gently took one of your hands in his own.

"He's right, you know." Ethan lightly bumped into your shoulder with his own, taking your other hand into his own and gently squeezing it. "You're our boyfriend. We're here for you, no matter what."

"Yeah, you can't get rid of us that easily." You laugh slightly at Karl's comment, leaning against the both of them as you three sat there for a bit in silence.

"I'm... not ready to talk about it yet... but thank you both for being here." You spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace that had settled over you three.

"And that's alright." Ethan said softly, raising your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"We'll be here. Always." Karl finished, squeezing your hand a bit tighter.

Sure, things might've sucked at the moment. But you had no doubt that with these two by your side, things would get better.

#elliotswriting #re8 oneshot #re8 #resident evil 8 x reader #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil 8 #resident evil ethan winters #ethan winters x reader #ethan winters #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg #anon asks

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zimthandmade · 6 months

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I’m a little late but…Happy birthday to our boi Mello! Was yesterday lol SO…Question.

Does M&M (Matt&Mello) feel jealousy of each other? I mean, Matt did say in canon that he finds Misa hot and Mello did have a toxic obsession on getting the upper hand with Near every time he layed eyes on him (don’t know if this aspect of their relationship is in your headcanon’s but I saw they had fights when they’re kids in one of your posts sooo idk). Sorry if I misspelled something here, just minor curiosity, english isn’t my first language but I love the way u draw the Wammy’s kids and ur headcanons!

The short version is: Oh yeah, Mello is jealous on main. As friend AND lover. Matt is a lot more chill about it.

Here’s some scenarios I can see play out in both 2.0 and 2.1, if you feel like reading:

2.0

Neither at Wammy’s nor in L.A., they both don’t have many friends for different reasons. Matt is a loudmouth, Mello has attitudes. Let’s just say they’re both pretty unpleasant to have around most of the time if you’re not in on their humour. At Wammy’s, Matt one time bonds with some kids over video games or something and Mello instantly tries to intervene, being afraid they’re stealing his only friend. Mello keeps interrupting, trying to steal the show, talks down on everything Matt seems to have a shared passion with the other kid and he’s being such a nasty wanker until Matt’s had enough and fists start flying. “I CAN BE FRIENDS WITH OTHER PEOPLE TOO, YOU KNOW?! GIMME A BREAK!” “BUT I ONLY HAVE YOU!!” ”THAT’S NOT MY PROBLEM, MELLO! YOU’D HAVE OTHER FRIENDS TOO IF YOU STOPPED BEING A PISSPOT EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE!” They avoid each other as much as possible the next days. Matt hangs around at his new friend group while Mello is just bitterly watching them from afar. Maybe he actually makes the efford to talk to other people out of desparation? Matt enjoys the new company for 2 days before he gets bored. The conversations are dull, nobody laughs at his brilliant jokes and they openly gossip about Mello. He hears rumors about him that he would rather not have heard and he starts to feel sorry for him. But he doesn't want to apologise either - Mello was clearly being a prick earlier. I don’t think Mello ever apologises, things just fall back in place someday. I can see them sitting in class - Matt with his new buddies at the front, Mello at the back, but within earshot. And Matt makes some insanely stupid comment, some joke NOBODY laughs about. He hears a chuckle behind him. Matt turns around, Mello grins at him, Matt grins back. And that's it.

Another time at Wammy’s, Mello gets an enormous bottle of the most balkan aftershave you can think of (what the fuck, Nikola, the boy is like 13 or something) for his birthday. Matt unknowingly mistakes the stuff for some really expensive shampoo or something and empties the whole thing on himself thinking “It burns like a buttcheek on a stick, that means: it works.”. It’s all croatian on the bottle, so he can’t read anything anyways. The shower can’t be used for over a week because of the stench. Ivanka (Mellos mom) is over for a visit a day after and comments on how Matt reminds her of Nikola and she gets overly sentimental and touchy with Matt. Nothing perverted happening but it’s just the whole vibe of this visit is OFF, everyone is so uncomfortable. Once Ivanka is gone, Mellos slams the door shut “You wanker, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?!” ”’scuse me??” Another fight breaks out, Mello punches first. ”-JUST BECAUSE YOU NEVER HAD A MOM DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN THROW YOURSELF AT MINE!!” ””THROW MYSELF AT—” WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU IMPLYING MELLO?!” Again, they don’t talk for a few days after that. But this time, Mello apologises. ”Hey man, I overreacted earlier-” “-greatly, yeah.” “Yeah. Sorry. I mean, nobody wants to smell like that voluntarily, am I right? Are we cool again?” ”Sure.”

2.1

I headcanon that Matt works in all kinds of different jobs, like, as a cashier at a GameStop, at Walmart, Starbucks, maybe even something like an IT guy or a software developer at small tech companies … just some stuff on the side while Mello is doing “the more important stuff” - they’re still working towards the whole “catch Kira”-mission after all. Mello sometimes stops by at wherever Matt works at the moment and sees him interacting with female coworkers or trying to unsuccessfully flirt with customers. Especially when Mello starts crushing on Matt, seeing this play out makes him feel like throwing up. It’s one of the tell tale signs for him to realise he feels more for Matt than friendship. I can see him downright interrogating Matt about who his regular contacts are, all under the pretense that they “mustn’t lose cover, can’t reveal their identity” and he pressures Matt into not getting too close to anyone.

I can see this play the other way around too though, when Matt is crushing on Mello. Mello showing up at Matts workplace, with a biker look, you know, cool ass leather jacket, helmet under one arm, whipping his hair back, looking SLEEK AS FUCK, only thing missing are the guitar riffs playing in the background as he enters the store. He asks the girl behind the counter if Matt is here and without taking her eyes off Mello shouts a “MAAAAATT-” “huh?!” “THERE’S SOMEONE HERE FOR YOU” Matt comes stumbling out from some backrooms and has the widest smile when he sees who’s here. And the girl watches them outside through a window talking, eyeing Mello respectfully. Matt comes back in and she goes “Matt, who was that??” “My roommate - why?” “OOHH Is he taken?” “Uhm, I don’t think so…?” “Nice. Can you, like, invite me over sometime??” “What, why??” “That guy is HOT.” And Matt feels the jealously well up and his mind starts racing, picturing Mello with this girl in various situations and him being the miserable third wheel. The girl notices Matts reserved reaction and goes “OH WAIT, NO- YOUR “ROOMMATE”?? Are you two…?” “NO NO It’s not like that! We’re just- just friends…”

And yeah the thing with Misa haha Notice how they start with Matt following Misa and after hearing his comments about how Matt thinks she’s cute, Mello is promptly taking the job on listening in to her? And Mello refusing to switch despite Matt asking for it? He is 100% mocking Mello with the whole “your job would be better since you can listen to a cute girl”. He knows Mello is jealous and tries to mess with him a little. At least that’s my interpretation wearing heavily mellodramattically tainted glasses.

