#edge banding solution

[e3groupproducts]

Types of Edge Bands Materials and Their Uses

Furniture edge banding tape is a small detail that has a significant impact on the complex world of furniture design and finishing. The significance of edge banding tape is increased when it is included in design elements. It goes well beyond appearances to include strength, use, and the overall design of the furniture piece. Even though it may seem insignificant, a product’s edge width has a significant impact on its overall performance, utility, and appearance. Width is about function, design, and purpose in addition to size.

No Furniture Life Without these Miracle Tapes

A piece of furniture’s finishing touches is what gives it an edge. The edge band highlights the beauty of the furniture and provides more than just protection at the intersection of durability and design. Through careful matching of the edging with different laminates, converts the bare edges into artistically pleasing works of art. The end effect is a tasteful combination that enhances the furniture’s overall design and makes it stand out for both its elegant and utilitarian design. Furthermore, smooth-finished MDF, HDMR, and Pre-laminated boards guarantee a perfect finish while enhancing this elegance even more, ensuring that the edge band does not come out of its fixed position.

Utilitarian Value

Apart from its aesthetic value and perfect match, furniture’s primary purpose is to be of proper use to its owner. No matter how exquisite, a piece of furniture loses its attractiveness if it is not applicable. In addition to ensuring the user’s safety, the edge band makes sure that surfaces stay level, doors close flawlessly, and drawers glide smoothly. It makes all the difference between a piece of furniture that is only attractive to look at and one that fits in well with everyday activities.

Sturdiness & Protection

A key component of protecting furniture from regular wear and tear is using furniture edge banding tapes as you are already aware that furniture’s rough edges are frequently more prone to deterioration and moisture infiltration. Edge banding tapes improve longevity and resilience against deterioration, particularly in materials like MDF. This treatment helps keep the furniture sturdy and preserves its shape and function for many years to come by fending off chipping, peeling, and even swelling with time.

Now comes the most critical question in our mind: what are my options? What material are the edge tapes composed of? Let us focus on some popular materials available in the market provided by edge band tape manufacturers.

Let us begin with the most popular edge band material made by edge band tape manufacturers of India.

PVC Edge Band – The most common material used in edge bands is PVC. It is long-lasting, strong, and reasonably priced. There is no need for a finishing procedure. It’s also simple to fix. They are flexible and come in varied colors, textures and are easily customisable. The material used to make PVC edgebands is Polyvinyl Chloride, or PVC, an artificial thermoplastic polymer. PVC resin, colorants, and additives are combined throughout the production process to produce a flexible material that can be used for edgebanding. PVC edge band manufacturers guarantee to find a perfect match for your desired laminate. Explore through the E3 Edge Band collection to know more.

Veneer Edge Bands: More traditional and natural edge bands, veneer edge banding captures the essence of actual wood. For those who would like a more organic appearance than ornamental edgebands, they are made from genuine wood veneers. Price-wise, they may be more expensive. These Veneer edge band manufacturers make veneer tapes to give furniture pieces a seamless appearance while still giving them the appearance of solid wood.

ABS Edge bands: ABS edge banding ensures furniture protection against unintentional knocks and collisions by offering strength, durability, and high impact resistance. With matching ABS Edgebands from E3 Edge Band manufacturing company in India, you can eliminate the ugly joints that are sometimes visible with laminates. It is thin, light, and highly durable thermoplastic. It strengthens the smooth appearance and feel of high-quality laminated surfaces while safeguarding the edges. It will maintain its beauty for a very long time and is highly resistant to impact, scratches, UV radiation, and daily wear and tear.

Acrylic edge bands: Available in an extensive array of colors and designs, such as wood and metallic provided by Acrylic edge band manufacturing company. With a dash of modern sheen, you can mimic the appearance of high-end materials like granite and solid wood without having to deal with their high cost, heavy weight, or time-consuming maintenance. Additionally, acrylic edge banding has an ultra-glossy appearance. When combined with acrylic boards, you can achieve and create almost any style for the perfect surface. Explore through the E3 Edge Band collection to know more.

uPVC Edge Bands: For the more environmentally conscious, the uPVC edge band manufacturers like E3 Edge Bands provide the best solution. They are lead-free, made using no harsh chemicals, recyclable, and have antimicrobial, antibacterial, and DOP properties. They are highly valued by carpenters, contractors, and furniture makers who are always on the lookout for eco-friendly products.

What is the ideal material for edge banding? Well, that depends on where it is used. PVC is a good material for furniture that will be exposed to moisture. Wood veneer edge bands are an option if you want a natural appearance. Fluted ABS, Acrylic, and Soft Touchor uPVC edgebands are the way to go for furniture that needs a contemporary, safe, 100% match, and fashionable appearance.

From the house of E3, the edgebands proudly manufactured in India satisfy all of your needs and preferences with premium quality and dependability.

To conclude with, the options available in the market are many. We must appropriately select edge bands according to our needs, match, and what suits our pocket. However, you should be aware that there are still decisions to be made when weighing your edge banding selections. Those decisions may seem overwhelming. To make sure you choose the best edge banding solution for your project, E3 Edge Band professionals can guide you through your alternatives. We intend to assist you in comprehending the procedure and to instill confidence in you by demonstrating that our edge band tapes are created with years of manufacturing experience, research, and field-tested performance in mind.

Source Url:- https://e3groupindia.com/types-of-edge-bands-materials-and-their-uses/

[e3acp]

Superior Materials for Tall Buildings: The Key to Unmatched Durability

Tall buildings demand superior materials to withstand harsh conditions. Find top-quality materials for your construction needs and build with confidence, ensuring your structure stands the test of time.