#ask #death note #dn au 2.0 #dn au 2.1 #headcanon #au #mello #matt #mihael keehl #mail jeevas #wammys boys #wammys house #wammy boys #wammy kids #wammy's house

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denim-mixtapes · 2 years

Text

(Must've Been While You Were Kissin' Me) Part 2 of 4 Word Count: 4k+ Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Tags: EXPLICIT SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI - Rockstar/Radio DJ AU, canon divergence, set in 1992 and Eddie has more piercings and tattoos than ever, thigh riding, semi public sex, very slight voyeurism/humiliation kink if you squint, oral sex (m&f receiving), dirty talk, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex (do not do this), light spanking, come eating, pet names instead of y/n (sweetheart, doll, baby), really lame open end for a potential third part, idk man this got away from me.

Summary: Working as a woman in Rock n' Roll radio, you encountered your fair share of flirtatious rock stars. Often, they would flirt to belittle you, to question your love and knowledge of the genre, but Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin seems to know just which buttons to put to get on your good side. (Part 1) ... and into your pants (Part 2)

[A/N]: This is part 2 to You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth, and TECHNCIALLY can be enjoyed as a stand alone fic, but it'll make a lot more sense if you read part 1, so I recommend it! Also I DID kind of allude to a third installment, and I've already got some ideas floating around for it so gimme some love on this guy and let me know if you want to see a third part!

[Part 1] [AO3] [Part 3]

An hour after you wrap up your show, you find yourself climbing out of a cab with your coworkers and the members of Corroded Coffin.

You watch the smoke on Eddie’s breath billow up towards the sky as he leads you into the bar. Lazy, curling wisps of it floating up above your heads and dissipating in front of the harsh neon sign. His arm is slung casually around you, fingers curled possessively on your shoulder, while the rest of the group trails clumsily behind you.

It was tradition, the station taking the night’s guests out for drinks after the show, but it wasn’t something you were typically this eager for, it wasn’t usually your scene. Not that you’d admit it now, tucked under Eddie Munson’s arm and being marched toward the very small VIP section of the only club worth a damn in Fort Wayne, without so much as a second glance from the bouncer.

Harrington, Henderson, and the station assistant (a doe-eyed, often starstruck little thing named Darla) offer to go get the first round of drinks as you settle into one of the large, circular booths around a too-small cocktail table in the corner.

Never have you been more grateful for the anonymity that radio provides. You can feel the attention of nearly every patron in this bar, their eyes glued to the members of the band, no doubt surprised by their presence. Even moreso, you can feel the jealous eyes and hot stares of the women (and a few men) who wish they were in your place. If any of them were to recognize you, you’re sure years of professionalism would be flushed straight down the toilet. Still, with fingertips drawing shapes into the skin of your shoulder and the rumble of laughter under the weight of your body leaning into his, you’re not so sure how professional you can claim to be.

It isn’t clear how you got here, how he convinced you to come. Every pet name he called you, every brush of his hand against your waist, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Letting habitually flirtatious rock stars down easy was your bread and butter, but somehow this one got to you. The gentleness in his eyes or the way he didn’t ever interrupt you just to disregard your opinion and make an offhand comment on your appearance. In the cab to the bar he even commended your research into the band, claiming nobody ever digs far enough to get past the murder charges. Even now he seems impressed, when you clock the song playing over the thrumming sound system.

“What?” You giggle, thanking Darla with a smile as she passes you your favorite drink, “It’s literally my job to know music, what did you think, I wouldn't recognize fuckin’ Metallica?”

“Jesus Christ,” he scoffs, beer bottle to his lips, “not Disposable Heroes, nobody knows Disposable Heroes.”

“Well, I do!” You snark though a prideful wrinkle of your nose, and hold your bottle up. He taps the neck of his own against it. Unsure of what else to say, you throw out the world’s lamest last minute toast. “To a successful show at the Slippery Noodle tomorrow.”

He raises a brow, his stare intense and taunting, “and a good time to be had tonight.”

You flush as you take a sip, wishing you could hide behind your beer.

So you drink.

You talk with him and the rest of the group, rowdy at first, voices tangling and building above each other. Another toast, plastic cups and beer bottles cracking against one another in the middle of the boisterous group.

You drink more.

Jeff and the Freak find a pool table and disappear there for the rest of the night.

You lean heavier on the solid body beside you as a pleasant buzz takes over.

Gareth finally works up the nerve to ask Darla to dance, and they’re off.

As less people surround you, Eddie’s touches linger longer, press deeper into plush skin wherever his hand may rest at the moment.

Henderson and Harrington head back to their hotel with a stern warning to not get into too much trouble, and then it’s just the two of you.

When your drinks continue to sit empty well into the tale of your first punk show, you regretfully peel yourself away from his body, put the story on hold, and make your way to the bar. He calls, “hurry back, sweetheart,” to your backside as you walk away, as if you weren’t already practically skipping to get back to his side faster. Another round of beers ordered, you duck through the crowded dance floor to join him back in your secluded booth in the corner. Upon your return, you set both bottles onto the table and try to take your seat in the booth again, but greedy, eager hands grab your hips, pulling you into the seat of his lap instead.

A breathy giggle erupts from your chest, but you don’t protest, letting him wrap an arm around your middle to continue doodling absentmindedly on the hip bone exposed by your cropped tee.

“You know there’s plenty of room on this bench,” you chide, “I think I can fit.”

He hums in contemplation. You aren’t sure if it’s the bass from the dance music rattling your chest, or the tickle of his breath across your neck that raises goosebumps on your skin. “Maybe,” Eddie muses, nosing at the spot just behind your ear, breathing you in. “But I like you right here.”

How charming.

You stutter a soft, “fair enough,” but it’s all you can manage, distracted by the feeling of his lips on your neck, exploring your heated skin, seeking out the places that make you sigh.

Smirk pressed to your pulse point, he hums again, arm tightening around you. “Well?” He urges, “go on.”

“Go on with what?”

The ghost of a laugh dances along your skin, “You were telling me how you got into the industry. C’mon doll, I was fascinated, don’t let me distract you.”

There wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his voice when he expressed his interest, so you try to push through the haze that’s quickly clouding your mind, and continue on with the story you started before finding yourself in his lap. You paint the picture, talking about the colorful characters at your very first punk show and the feeling of the bass in your chest that only made you crave more. He continues to mouth at your neck, tug on an earlobe with bared teeth, savoring the way your breath would hitch or you would fumble over your words when he found a particularly sensitive spot. You reach the end of your tale, breathless and acutely aware of your surroundings, and turn as best you can in his arms.

Round, deep honey eyes shine as they lift to yours, tongue skating across his lower lip before rolling it lazily between his teeth. You don’t even try to avert your gaze.

Shameless.

“Are we done with storytime now?” You ask through a poorly disguised sigh, tacking on a playful, “I simply can not go on with you distracting me like this.”

His response comes in the form of a hungry kiss, more teeth and tongue than anything else, but it’s even more intoxicating than any drink you consumed so far tonight. Both of his hands grip your cheeks, holding you in place to deepen the kiss, hot, curious tongue licking as far into your waiting mouth as he can. Your hand fists in the cotton of his tee shirt, a soft moan passed from your lips to his, drowned out by the loud music around you.

It feels like hours that you’re wrapped up in one another, all roaming hands and shared, ragged breaths and desperate sounds swallowed quickly by the other. You don’t realize you’ve fully turned to straddle him in the tight space of the booth until his hands on your hips drag them down into his. The harsh drag of denim against your center drawing a strangled moan from you as you break from his lips. Both of your chests heave, foreheads pressed together and your breaths mingling between you. Wordlessly, he nods toward the back hallway to your right, eyes crinkling with mischief, fingers bruising on your hips. You flush, adrenaline and the heat of his stare prickling your skin. You should be ashamed of how quickly you nod, your motions clumsy as you climb off of him, but your racing heart and the cool bite of metal from his hand on your lower back guiding you forward allow no room for shame.

He leads you to the bathroom with the kind of confidence that only comes with stardom, like he’s daring anyone to stop him, knowing they won’t. You, however, peek nervously over your shoulder at the bar. Cigarette smoke and the fog from the dance floor casts a haze over the room, offering you some cover and comfort.

The slam of the lock brings you back to yourself as you take in the scene around you. Stickered, graffitied walls, a flickering vanity light, and a faint musty stench.

But then Eddie’s crowding you up against the locked door, a palm pressed to the space above your head and his own scent of smoke and sandalwood and leather taking over your senses. He wedges a knee between your thighs, smirking at the keening sound the action draws from your throat, and continues his earlier assault on your neck. Behind closed doors, his attention is even hungrier. A possessive hand grips your neck, tilting your chin away to expose more of your throat to his eager mouth. He brings his other hand to ruck up the hem of your top, fingertips skimming the warm skin as he exposes it, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You know,” he mumbles into your skin, palming at you through the thin material of your shirt and humming in satisfaction when you arch into his touch, hips still rutting against the thigh between your legs. “Didn’t peg you for the type to be into this kinda thing,” he pauses, drags a knuckle up the column of your throat. “Dirty bar bathroom and all that.”

“‘M not,” you mutter in protest, your body betraying your words and grinding harder into his thigh, seeking any sort of relief from the needy ache in your core.

A dark laugh accompanies his words as he asks, “then what do you call this?” His face is cocky, he knows he’s caught you in a lie, and his look darkens as he tears your top up and over your head.

You return the favor, pulling clumsily at the leather of his jacket until you can wrench it off of his body, his shirt following immediately after. Eyeing the ink littering his body, the dark contrast against his pale flesh, harsh scars and coarse hair dusting the skin of his abdomen, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth and quip, “an exception.”

The smart comment you’re sure he’s building up to is cut short in his throat when you sink to your knees – the cold, hard tile biting into your skin through the rips in your jeans – and make quick work of his belt. Opening his pants, you adjust them just enough so that his cock springs free, your mouth watering at the sight. He’s not even fully erect yet, but it’s long and deliciously thick, flushed red at the tip. Reaching out to stroke him, you savor in the groan he lets out, feeling him harden even more at your touch. Then another, as you lean in to run your tongue along the underside of his cock.

As far as you’re concerned, you have all the time in the world in this bathroom, nobody is waiting outside the locked door.

You take your time, switching between tiny, teasing kisses and long, broad licks up and down either side of his gorgeous length. Eddie swears and a hand flies to your hair, fisting in the length of it as you finally take him into your mouth with a happy little hum, tongue swirling around the head before sinking lower. His hand in your hair guides you even closer as he takes control and fucks into your open, waiting mouth with shallow thrusts, a string of expletives falling from his lips. You swallow past your gag reflex, and look up through batting lashes at his face twisted in pleasure, giving the tiniest nod as you allow him to thrust even deeper into your throat. The sounds he makes are downright pornographic, deep and rumbling and desperate. You swear you can feel them in your cunt, thighs pressed together seeking out any sort of relief.

With your nose pressed firmly into his skin, he stills you, holds you in place and brushes the backs of his fingers along your cheekbone. It’s a gesture that you would even call gentlemanly, if not for his cock in your throat.

Breath faltering, you gag around his length and he pulls you off of him by the hair, leaving you with ragged breath and a trail of saliva still connecting you to his cock. You lick it away, mouth agape, nothing but a simple dart of the tongue, but his eyes follow the motion just as subtly.

A hand scrubs across the lower half of his face, dragging his lip in its wake. “Shit,” he breathes, a hand cupping under your chin to coax you back to your feet, “get up here.” When you’re standing in front of him again, he grabs a handful of your ass, fingers slipping past the waist of your jeans, cool steel stinging against your hot skin, and pulls you into him. The other hand pops the button on your pants and his deep inhale is practically predatory, his pupils blown and the brown of his eyes so dark that they look black.

“I can smell how wet you are,” he murmurs into your neck, squeezing at the globe of your ass again before retrieving his hand to work your pants and panties down your legs in one go. He’s right. The cotton of your panties sticks to you with your slick, the scent of your arousal filling the room as he exposes you. The sight of him circling you, eyes roaming your skin like you’re his prey, has you speechless. All you can do is whimper in response and follow him with your eyes, anticipating his next move. With a hand on your shoulder he urges you to bend over the edge of the countertop, and you comply, shivering under his attention and the cool air that hits your exposed, dripping center. You grip the edge of the sink, breasts pressed firm into the marble countertop, and wait. He continues, “all this,” emphasizing his statement with a rough drag of his palm across your lower lips, smearing your juices across the backs of your thighs obscenely, “just from sucking my cock?” He prods at your hole, middle and ring fingers sinking inside you easily. The cold steel of his rings kisses at your entrance and pulls another wrecked sound from your throat, thankful to finally feel some sort of relief. Wet, squelching sounds fill the room alongside your cries as he fucks roughly into you with his fingers. “Oh I don’t believe you for a minute that this is an exception. You’re soaked, you love this.”