Visit us:- https://e3acp.com/

[natti-ice]

— just a stranger.

18+ mdni

pairing: male character x fem!reader

cw: p in v, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of alcohol

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

The smell of smoke and hand soap lingers in the air around you as your mouth clashes with his, the loud bass from the live band vibrates the small bathroom stall, you can’t help but moan as his tongue slides against yours. You don’t normally hook up with strangers at bars but there was something so captivating about this man you couldn’t deny his invitation to the bathroom, the taste of whiskey off his lips sends a flood down to your core- desperate for friction you reach down and unbuckle his belt as fast as possible.

He takes the hint and takes over, unbuttoning his jeans and pulls them down along with his boxers. You gasp softly against his mouth as you feel your dress being yanked above your waist, his fingers make their way into the band of your soaked panties. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his finger tips gently graze your swollen clit “Jesus, sweetheart, you’re already wet” his husky, lust filled voice scratches something in your brain. The horny daze you’re in takes over your body, you don’t think about your next move you just let your body take control.

You reach down and grab a hold of his cock and gently stroke it while looking deep into his eyes, without breaking eye contact he pushes your panties down to your knees and moves you against the cold metal stall door. He steps right in front of you and brings his cock between your legs, your legs tremble as the tip glides up and down your puffy lips. He pulls your legs apart more and you grab a hold of the toilet paper holder for balance, the head of his dick slow presses into your entrance asking for permission. You nod quickly giving him the okay, you couldn’t help but feel so needy right now. The ache between your legs could only be fixed by one solution and that solution was this stranger’s big cock.

You cover your mouth immediately as he pushes further into you until he bottoms out, you bite your tongue hard to fight back the moan of pure ecstasy that’s lodged in your throat. His pleasured groans meet your ears as he starts to pump into you, his hand slams against the door that holds you up to balance himself, your free hand snakes behind him and grips his ass. Soft swears are muttered against your neck as his hot lips place gentle kisses against your sensitive skin. Your body tenses immediately as you hear the bathroom door open and a few people come stumbling in, your brain tells you to push the guy away but you’re so lost in pleasure that you don’t move.

He pulls away from your neck for a moment and you look up at him to see a wicked grin slapped across his face, his pace doesn’t slow down as he reaches up and grabs your wrist to pull away your hand that’s clamped over your mouth. He whispers to you “don’t hold back sweetheart, let the whole bar hear what a good girl you are.” His voice was pure sex and you couldn’t help but listen to his demand, you let out the moans, allowing yourself to enjoy this very hot situation. You could hear laughing coming from outside the stall but you didn’t care, the orgasm you were chasing was too tempting to pass up.

Your back arches as a loud grunt leaves his perfect mouth, your pussy clenches around him as you go over the edge, you don’t hold anything back as you cum- letting all the swears fill the small space around you. His amused chuckle is followed by a shuttered groan as you feel him spill into your body, he collapses against you, panting softly as the both of you catch your breath. After a few moments past the haze starts to clear, you feel his breath against your ear, there’s a gentleness to his words as he says, “best pussy of my life.”

For some reason you believed him, you’ve only know him for a few hours but something about the way he said it makes you truly believe that you’re the best he’s ever had.

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Hearts in Sync, Tires on Track

I'm sorry I have hit the deleted button 😢 and so I have to repost this one. This was based on a request of a reader @pear-1206, so sorry that your request message was also being deleted.

But yeah, here it is. Hope that you guys will enjoy reading it as much as I did. Also, if you have any requests please feel free to hit my dm, I appreciate it very much. If not then send me some of your love and support through that reblog and like button. Love ya alllll!  🫶🏻

Toto Wolff's wife and son, Y/n and Jack were in the garage, watching the race with bated breath. The atmosphere was tense, as nothing seemed to be working for George and Lewis. Toto's wife watched her husband's face, noticing the way his jaw was clenched, the deep furrow between his brows. She knew how much he was struggling, trying to figure out a way to turn things around for the team. Her heart ached for him, wanting nothing more than to ease his worries.

As the race continued, the tension in the garage grew thicker. She and Jack glued to his side, watching him anxiously. Toto's eyes flicked back and forth between the monitors, his fingers flying across his laptop as he tried to find a solution, anything that could help the team's chances. Toto's mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and strategies. His eyes scanned the monitors, searching for any glimpse of improvement from his drivers. As he pondered the various scenarios, his hand subconsciously went to his own wedding band, his fingers toying with it gently. Meanwhile, in the garage, Y/n sat with Jack, trying to keep a brave face despite her worry. She was struggling to keep her own anxiety in check, her mind constantly going back to her husband. Every now and then, she found herself twisting her wedding band around her finger, a silent prayer for his wellbeing.

The race was over, but the results had not been what he had hoped for. His heart was heavy with disappointment, and his mind raced with thoughts of what he could have done differently. Suddenly, there was a soft knock on his door, and he looked up to see his wife standing in the doorway. Her face was filled with concern, her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and love.

Toto's heart skipped a beat as he saw her. In that moment, all his worries and stress seemed to melt away, at least for a moment. He held out his hand, a silent invitation for her to come closer. She walked over to him, taking his hand and sitting down on the edge of his desk. For a moment, they were silent, simply taking comfort in each other's presence. Finally, Toto broke the silence. "It didn't go well," he said quietly, his voice low and strained.