You want to stutter a protest, tell him he’s wrong, but then he curls his fingers inside you and strokes against your walls and you’re bucking back into his ministrations instead, argument long forgotten.

Cocky chuckle on his lips, fingers buried deep inside you, he continues monologuing. “Turns you on, doesn’t it? The thought that everyone who walks past this door knows just what’s going on behind it, that someone could try to walk in at any moment and catch you like this. Debauched,” he punctuates the word with a sharp, teasing smack! to your backside. It’s barely anything, you can tell he’s testing the waters, but even the thought of another has you clenching around his fingers. His tone darkens and he does it again, harder, sharper, with another accusation. “Lecherous.” Another blow, harder even than the last, is dealt to the opposite cheek. Your skin stings when he runs a soothing hand over the pink, angry mark he left behind. Withdrawing his fingers to toy lazily with your clit, he leans over you, breathing his last statement into your ear, “fucking desperate, practically begging me to fuck you right here in this bathroom.”

Oh, so it’s begging he wants?

You decide at that moment that you aren’t above begging. Literally anything to offer you some sweet relief because once again he’s teasing. Featherlight touches compared to the rough hands that were on you only moments ago.

“Please, Eddie,” You whimper, arching your back. His fingers slip between your lower lips, collecting the wetness he finds there, but the touch is gone as quickly as it appeared. Fed up, you glare over your shoulder, only to find him licking his own fingers clean, a blissed out smirk on his face. You groan at the sight of it, dropping your head back onto your crossed arms with an impatient huff.

“Please, what, sweetheart?” He taunts, spreading your lips with both hands, thumbs teasing at your cunt but not ever pushing inside.

Your response is a babbling mess of desperate words, a series of wanton pleas falling from your lips in no particular order. It’s near unintelligible, but he makes out a few key phrases that are more than enough for him. “Please just touch me,” and, “fuck, anything, just please,” and, “whatever you want, just fuck me.”

The head of his cock notches at your entrance, head just barely pushing inside, and it silences your babbling, your breath hitching in your throat.

His voice is saccharine, sweet as honey as he says, “if you insist,” before driving his hips forward, filling you quickly with one harsh snap. The sudden fullness is intoxicating, a stinging stretch that has you moaning loudly, not a care in the world who hears. “That’s it, baby,” he grunts, pulling almost all the way back out before slamming back into you, punching another heady noise from deep within your chest. “Let it out.”

Eddie’s motions are frenzied, fucking you with a renewed energy, skin slapping harshly against skin. Another rush of arousal floods your core when he reaches out to fist in your hair again, wrenching you up and off the sink and into his chest. Your hip bones slam into the marble with every thrust, surely making just as much of a mark as his bruising grip on your waist, but you can practically feel his cock in your molars he’s hitting so deep and all you can really focus on is the delicious drag of his length against your inner walls and the overall feeling of being filled to the brim.

Reaching a hand up over your shoulder, you tangle your own fingers in his hair, steadying yourself, turning just enough to catch his lips in a sloppy kiss, if you could call it a kiss from this angle. It’s more of a swapping of spit and a shared, hot breath between you, but his fingers tighten at your scalp and he fucks up into you even harder so you really couldn’t care less.

There’s a rattling from the doorknob, a harsh pull that has you gasping in surprise, but Eddie can feel the way your walls flutter around him and it only spurs him on more.

Then, a knock, another jiggle at the door handle. A faint, annoyed voice from the other side.

Eddie growls, practically roars, “occupied!” Letting his grip on your hair loose, his now free hand works its way down your body. Splaying over your throat to feel the noises he’s drawing from you, down dragging his nails over the swell of your breast, pinching a nipple through the delicate fabric of your bra. Then, burying his hand between your legs, he murmurs in your ear, “c’mon baby, let ‘em hear you.” He circles your clit, agonizingly slow at first, then speeding up in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck!” You moan out, hips moving on their own accord to meet his with crude, wet sounds. His fingers work harder against you, the tension building in your stomach, your pussy squeezing eagerly at his cock. Your skin is alight with heat and everywhere he touches you sends pleasure straight to your core. Eyes wound shut, your voice comes out weaker now, “Eddie, please.”

“I got you, sweetheart,” he consoles before sinking his teeth into the curve of your neck, doubling his efforts on your clit, his thrusts shallow and disconnected. He’s just as close as you are.

Your orgasm takes you both by surprise. One moment you’re teetering on the precipice and the next you’re thrown over the edge, head thrown back onto Eddie’s shoulder, shuddering with a spent cry. Your hips twitch, channel milking his cock for all its worth, your release triggering his own.

He stills, spilling into you, squeezing a bruising handprint into the meat of your hip. When he pulls out, you can feel his cum leaking out of you, a fact that you should be appalled by, but the feeling of it dripping down your thighs only makes you clench around nothing, the sudden emptiness.

You remain draped lazily over the counter as he rights himself, doing up his fly and shrugging on his shirt. You know you should move, get dressed, get out of there so that people can actually use the bathroom for its intended purpose, but your legs are jelly and you don’t trust yourself to move quite yet.

Eddie’s hand on your lower back reminds you that you should get moving, and you hum, mumbling a soft, “mmh, gimme a minute, I’ll get dressed in a sec.”

“Like hell you will,” he scolds, sinking to his knees behind you. You look over your shoulder quizzically at him, a soft confusion painting your features and a little ‘hm?’ caught in your throat. It endears him to you even more, he chuckles lightly, lifting one of your ankles and pulling it free from the confines of your pant leg.

“You know, this feels like the opposite of what should be happening,” you point out, but when he nudges your knees apart, you comply, spreading your legs further.

“Look at you,” he scolds, “you’re filthy. Gotta clean you up before we head back out there.” Before you can question him, he dives forward, licking at your messy folds with a satisfied groan, your own moan echoing him. He spreads your lips with two fingers, digging into your hole with his tongue and slurping at the mixture of your combined releases. It’s obscene, the sounds coming from behind you, and you can’t help but press your aching cunt harder into his face. “Eager little thing, aren’t we?” He taunts against your pussy, words muffled.

“S-says the man who won’t even let me get dressed,” you tease back. Not that you’re complaining, at all.

He doesn’t justify that with a response, just continues to eat you out slowly, lazily, thoroughly until he can only taste you in your cunt again.

He doesn’t give you the satisfaction of another orgasm, though he brings you right up to the edge, and he chuckles darkly when you whine as he helps you back into your jeans.

“Gotta leave you wanting a little more, right?” He quips, flashing a toothy grin as you pull your top over your head. He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles, yet another chivalrous gesture wildly contrasting the romp you just shared. Then, reaching down to grip your ass as he guides you to the door, he leans down to your ear and murmurs, “gives you something to look forward to when I bring you backstage after the show tomorrow.”

Typical rockstar, expecting you to be at his beck and call…

…but you both know you’ll be there with bells on.

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things reader insert #female!reader #afab!reader

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musingmixtape · 9 months

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here’s a wishlist with a few plots based on guts by olivia rodrigo that i’d really really love to write! (you know the drill, ♡ or hmu if you want to plot any of them). all of them can be f/m or f/f (except for lacy, lacy is definitely sapphic):

get him back! “i wanna key his car, i wanna make him lunch, i wanna break his heart and then be the one to stitch it up”. gimme two muses who are absolutely obsessed with each other, they can go from love to hate so quickly it would give anyone else whiplash and they wouldn’t have it any other way. we can make them as crazy as we want to (i seriously mean this, please). muse b “won” the last break-up and now muse a is determined to get them back only to be the one who breaks their heart for the last time. but the game is harder than they think and it’s easy to forget the motive once they’re back together.

lacy. muse a is completely, irrevocably in love with her best friend, muse b. but of course, they won’t talk about it. gimme sapphic codependent doomed relationship where you’re not sure if you want to marry your bestie or just be her. gimme pining as they get ready to go out partying and sleepovers with wandering hands and the desperate desire to get someone’s approval but also the self-hate that comes with needing someone that much when they might not get it. it’s all so angsty and beautiful and intimate.

making the bed. “and i tell someone i love them just as a distraction, and they tell me that they love me like i’m some tourist attraction.” basically a self-sabotaging, heart-breaking plot where muse a and muse b thought they could get into a situationship and keep it casual, without developing real feelings but they obviously failed. i’m thinking it could’ve been a summer or winter love kind of thing that ended up terribly ‘cause they were being overly cautious with their emotions and ended up getting the other deeply hurt. we could begin once they meet again (on the next summer or winter break?) and the damage is already done.

all-american bitch. muse a is completely amazing at playing the “perfect girl” role, always smiling softly and saying the right thing even if it’s just a massive façade. deep inside, she’s full of anger and has a desire to seek revenge (for what, you may ask? idk, let's plot!). then comes muse b, who can see right through her act and is determined to bring out that honest, horrible and mean side of her.

bad idea, right? muse a and muse b broke up recently. it was the right decision, all their friends are happy about it, they were not good for each other. that doesn’t stop the constant texts asking each other to come over, the sneaking during parties for a quickie and the jealousy when they both start going on dates with other people. basically i’m dying for the bitter comments and the falling for each other and the “this is never going to happen again” promises that neither of them believe.

#── plots.

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marygodwin-bsd · 1 year

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Rating members of the Guild based on nothing but my own vibes (I haven't seen all of season 3)

there is a part 1 and 2 of this and ill probably make a part 4

Lucy M. Montgomery

10/10 for the fact once she showed up the show stopped treating kyouka like a possible ship for atsushi. 3/10 for the fact they gave her braces but when they needed her to be attractive they got rid of them ??? her design is 7/10, i like all her colors and shes very distinct, but she has the same issue as kunikida does with those big flyaway spikes that ernd up changing the entire hairstyle? just braids would have been fine. 9/10 for that incredibly cool but confusing power, also I just love her so much overall imma give her an 8/10

Nathaniel Hawthorne

im totally biased bc I liked the scarlett letter except for how much this man loved commas ANYWAYS this guys power is 10/10 freaking SICK I LOVE IT. 6/10 for the design its not bad but its very uhh .. monochromatic?? still cool and i get it might be because the red stands out but like give him one more red piece on his person. 10/10 for secretly being hoplessly in love with margaret?? I love it??? it reminds me so much of the book because of how hester and whatever his name was are super comfortable and sweet with one another in the forest and no one knows about them its peaceful and its fantastic ily nate overall 8/10 he seems like the kind of priest who would give free hugs at a pride parade

Margaret Mitchell

10/10 for the literal interpretation of Gone With The Wind but i wanna see her make a tornado. 10/10 for being in love with Hawthorne i love a secret romance. 7/10 for that accent in the english VA. 4/10 for seeming like shed be a little... a little phobic idk why i just get that vibe and this is about vibes love the fit 7/10 im just wondering how she can stand to possibly get her skirt wet 7/10 overall i just dont know enough about her to comment on anything else

John Steinbeck

8/10 for that power being cool but looking so viscerally gross. 7/10 for looking like Baldroy and Finny smashed together, 5/10 for that backstory bc i get it but dude youre going the wrong way. 9/10 for growing grapes for me <3. but 3/10 for putting the girls in danger cmon man be a gentleman overall 7/10

James L.

(I cannot find a Gif.) uh 6/10 for being there but then he dipped i didnt even know who this was

Mark Twain

GIMME MORE 5/10 for how i dont understand his ability at all did they just not know what to do and so they gave him his own tiny characters???? 8/10 because hes so cute but uh all the redheads in this show look related bc they are the Same Shade of RedHeaded cmon hony you know how to move a slider towards yellow just make his hair a little lighter. Theres not much about him and im not sure why hes a sniper 6/10 for not getting it, but hes cute! overall 7/10

H.P. Lovecraft

10/10 the best way they couldve represented him- honestly i was SO WORRIED bc you know you know what IRL lovecraft was like(0/10 for his racism) im just glad they didnt make him like his IRL counterpart instead they just made him like one of his own monsters 9/10! Fantastic idea! I like how just plain weird he is? he has no ability. hes just Like That. the guild just decided they wanted him. team pet. let him nap. 9/10 on that design, hes monochromatic but his hair and face and all that are distinct. oh also 10/10 because in that one fight he uh kunikida uh uh uh 9/10 overall really well done

Herman Melville

dont know much about him at this moment um 4/10 i hate his beard whats going on there uh 8/10 for the fact he and Moby Dick can talk to eachother and also have arguments apparently??? way to be one with thyself dude 6/10 because i know very little about him