Y/n nodded, her fingers gently rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. "I know," she murmured softly. "But you did everything you could. You always do." Toto let out a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping. "It wasn't enough," he replied. "I should have done more, I should have thought of something..." His wife reached up, gently cupping his face in her hands. "Stop," she said firmly. "You shouldn't blame yourself. You work too hard, you worry too much. You need to let go sometimes." Toto looked up at her, his expression a mix of exhaustion and guilt. "I can't," he said quietly. "I'm responsible for this team, for everyone who is now working at Brackley also. If I don't worry, who will?"

His wife chuckled softly, her thumbs stroking his cheeks fondly. "That's exactly what I mean," she said with a smile. "You're too dedicated, too determined. You forget to take care of yourself." Toto let out a huff of breath, his lips twitching into a small smile. "And who's going to take care of me, hm?" he teased, a hint of the old spark returning to his eyes.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, an amused grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Who do you think? Me," she replied, her tone playful. "Someone has to keep you from working yourself into the ground." Toto chuckled, the sound low and heartfelt. "You did a good job of it," he admitted.

As they were all laughing at his words, Toto's door creaked open, and they both looked up to see their son, Jack, standing in the doorway. The young boy's face was pinched with worry, his eyes taking in the sombre atmosphere of the room. "Papa?" he asked tentatively, his small voice breaking the silence. Toto's heart clenched at the sight of his son. "Hey, buddy," he said, mustering a smile. "Come here."

Jack hesitantly stepped into the room, his eyes flicking between his parents. Toto reached out a hand, gesturing for him to come closer. "Don't worry, everything's alright," Toto said, trying to keep his voice steady for his son's sake. "Just having a bit of a tough day, that's all." Jack slowly made his way over to them, stopping beside his father. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "We'll figure things out," he assured him, his voice gentle.

Y/n nodded in agreement, her fingers once again toying with her wedding band. "Papa's right," she said firmly. "We always figure things out. We're a team, remember?" Jack looked up at his dad, his eyes wide. "Us?" he asked, his voice small. Toto chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. "Yeah, me, mama and you. We've been a team for a long time, haven't we?"

Jack seemed to accept this, his expression relaxing slightly. He leaned into his mother's side, resting his head against her shoulder. For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of everything that had happened that day hanging heavily in the air. Toto could feel the presence of his family, their love and support grounding him, reminding him that he wasn't alone.

[heartfullofleeches]

Moonlight Waves

Yan Alien Human Guy Person + Jellyfish Hybrid Reader 

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None, pure fluff

“If you put some thought into it…The ocean and space have a lot in common.” 

Vast, boundless frontiers- Depths and reach never to be fully unveiled to the eyes of man. All imposing surfaces blanketing both heaven and earth. Two opposing bodies that on nights just like this might align, conjoined by midnight and the luminous orb mirrored upon them both. The full moon was a blessed companion for those who found themselves alone on eves similar to this- Solace and guidance found in her radiance. 

“Whelp- Guess it's time to throw myself.”

Wiser folk have said desperate times call for desperate measures- While there were lesser extremes he could have gone to, this seemed like the quickest solution to their predicament. Twenty-four years on this planet and they had still yet to conquer the strenuous feat that was learning how to swim. His mothers were gentle in their upbringing- Apparently too gentle as they never pressured their child into braving the horrors of the swimming pool. On one hand, the biggest factor to their child's fear may have been the fact that it was their neighbor’s pool - and it'd be quite difficult to explain the eerie glow to their toddler's tears and the stains they left on clothing. 

They were fine with it early on, but as he grew - Alien realized how much he was missing out on being unable to swim. Most humans know how to swim by their age anyway which would give less credit to his claims of an earth born and raised member of the population….Which they were regardless of whether or not they knew how to swim.

Alien squares his shoulders, testing the binds of  numerous weights anchoring various parts of their body. Unsatisfied with the distribution, he plucks a stone from the moist sand surrounding his legs - unfastening the velcro of their right breast pocket and adding it to the collection. A horde of trinkets ranging from shells to stones to a couple marbles crowded each pocket from the vest they wore down to the swimming trunks they purchased for the occasion. So what if his body was more buoyant than the average human being- requiring additional weight to avoid floating off into the endless sea. Alien had always been a scrawny person-

“That should be enough- Wait…Is that?” 

Srounging for more space to stuff the final stone, a gentle glow envelopes their fingertips following a faint- snap! Alien pushes the rocks and shells aside, wrestling the shining band from beneath them with minimal effort. 

*Jackpot! I thought I used all of these already. With this baby on, I'm definitely ready for this. Wish me luck up here!”

Alien gazes up at the moon as they slip the glow-stick bracelet onto their arm. It's the last thing they see as their legs carry the rest of them towards the end of the cliff. Had it not been a full moon or the sky so clear- tonight may have gone different for them. They could've swallowed their pride, and went to bed with intentions to sign up for the nearest swim class come morning. Realistically, Alien knew he'd never go through with that plan, but it was nice in theory. Safer too-

Head lost in the cloudless sky, Alien yelps as the ground is swept from beneath them - their screams swiftly snuffed by gallons of water as they're dragged into a plummet off the cliff's edge. Their body connects with the sea, pockets of air bubbling to the surface from the force at which they collide. The oxygen escaping him would have been alarming - had they any need for it. Whether they could hold their breath or their biology simply skipped the stage where their lungs depended on air was a secret they'd take to the grave. 

Sinking fast, Alien realizes what some might call a flaw in their ingenious plan. 

Perhaps, just maybe, they potentially added too much weight for them to claw their way back to the surface.

…

Ah well. 

Since they're already down here, there's no harm in exploring. Hard to see much beyond the gleam of their jewelry dangling freely around their wrist, but they dig the vibe of it all - drifting weightlessly without aim or reason. The deeper they dove, the brighter the natural fluorescence of their skeleton bled through their skin. Alien had heard of a condition that made people's skin slightly yellow before. Surely the green glow of their bones had to be in the same family. The shine widens their range of sight. By now, it was hard to decipher which way they were facing. The moon had long since faded from view….

Oh, wait. There it is..

….

Is it?

Stranging their eyes through the blackened depths of the ocean, Alien can clearly make something out miles away from them - shrouded by a halo of light. It almost mimics their guideless descent - floating off course before gradually aligning itself in a mostly linear ascent towards them. That alone was enough evidence whatever they were looking at was not the moon. The fluctuation of its surface and the four, almost crescent shaped markings atop only served as further proof. Inch by inch, as the space between them grew narrow, Alien could make out more of its features. Flowing tendrils, a pair of arms floating freely at its sides, a face adorned with a dopey smile. 

Face to face, the near angelic like figure raises one of its hands - waving its fingers at the unfamiliar face within its territory. Alien’s eyes tighten from the phosphorescence of the creature's skin. Ignoring the sting, Alien lifts his own hand, mirroring the entity’s motions. The corners of its smile peak higher upon its face, head following the dim glow of their bracelet. The lightly draws focus to the stones bulging from his pockets. The creature's grin falters into tight lipped confusion.

“Hey…Hey!” 

Alien struggles to make a sound as its hands paw at the straps of their pockets. Successfully tearing the sleeve open, the creature yanks out every rock, every shell- It pauses briefly to marvel at the eye of the marbles in Alien's pocket before shoving them beneath the cap of their head as they continue. Depleting their vest of its contents was all it took to send Alien on their upwards rise towards the surface. The angel waves again before swimming its way to the top, gliding gracefully as a true angel would through the sky. It grabs onto Alien's wrist, tugging him along with them as he apparently took too long for their liking.

Alien could only watch on in awe as the darkness peeled away - moonlight adding on to the ethereal, otherworldly glimmer that was this being and its flesh. Could this be Alien's first encounter with an extraterrestrial? There was no possible way a creature of this radiance was from earth. They just couldn't be-

The creature releases their hold on Alien's wrist as they breach air. Alien finds himself searching for their touch, and another item he appeared to be missing. The angel, the only term Alien found fit for them, wandered towards the shore without him- back facing the sand as they spun a glowing band around their finger. Alien channels the knowledge of every training video they viewed before their trip as they doggy paddle in the general direction of the shore. Thankfully, there was still enough weight in their shorts to keep them perfectly balanced between drifting off and going under. 

The energy is depleted from their very soul by the time they reach their destination. The angel sits with its lower half still bathed by the oncoming tide, rolling a marble through the crystalized sand. It throws its arm into the air as Alien appears.

The angel waves. Alien, running on fumes and the strange heartache that would come from not reciprocating their kind gesture- waves back.

The angel helps Alien sit upright, returning the marbles they had borrowed back into the land dweller’s pocket from which they can. Alien fishes out of the marble they saw the angel toy with and gives it back to them.

“Keep that one… So-  you got a name?” 

The angel’s mouth falls open in a “O” of both surprise and honor at the present. They brush the sand smooth before rolling the marble through it once more. Inspecting their craft, Alien can make out letters the further along the angel continues.

“Y/n? That's your name?”

You clap your hands in praise, sound and ferocity increased by the wetness of your palms. Cute. 

“You, uh, come here often?”

The point of your finger towards the water states the obvious fact that you live here. A murmur akin to laughter slips past your lips at that one. 

“You got me there… The sea’s pretty big, though. What I'm asking is can I see you again?”

You tap a finger to your chin in thought, head dipping towards the bracelet now hanging from your own wrist. You point to it, hope and wonder present in your grin. 

“You like the bracelet? You can keep that too. I can bring you more if that's what you're asking.”

Clapping again, you latch onto Alien's side - merging your fingers with theirs as you hold them both to the sky. Moonlight pours through your skin and theirs, transparency muddled by the existence of their bones. Your head falls to their chest- a whisper so quiet they almost missed it. 

“Like me…” 

They're glad that they didn't. 

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 8

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

The seat you've picked for their second practise runthrough is one of the best in the house, you think quietly as the music kicks in. 

The one that you'd picked for the first practise was middling, upon review, too far back to really appreciate every silly antic on stage, and the seat you'll be hiding in on the night of the show won't be anything as special as front row, but this one...this one is good. Front and centre, no one in the seats in front of you and not so close that you have to crick your neck to look up at Changbin waving to you as he wanders along the edge of the stage - but still close enough to spot that smile and the amusement that glimmers in his eyes as he passes. 

It's nice to see the show from a place like this just once, even if the choreography isn't all out and the boys wander about rather than playing up the energy for the crowd, when there will be so much time for that tomorrow. It's even better to observe how they work in an environment you've never experienced despite so many years as a trainee.

Not that you will experience any of this yet, not really. You're not sure if the way your gut clenches is out of disappointment or relief. You've waited to headline a concert like this your entire life, but to have to start your career here, instead of something smaller like the TV stages...