Louisa May Alcott

baby 7/10 but i feel like shes lonely also how on earth does her ability have anything to do with Little Women?? is time slowing down like, a knock on the book? are they calling it slow?? i'll never know. 8/10 design i like it a lot i mean shes not super distinct but shes cute. overal 8/10

Edgar Allen Poe

POE!!!! i heard about poe before i watched the show uh 4/10 for how dirty they did him giving him a pet raccoon i love Karl but that is foul (RIP irl Poe rabies mustve sucked) 8/10 for his dynamic with rampo, though i havent gotten far enough to find true ship material beyond that one episode? 7/10 for the design its cool but a bit impractical and i feel like hes doing it for show but honestly its a stylistic choice overall 8/10 for his everything love him

F. Scott Fitzgerald

Money monehy money, must be funny, in a rich mans world 10/10 for how much he loves his wife i know irl FSG was a dbag to his so great improvement i also think its so funny that his power is Money like how did you learn that so 9/10 for that. 7/10 for that design i can get on board with most of it but his bangs look too much like kunikidas and what is that tie pattern??other than that hes fantastic. the backstory is sad and i wish he could save his daughter. 8/10 overall bc he still beat up atsushi

Part 1 here Part 2 here Part 4 here

#f scott fitzgerald bsd #lucy montgomery bsd #poe bsd #nathaniel hawthorne bsd #margaret mitchell bsd #john steinbeck bsd #louisa may alcott bsd #herman melville bsd #hp lovecraft bsd #mark twain bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #kunikida #atsushi nakajima #bsd

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lividmorris · 8 months

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For some general info here is all you really need!!

Their name is Gong Shu and they are a Sha Wujing/Sandy variant for a JTTW dnd campaign named Quest to the West!!

They are around 5’8 ft (idk what that is in centimeters off the top my head) and use He/She/They for their pronouns!!

And here is what they look like entirely as well!! I know it’s not the best too, I gotta refine it still ^^;

Feel free to ask any types of questions and I’ll get to as many as I can ^^ this will be open for an extended amount of time as well!!

There is a list of examples below of what to not ask as well so please look before submitting an ask!!

As for the companions besides the Master (played by another player) obviously there is Xin (belongs to Bear) who is the Sun Wukong variant and then Zhu Shen (belongs to Art) whom is the Zhu Bajie variant!!

Extended info about them is that yes they are fairly similar to Sha Wujing with a few differences which you can ask them!! I will be answering with doodles of them answering the questions 👍

You can submit either anonymously or with your user public that is up to you! Or even in the comments if you wish 🐒

DO NOT DO/ASK:

• Romantic Intentions (ex. I think your hot! Can you ___?)

I’m still a human behind the screen and though I’m answering in Gong Shu’s place comments/questions like that make me highly uncomfortable so it’s a big NO.

• NSFW Requests

Yes I’m an adult. No I will not be drawing NSFW of Gong Shu 👍

• Romantic or Platonic Pairings w/your Ocs

I think this is obvious but this is a character I’m playing as in a dnd campaign. It is highly unlikely unless your a player that he will run into your oc 😅

• Compare him with Sha Wujing/Sandy

Even though he is a variant of Sha Wujing/Sandy he is still his own entity! Yes there are similarities of course as he is heavily based on Sha Wujing howeverrr comparing the them is a bit hurtful. Especially after I have put much love and thought into this oc!!

CAN DO/ASK:

• How do you feel about X character?

I’m all for these types of questions!! Please try to state exactly which character you mean when asking this however!

All characters in JTTW can be asked about, if you are asking about Wukong he will answer about Xin, if about Zhu Bajie/Pigsy he will answer about Zhu Shen, and Tripitaka he will still answer about him however our monk is female so there are some differences in the design just a heads up 👍

• Silly Questions (ex: Can you do a handstand? What’s your favorite ___?”

YES YES!! Ask me things like this!!

• Backstory Questions

GIMME LET ME SHARE HIS LOREEEE

• Submit Multiple Questions?

Yes you can!! If anything I highly encourage it, as long as you aren’t repeatedly asking the same thing to get me to answer it ask as many things as you wish!!

#lmk #lego monkie kid #jttw #jttw sha wujing #jttw sandy #dnd oc #quest to the west dnd #dnd campaign #dnd #ask me questions #asks #gong shu asks #crimart #digital art

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futuresafe · 1 year

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I enjoy your Osiris thoughts, tell me what has changed about him that you're not vibing entire with pls

On one hand it's very obvious to me he's getting counseling. All the ways he's talking very much reminds me of mindfulness exercises I've gone through myself. And obviously that's a very private ordeal but it's also at the same time like. Gimme something to bite on, something to chew, even if it's one offhanded comment about it I would like confirmation that that's what it is.

Because otherwise This kind of reflection and mindfulness feels... I want to say inorganic. Mind you he woke up like what... 5 weeks ago? And he's made This sort of progress so quickly? I guess I wanted something more of a slow burn with his growth rather than a "oh shit I'm mortal and I've been a dick" kind of epiphany which also kind of paints his actions as far worse than they actually were.

Additionally the commentary about Ana not knowing Osiris trained under Felwinter was incredibly strange to me. It was well known that he trained under him. It was in the history books and everything. It's part of why he was even considered for being the Warlock Vanguard, so Ana being like "holy shit you knew him?" is like...? And why was he selfish for not telling her? It's not like they were particularly close and it's not like it was Imperative to his modus operandi. And again, it's not like any of them knew Who Felwinter was until just a few months before Osiris was, well, abducted.

It just feels like filler to explain to the audience, which Does, Unfortunately put Osiris into a weird position where it's like. These are things the in universe characters should know so talking about it from a perspective of where they DON'T for the sake of players who didn't play Worthy is like... There's better ways to give this kind of background than this? Idk it's felt strange to me.

See the thing is Osiris is a complex character. I will always vouch for his written lore because we get to see his complexity in it. There's layers to him and I like picking it apart. It's enriching for me to be able to go in and look for the double meaning of his words because there often is.

This season there isn't that lore for me to pick apart, there isn't that complexity. It feels like they've realized that the majority of the player base — sorry for my rudeness here — is dumb as shit and wouldn't know a complex character if it hit them in the head. So they've made him more digestible, they've taken some of his complexity away, which simply doesn't work for him.