The start of God's Menu blares through the small arena, every beat a gut-punch with the volume of the speakers. Your feet move with the music, dragging you up out of your seat and into the clear space of the aisle nearby. For once, the choreography feels easy; whether it is because Lee Know isn't watching your back like a hawk, or because you stop for a moment whenever you run out of room, or because the way Chan points at you and smiles makes your heart rise in your chest...

Easy plays next, subtler in sound and much sharper in movement, each move sliding seamlessly from smooth to snapping and back again. You don't dance that one half as well, you're sure - just keeping up isn't good enough, when they are so perfectly in sync, so absolutely sure of themselves after just a week of practising.

You sit down again after that one, face flushed and chest rising and falling rapidly. At least you've gotten in some practise for today.

They go for a full three hours, just like they will tomorrow. Just like it's another day for them, like it hasn't taken weeks of planning and choreography and a whole team of people to put together - and for them, you suppose, it hasn't. It's been kind of scary, actually, how easy it's been for them to come into practise and pick up choreography for one song or another, clean and go. It's taken you so long just to prepare one and a half songs; even as a trainee, you couldn't imagine being that confident after just one day.

The practise ends with an imaginary fanfare, the boys cheering themselves on through microphones before scattering to all  corners of the stage so that the band can adjust what they want to. You wander up to the stage in no real hurry, just as you had at the end of the session yesterday, hoisting yourself up onto its eddge between two lights and climbing to your feet, turning to look out at the empty auditorium.

You'd never admit it, but the sight takes your breath away. The stretch of the seats, climbing up the walls into the shadows, the shine of the lights in your eyes - and this is only a small venue. Dones and arenas stretch even further into the distance, the sea of lights infinite - if you couldn't even stand on this stage and imagine it full-

"No audience members on stage, please," Minho says behind you, wandering his way across the stage with Han trailing in his wake. "Where's security?"

He's so straightfaced that for a moment, even though you know he's joking, you wonder if he's being serious. In the next moment, Han cracks a laugh, his elbow catching MInho in his side. "What?" he says like he can't believe what he's hearing.

"What?" Minho replies, his lips curving into a smile.

"Don't be mean," Han whines, though the effect is lost in the laugh that bubbles from his mouth. It's the most relaxed you've seen him since your first week, when Felix had leaned over and said he's just shy.

"Don't worry," you say kindly, trying your best to tread carefully in this new terrain. "He does this to me all the time now."

"Ah, you know how it is then," Han sighs in agreement.

"Do you like the stage?" Minho asks, if only to draw the conversation away from his bad habits.

You nod, your eyes turning outwards again. "It's big," you comment, scanning row upon row of empty seats, all the way to the back wall. "I've never actually been on a stage in a venue like this."

Minho looks out too, eyes searching the place while he thinks of something clever to say. "It's okay," he says lightly after a moment, the tone of his voice clearly giving away that he is playing with you. "It's not that big."

"Okay, sure," you snort, and then you catch the funny, surprised look Han gives you and remember that you're still a junior here. You've begun to forget, with some of them, that they are afforded due respect as seniors, the chasm between you starting to feel smaller...but not Han, yet. Not Seungmin, or Hyunjin, or sometimes even Chan, despite how friendly he tries to be.

"Wait until award season," Minho says, patting you on the shoulder. "If we perform at those shows..."

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of it - packed arenas, audiences of other idols, international broadcasts with all kinds of eyes on them. And you weren't even playing this stage-

Sixteen weeks. And another sixteen to award season, the year over in the blink of an eye. You know by now how quickly time could disappear if you weren't careful, how six months could whittle to three and then none in the blink of an eye.

"Don't scare her, Lee Know," Chan says, pausing on his way past. A mic dangles from his hand too, flipping back and forth idly in a way that catches your eye simply for how close it seems to come each time to being dropped.

"Why would I do that?" Minho replies innocently, stepping casually out of their leader's reach. Clever, really, when he shifts just a moment before Chan can throw an arm around his shoulders to match the silly grin that's dawning on his face. "I just spent all of this time making her dance."

"Because you would," Chan says, in a voice that gets more indulgent with every syllable. "Evil rabbit."

Minho makes a noise of disgust and shuffles away two steps, nose scrunched in distaste. Across the stage, the band picks up the thread of Slump, somewhere in the verse. The lyrics spring to mind several bars later, your mind automatically catching up to them.

"Everyone's gonna be watching," Han sings casually, mic dangling by his side and his head swivelling to track the movement of the others across the stage. "I gotta show them all of me." His voice is lovely, steady and clear as a bell even at the end of their runthrough. Without a mic, he is still loud enough to be heard across the room; from several feet away, Felix lets out a loud whoop, hand up in the air as he laughs at himself.

Minho picks up where Han leaves off, pulling a face as he reaches up into the higher range of his voice once more to catch the notes. Han joins him for the final line in lieu of I.N, lost somewhere across the stage, threading in a higher harmony as the drum kicks up towards the chorus.

"Now I'm walking on my way," you sing under your breath as their voices both rise, not wanting to disturb their fun but unable to resist the rise of the music when you know the melody and you love the song. Han doesn't hear you, his back turned to look at something Felix is doing over in the corner; neither does Minho, wandering restless circles in orbit around your group as he sings. That's okay though. You didn't really want to be heard anyway, not when you aren't-

Something hard taps you on the shoulder. 

You turn, looking down; a microphone awaits, held out expectantly for you to take. Chan looks at you expectantly, the offer never wavering even though it takes you several seconds of indecision to decide what it is you're going to do about it. He waves it at you again when you don't move, insistent.

Slowly, you take it from his hand, and watch the smile that lights up across his face.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna be left stranded by myself." The sound of your voice reverberating in the rafters, filling every corner of the room, sends a shiver down your spine, a shock of lightning that winds itself into the notes that you sing, electrifying the air. To your left, Han stops singing, turning around to watch you; from the far end of the stage, Hyunjin looks up too, sharp eyes landing on you. You turn away before fear can falter in your voice, looking out to the empty crowd instead, the wide space that waits for an audience to fill it.

Imagining them there, singing along as your voice rises above them, is giddying; but why wouldn't it be, when this has been the dream all along? And now it is so close, right here within your reach and in front of your eyes, and if it runs away from you once more-

The song ends, one final note from the very back of the stage ringing out. Your voice dies in your throat, the microphone falling away - for a moment, you wish that they would start up again so that you could have four lines more, or eight, or a whole song. You could live in this feeling forever, standing here on this stage, right up until the hour of the show when people would start to fill those seats and you would have to hide away again.

In the next moment, you become distinctly aware of all the eyes that are trained on your back, and you remember that this is not where you belong.

You turn sharply on your heel to face Chan, your heart in your throat. "Thankyou," you say, in a voice that is a little too stiff to be usual, and hold out the mic for him to take.

"Hey, no worries," he replies in English as he takes it, the warm metal slipping from your grip. "Sounds good, by the way. I like your voice."

"Oh." The compliment catches you off-guard, your fingers curling around themselves in the absence of the mic. "Thanks. I've been working on the songs."

"Have you ever sung on a big stage like this?" he asks.

You shake your head, your heart jumping again at the thought of it - blinding lights and screaming crowds and the music down in your bones. "I did a survival show before I came to JYP," you say, "but the stages there were only a hundred or so people, not...thousands."

Chan's face changes, from that usual, polite warmness he puts on to a confusion that tugs at his brow. "I didn't know you were on a show," he says, in a voice that says he is dying to ask more questions.

"It wasn't very popular," you offer freely, something between a smile and a grimace turning the corners of your mouth. "It was so much work, and then they dropped two of us in the predebut stage, and disbanded six months later. I shouldn't have ever done it."

"And then JYP dropped you from Midnight as well," he adds, and then blanches at the grimace that comes across your face, rocking back on his heels. "Sorry. I didn't mean that in a bad way."

"I don't think there's any good way to say it, is there?" you reply, trying to wipe that expression off your face and slow the jump of your heart in your chest. Tension tightens in the air like a wire, expanding to fill the whole stage before it snaps. "Six years in training, three debuts lined up, and-" You stop as short as Chan did before you finish that sentence, looking at your feet to avoid looking at him. "I'm trying really hard this time, I promise. Not that I didn't try the last two times, it just didn't-"

"Hey," he says, cutting through the babble that your sentence has descended into. "I know what you mean; I was here for seven years before Stray Kids, so...I know where you're at. And you can tell me whatever you want, yeah? I'm not that scary. Ask any of them."

You lift your eyes, following the line of his finger to the seven boys he is pointing to at the back of the stage. The sharp eye of Lee Know catches yours from within the crowd, eyebrow raising as if to ask what you need; you glance away as if you hadn't noticed, eyes sliding across to the empty side of the stage. 

What are you supposed to say? I don't know if we can talk casually without it being rude, or you hold my entire life in your hands and I don't know what to do about that? If I relax before debut I'll get dropped, or I think I'm cursed? None of those things seem right to say, and when you look at him out of the corner of your eye, trying to pretend like you aren't looking at all, you realise that you're still not sure you trust him, even though it's been over a month and he's given no indication that he wants you gone bad enough to undermine you.

But he never wanted you here in the first place.

"I'm not scared of you," you say, and force yourself to look him in the eye. Your mouth is set in a grim line, your jaw clenched; you know immediately by the way the corners of his eyes crinkle that he can see through the lie, but he doesn't say anything. "I'm just really focused on making it to debut. I want to be one of you, not just...the trainee on the side."

He reaches out, hesitant as his hand lands on your shoulder. Giving you time to move away, you realise, but you don't. It's grounding, in a way, even if the proximity of him and the stretch of the stadium out around you makes you want to curl up and hide away. "You already are one of us," he insists.

But when you look into his eyes, you can tell that he doesn't really believe it - and you know that he can see that you don't really believe it either.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969

[throneofsapphics]

points for creativity 

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: Cassian comes up with a solution to your fight. 

Warnings: nudity, arguing, suggestiveness, not proofread, minors dni!

A/N: this wouldn’t leave my mind 

“I’m tired of this.” Cassian muttered, and grabbed your hand - dragging you right to your bedroom. “Take your clothes off.” 

“Excuse me?” You yelped, but he stormed in and kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting go of your wrist. He took a few steps away from you and crossed his arms over his body, grabbing the edges of the fabric. You were distracted, admiring the planes of his stomach, the way they moved as he stretched, the shirt discarded to the side. 

“Stop ogling.” He grunted, “your turn.” 

You narrowed your eyes, but he had an expectant look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest, and you decided to play along. You let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling your eyes before angrily pulling your shirt over your head, bunching it up and launching it at him. He caught it with a chuckle before tossing it to the side. He eyed the band over your chest. 

“That too.” 

“What the fuck is this,” you mumbled, but listened to him. The rest of both of your clothes followed, until you both were standing naked in the bedroom, a few feet away from each other. 