#destiny spoilers #my posts #asks

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vacantgodling · 9 months

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oof okay. i didn’t think i would have to make a post talking about it but this may be my general blanket statement about it and hopefully i don’t need to make a hard and fast rule about this topic (for myself).

generally speaking, idgaf if minors follow me. i used to yeah—and i used to try and censor my blog and shit i posted because i knew i had, essentially, kids following me (why they were, no fucking idea but that’s the main reason i deleted my old blog and made this new one here because i was getting so stressed out about it) and i just didn’t want to be held responsible for “exposing them to shit” or something like that.

however. like. it’s my space, it’s my area, and i was (before) making myself miserable worrying about fucking children so i decided that i’m just not gonna do that anymore. and generally speaking, since making this blog i haven’t. when i was a teen, i followed and interacted with adults on the internet and i was fine. and i know i have some followers/mutuals/friends that i’ve known since they were younger and i didn’t feel weird about talking to them or anything. it’s good for kids to have outside adults to talk to etc etc but that’s not why i’m making this post.

basically, i’m making this post to say: if you are going to be a teenager/young adult (like 16-19) and you decide to follow me i need you to understand that i’m an adult, i talk about adult things (not just sex btw i mean just like. i’m for the exploration of dark topics in media and it will show up in my work occasionally) and that is your responsibility to navigate.

basically what i’m saying is, and bless this person’s heart. i just had a young teen/adult gimme a follow. and usually when people follow me, i do a quick scroll check to see what they post, if i want to follow back, etc etc. but the first post i saw on their blog was them rbing a very… shall we say young and on the internet opinion against a nuanced post that i personally rbed on my side blog myself without the take that this person rbed on it. just as a tldr the original post said basically “dark topics in media should exist and can be a tool to help people know what it looks like and identify it in real life so they can be able to navigate and stop this shit from happening irl.” like. a basic sentence and take (to me). this is obviously not saying you Have to go seek out media that makes you uncomfortable to read it if you don’t want to, but i’ve seen the notes on that post and i’ve seen and heard people talk about how having access to media that discussed their situation helped them themselves either come to grips with it, or to identify that it was happening or happened to them. it’s a nuanced take, and it’s one that i (personally) agree with.

yet the comment they rbed is the usual argument you see from someone who is not able to think about a situation broadly. the standard “oh well i’ve experienced csa before so i don’t need to see what it looks like” which again, tapping the sign, this is not for you then, and you don’t have to read books that explore those topics if you don’t want to. but the fact of the matter is: you aren’t going to know what everything looks like that is the breadth of the human experience—positive, or negative. shutting yourself off from potentially experiencing it via reading (a safe place) isn’t going to help you help anyone or have a complete understanding or opinion about it aside from this knee jerk reaction which is the antithesis of the post. and when all you (the person i’ve blocked btw. idk if it’s hard or soft and i don’t care really) have to add to this conversation via tags is “oh op probably made this post to justify jerking it to mha porn” then i need you to understand you are too young to be following me.

i trust people to make their own decisions. but i don’t really understand when people follow me and then have opinions like this. (hell there’s a lot of people who follow me where i don’t understand Why because it doesn’t seem like what i write would be in their wheelhouse but i can’t and won’t police people from reading my shit if they want to) however when i see stuff like this especially coming from a youngin’ i just don’t want to deal with that. because i know one day i will probably post or talk about something nuanced and i don’t want to invite a potential “callout” or “cancel culture” or freak out in my notes or argument in my inbox i’m just not doing it.

so at this time i’m not making a rule that i don’t want minors/youngins following me, again, i don’t care, but if you are going to like please please please actually understand when you don’t need to be following an adult with opinions that make you uncomfortable for your own sake.

#psa #about renjamin

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michelleelizabethtanner · 1 year

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Related to your psychology of Brio post - why do you think so many fans put Rio on a pedestal? Seems like a lot of fans across the spectrum ignore his humanity (and villainize Beth for doing the same thing). What is it about that guy that makes people so rabid? Gimme your headcanon

Ahhhh, Anon, you’re here with the difficult questions. 😂😂😂 First of all, I appreciate that you liked my Brio Psychoanalysis enough to have a follow-up. So thank you for that! I always feel absolutely insane with the amount of thought I’ve given these characters. It’s gotta be unhealthy!

So, I haven’t really seen a whole ton of opinions from people who I know and can comment on with any amount of reliability. The majority of people I interact with have not vilified either character. Do you not like Rio, Anon? It’s fine if you don’t. He and Beth are both flawed characters so I can get behind criticisms of both of them. But if you were to twist my arm as far as the whys…

Rio is a charming character. He’s a handsome, charismatic man with power. He appeals to many demographics. He’s just the love interest we all want, isn’t he? He’s a trope. Perfectly imperfect. Obsessed with his love interest and willing to forgive her the greatest faults. A man of honor who lives by a personal code. Someone who can be both ruthless (in just the right ways and with just the right people), and unbearably soft (in just the right ways and with just the right people.) He’s intense and reclusive, but can’t seem to stay away from ✨his one true love✨. He’s a patient teacher, a loyal supporter, a generous and skillful lover (we are led to believe.) He’s a fantasy.

Beth, on the other hand, is not made for universal demographics. The show’s target audience is supposed to be able to relate to her and aspire to her. She’s a different kind of fantasy than Rio is. So much about her was made to represent “what women are or want to become.” But Beth also is blind in so many ways. She doesn’t see so much of her own power and privilege. So for demographics who don’t see themselves as a Beth, who don’t live the life she does, who were kind of left out if the show’s target audience, it’s likely difficult to muster up empathy for her when she places herself into her own difficult situations the majority of the time. And then she decides that her life is unfair and that Rio has to pay for it. And he keeps on pandering to her. Over and over, despite it all. Yes, he is also a flawed character, but the disproportion between what he offers her and what she offers him is pretty glaring.

I personally forgive them both all flaws. Because I love them and they’re my babies. I feel like the show gave us enough crumbs of backstory and characterization to infer their trauma and understand why they are the way they are. I love them for their trauma. Idk what that makes me. Some sort of weird voyeur who likes to dissect people’s emotions and get inside their brains. (Which I do 🤷‍♀️ I know my flaws.) I put them both on a pedestal. There’s so much potential to them and so much they can learn about themselves and each other.