“Now yell at me.” 

What were you arguing about in the first place? “You were the one yelling.” You snipped at him, ignoring how his fists clenched slightly. It was more difficult to get angry at him like this, with him bare in front of you. Still, somehow you ended up in a slightly less heated argument about what the argument actually was, and who started it - but not about the issue itself. 

Both of you were distracted enough that you didn’t hear the door creak open. 

“Do I want to know what’s going on?” Azriel’s cool voice echoed through the room, shadows pooling around his ankles. You figured he knows exactly what’s happening, but wants to hear it from the two of you. 

You pointed over to Cassian, “he thought this was a solution to our … disagreement.” 

“You both were just yelling at each other.” He deadpanned, closing the door and leaning back against it, arms crossed over his chest as his mouth quirked up at the corners. 

“Her voice isn’t bursting my ear drums now.” Cassian muttered and you flipped your middle finger at him. Azriel curled his fingers inward, motioning for you to come closer to him. 

You strode across the room, the wind hardening your nipples and watched how his eyes tracked that - his pupils dilating. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and placing a kiss against the top of your hair. 

“Traitor.” You heard the other male, and hid your smile in his chest. 

“I said nothing.” Azriel murmured, but his hand ran up and down your spine. 

“I’m prettier naked.” You mumbled, squeezing him before turning in his arms to see Cassian’s look of mock-hurt. You could tell Azriel was scanning Cassian’s body, based on how he seemed to be preening, standing a little straighter. 

“You’re pretty too Cassian.” Azriel finally said, flicking one of your nipples when you called him a traitor, keeping his arm tight around you as you squirmed, an indignant yelp leaving your lips. He lowered his mouth to your ear, lips grazing across it. “Hush.” 

His palm spread across your stomach, his thumb running light strokes up and down. “Well,” he pushed you closer to him, your body easily melting into his. “What were you fighting about?” 

[helluvapoison]

Hi!! I love your writing so much! I was curious if you could write a Headcannon list for Adam and Lute with a partner that had a sleeping disorder?

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Considering his sleeping schedule isn’t structured by any means, he’s not bothered

• Actually it might take him a minute to really take notice

• During the day there’s this and to do, band practice, gigs and gaming breaks in between

• Eventually it’s all he can see. Your sluggish steps a beat or so behind his own, fists attempting to cover up yawns or rub the tiredness from your eyes

• The first couple times he’ll roll his eyes and make a comment, “Oh sorry, am I boring you?”

• Irritation fades to genuine concern the longer it goes on, “Fuck babe, go to sleep already.”

• Adam’s at a loss when you try to explain why it’s not that simple

• He’s thrown a lot of money at the situation. Comfier bed, softer sheets, one of those butt plug looking smoke machines (a humidifier) to make sleeping more enticing

• As a last ditch effort, once a day he’ll snatch away whatever you’re occupying yourself with, tether you to him with his arms and wings and make you close your eyes

• There’s a 50/50 chance he’ll fall asleep before you or wait to see if his efforts succeeded

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• As Adam’s right hand man, she prides herself on a perfect regime

• You’ll never see her yawn or complain that she’s tired. Even if she doesn’t get the full 8 hours of sleep, she wakes up promptly with the ring of her alarm

• It works for her, why doesn’t it work for you?

• You’re practically asleep at the wheel!

• Lute becomes frustrated, she thinks it’s because you’re not trying hard enough

• She’s not one to dote or coddle, you’re not a baby for fucks sake!

• Watching you rub your face, seemingly just as annoyed as she feels, irks her even more. Your eyes are heavy, shoulders slumped, head nodding when you sit down for too long

• Lute stiffens when she feels a weight on her shoulder and hears a soft snore at her side. Her first instinct is to wake you but she can’t bring herself to

• She exerts herself trying to find a solution

• Electronics have a curfew now, she hangs blackout curtains and dabs lavender oil under the pillows

• Promptly at 8 Lute will present you with a warm, non-optional cup of chamomile tea!

• She perches on the edge of the bed and waits until you fall asleep

• If you stay very still, she’ll act like she’s moving hair away from your face then continue combing through it with her nails

[infraaa]

KOSA 101

Let’s talk about this. This is something I haven’t seen a lot of in my end, and this new bill may be troubling to not just us as a whole, but content creators. So, this isn’t just exclusive to AO3 anymore. This can go as far as places like Wattpad, Quotev, DeviantArt, and here.

So, to put it bluntly, if you give a fuck, listen.

What is KOSA?

KOSA (Kids Online Safety Act,) is a bill within the United States that was initially created last year with the aim of protecting youth (considerably age 16 and under,) from viewing harmful content online. It has since been updated and reintroduced by Richard Blumenthal (D-CT) and Marsha Blackburn (R-TN.) Now, on surface level, it may seem like this has a good outlook, right? Not in the slightest. This bill, while it may not be passed yet rather introduced, may take an extreme to protect youth and monitor all. Yes, I said monitor.

Not only is NSFW content bound to be flagged, which may totally censor a lot of creators not just on this platform but others, a wider band that is under this new bill is LGBT+ content. According to Senator Blackburn of Tennessee, who is KOSA’s co-author, even education on race discrimination was viewed as “dangerous to kids,” and this soon branches out to race, gender, and sexuality discrimination. This also extends out to anxiety, depression, eating disorders, etc. The bill puts itself in the hands of State Attorney Generals in order for them to use tools of censorship against our rights and safety— not just for the youth, but for adults too, as we may face (giving an example,) hurdles trying to obtain things like legal documents.