#brio psychoanalysis #they’re both a fantasy #just not everyone’s fantasy #good girls nbc #brio #asks

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itsdannysworld · 1 year

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Southern Heat

i wrote this two months ago while stoned out of my mind soooooooo haha have fun reading :) (tbh its just a rough draft, i promise not all of these will be shitty)

summary; you and jake have a wholesome friends to lovers moment content warnings: a lil alcohol use but not too much. just a tiny lil bit. cursing? idk idk is that an important cw? oh yeah a kiss or two

Hey y/n, when are you gonna get here? Nashvilles boring without our sunshine

You picked up your phone after hearing it buzz, the message being from Josh. Your best friend who happens to be a famous singer for a famous band that is currently touring. You’ve known him and his brothers (including Danny) ever since they made the big move to Nashville. It all started at a small coffee shop around the corner from your apartment. You had just set down all your stuff after picking up your order from the counter, when the group came in. They just had a vibe about them, one that you were intoxicated by. You watched them on and off as they bought their respective drinks and settled into one of the big couches. Before you knew what you were doing you shut your laptop and walked over to them, it was a rare moment of confidence but once they realized you were coming over to them you knew you couldn’t turn back. “I just wanted to say y’all have cool vibes, and nice peace sign necklace, I have one just like it.” You said pointing to who you now know as Danny. “Well thank you for the wonderful compliment of our vibes!” The one with the curly hair said dramatically, just before the one with dark hair could respond. His smile was infectious, something that could easily light up a room. “You are very welcome!” You said with an equally dramatic tone. Turning to walk away you hear a “Hey, wait! You should come sit with us, we’re not too familiar with the city.” The one with long hair said. He looked almost identical to the one with curly hair. “Oh uh, sure! Gimme a sec,” you went to grab your things, quickly running through every possible scenario of what could happen in your head. What’s the worst that could happen? Making that decision to sit with them was the best decision you had made in awhile, you all became fast friends and you were more than happy to support them in their musical endeavors. You got especially close with Josh and spent most of your time with him, you started to consider him your platonic soulmate. However, being close with him allowed him to find out a huge secret of yours, that you liked his brother. “No fucking way, you like Sam?” He said drunkenly. We went through a whole bottle of wine and he was obviously feeling it. “No dingus, I like Jake.” You blushed putting your hands to your face. The shock on his face freaked you out, but the shock was quickly replaced with one of his signature smiles. “You need to tell him! He’s been crushing on you since forever. It’s getting annoying for everyone to deal with.” You rolled your eyes at the comment. “I don’t believe you, at all.” “Too bad, guess you’ll never have Jakey boy”

You read Josh’s text and quickly responded telling him you’d be over in a minute. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were practically shitting yourself at the thought of seeing Jake. You quickly finished putting all of your jewelry on and saying goodbye to Bonnie, the small dog you had rescued from the shelter last July. Jake was there with you, and it was the last time you had seen him in person. Y’all tried to keep in touch but between his touring schedule and your work schedule, you haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. You walked out the door and quickly started up your car, heading towards their house. You plugged your phone into the aux cable and shuffled your playlist, a mix of Orville Peck and Arctic Monkeys playing through your speakers. You tried to mentally prepare yourself to see them, but seeing as the drive to their house from your apartment was 10 minutes, you didn’t have enough time to get rid of all the anxiety that plagued you. You pulled into their driveway and instantly all of the memories y’all had shared together came flooding back. Danny driving you home from a drunken night at their house, Josh and you having deep talks on the porch at 1am, Sam and you hotboxing your car, and finally Jake and you going to the store to buy god knows what. You were blasting music and had all the windows down, the thick southern heat swarming around you. That night was when you knew deep down that you were in love with him. You got out of the car and knocked on the door, excited yet nervous to see everyone behind it. “Y/n! It’s so good to see you.” Josh wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and swinging you around a little. “I missed you too Josh” You said with a laugh. You walked further in the house and quickly hugged everyone. Their hugs were top-tier, something you definitely missed when they went on tour. It was finally Jake’s turn to hug you, and it was the warmest one of them all. “I missed you y/n, I’m sorry for not texting you more.” “I missed you too Jake, and truly don’t worry about it, I understand your busy rockstar schedule.” You said as you roll your eyes, faking annoyance. “You know, if I had the chance to talk to you all day while I was on tour, I would’ve taken it.” What he said took you by surprise, was he trying to be romantic or was it fully platonic? You struggled to find words, but finally landed on “I would have come if you had asked.” Finally you looked around the two of you, realizing that everyone has migrated to the kitchen. He must’ve noticed too as he motioned for you to go in front of him towards everyone. When you walked into the kitchen everyone was standing around the island talking. There were a couple more people there, mainly friends with some family mixed in. You went with Jake towards the fridge knowing they would probably have some cheap beer, you weren’t in the mood for anything stronger. “So, how’s it been while touring?” You said as he handed you beer. “It’s been good, it’s kind of weird coming back and not having much to do. It’s good seeing everyone here though, I missed being around people that aren’t my brothers or the crew.” You nodded. While he was talking y’all had ended up sitting on the porch. He started to share stories about the tour, most of which seemed unbelievable. After talking for a few hours (and many drinks later) the conversation had taken a turn towards relationships. “There’s no way you didn’t find anyone while on tour? You went all over the world! Plus you’re a rockstar, so it’s probably easy for you to get a girl.” “Nope, didn’t want any of them. Don’t get me wrong, there were many girls that wanted me, but none caught my eye” He said with a cocky grin. “You seeing anyone?” You shook your head no. You didn’t want to see anyone unless they were him, but there was no way that was going to happen. “Why not?” “None caught my eye I guess.” You said repeating what he said earlier. “I guess there is one person who I kind of think is cool. In a relationship way.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before thinking about them. You had many worries about how this could play out, but alcohol is considered liquid courage for a reason. “Really? Well now you gotta tell me.” You froze, you knew he was going to ask it, but the small amount of confidence you had faded quickly, and you suddenly realized the full consequences that could come with this. He may never want to be friends again. He may feel the same. Our friendship may be awkward because of this. Will I lose everyone if he rejects me? “Well don’t pussy out on me now Y/n” He said with a laugh. “Nevermind, they don’t matter.” “You don’t get to back out that easily. Tell me who it is?” The s in “is” was drawn out. You shook your head. “C’mon y/n! You can’t just not tell me now. I’ll tell you who I like!” “Deal, but close your eyes.” He looked at you weird but then agreed, shutting his eyes. “I’m so sorry if I ruin things by doing this.” You said as you leaned in and gently pecked his lips. His eyes shot open and you immediately push yourself back, saying as many apologies as you could. He pulled you back in and gave you a much more passionate kiss, one that was much needed. Your worries faded away. When y’all finally separated you heard whoops and hollers from the kitchen. Your face flushed pink but despite the audience you went back for one more kiss.

I’m glad I didn’t pussy out

#jakegvf #joshgvf #dannygvf #samgvf #greta van fleet fic #fanfic #firstpost #greta van fleet

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