How does KOSA work?

KOSA works by acting as a censor and self filter for the internet. By the hands of Attorney State Generals, they ultimately decide what is harmful to kids online. Though, this is a dual edged sword. This would also present the loss of access to information that a large sum of people may not deem dangerous. This again extends outward towards things like depression, substance abuse, etc— complex topics without a clear agreement on causes or solutions. This means that it could also filter, and possibly censor medical information, extending outward to trans medical care as well, which may lead on to silence the transgender community further. This is a very bad thing.

There would still be features like Age Verification, but it also filters legal speech. What I mean by “there will still be features,” to give an example, Tumblr has a tab in settings where you can add your birthday, which in turn verifies how old you are. Tiktok has this feature as well. About filtering legal speech, any kind of media or information that has to do with societal ills that is held on a platform, for example, Tumblr, will enable that platform to be held liable for holding that information. But… it may seem like I’m getting off topic, aren’t I?

So let’s swing back around…

KOSA has the ability to hurt creators on several different platforms. This gives the United States Government unlimited range of control over the internet.

This linktree has at least four different petitions open for you to take action against the bill, and to contact your congressmen and women. There’s also a discord server that’s dedicated to stopping KOSA from passing.

By doing this, you are spreading your voice. You are helping millions of people nationally— creators, artists, writers, everyone.

And finally, don’t just like this post. Reblog it— it helps it spread and gain exposure.

Let’s put an end to KOSA.

[doumadono]

hi i wanted to send an emergency request so if it makes you uncomfortable but ive been struggling with an eating disorder for 2 years now i was wondering if you could do katsuki comforting reader who cant get herself to eat.

Sanctuary of gentleness - Bakugo x Reader

A/N: I'm really sorry to hear about the struggles you’ve been facing. Healing is not linear and every small step you take towards recovery is a victory. It's important to be kind to yourself and recognize the strength it takes to face each day

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

The day had stretched out long and weary, a tapestry of endless hours that found you curled up on the living room sofa, a book lying forgotten on your lap. Sunlight waned, slipping through the curtains in lazy, golden streaks, as the clock ticked towards the time Katsuki would come home.

You hadn’t eaten anything all day. The very thought tightened an invisible band around your chest, making it hard to breathe, to move, to think beyond the numbing fear that came with every mealtime.

The sound of the door slamming jolted you from your reverie, heralding Katsuki’s return. His heavy footsteps resonated against the hardwood floor. "Hey," he started, his voice rough around the edges after a day of shouting orders and battling foes. "I'm home."

He was ready for a night of quiet, hopefully punctuated by the comfort of a shared meal with you, his beloved fiancée, but the apartment was too quiet, the usual signs of life unsettlingly absent.

He appeared in the doorway, his hero costume replaced by an oversized, grey t-shirt and black sweatpants, his face drawn tight with exhaustion, hair disheveled. He found you in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs.

You glanced up, managing a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Welcome back," you murmured.

Katsuki’s brow furrowed as he approached you, a twinge of concern tightening his chest.

The kitchen was untouched - the pots and pans in their places, the plates clean, the entire space too orderly. "Did you eat anything today?" he asked, his tone sharper than he intended.

Your silence was answer enough.

"Dammnit!" Katsuki exploded, his temper flaring as it often did when he felt helpless. "You need to eat, damn it! You can’t just -"

But he stopped, the anger draining from him as he took a closer look at you.

There were dark circles under your eyes, and your hands were clasped tightly in your lap. This wasn’t the stubbornness he often dealt with in the field; this was something deeper, something painful.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the spikes falling disorderly, a rare sign of his agitation. "I’m sorry," he muttered, sitting down beside you. He took a deep breath, his next words more measured. "Talk to me."

You shifted, leaning into him, your head resting against his strong shoulder. "I don’t know, Katsuki. It’s hard to explain," you whispered, the weight of your confession making your voice tremble. "Everything’s just too much. And I am not hungry... Even if I feel dizzy and unwell..."

Katsuki’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. His heart ached at your admission, his usual solutions of fighting through the problem useless here. "I know, babe, I know it’s hard," he said, his voice a low rumble coming from deep withing his chest. "But you gotta eat. We’ll figure this out, okay? Together."

You nodded against him, the fight draining out of you. "I want to get better," you admitted, "But I'm afraid I'm not strong enough. I'm so scared."

"Then we start small," he said decisively. "What about some green tea? And maybe some toast?" His proposal was gentle, a stark contrast to his usual bluntness.

"That sounds okay," you agreed.

Katsuki stood, extending his hand to you. "Let’s go then. I’ll make it." His words were a command, but his tone was soft, caring.

In the kitchen, Katsuki moved with a sureness. He heated the water, and soon tea was ready. He watched you out of the corner of his eye as he buttered the toast.

You sat at the counter, watching him, the normalcy of the situation making you feel calmer.

When he placed the cup and plate in front of you, his hand lingered over yours, warm and reassuring. "It’s okay to struggle," Katsuki said, meeting your gaze with an intensity that only he could muster. "But you’re not alone. Never."

Katsuki sat across from you, and started eating his portion.

As you nibbled on the toast and sipped the tea, Bakugo talked about trivial things - something funny Kirishima had said, a weird quirk a villain had used that day - his words light, but his presence a steadfast anchor in the storm of your thoughts. There was no impatience in his gaze, no biting remarks about the speed at which you ate. Instead, there was an unspoken encouragement.

When the plates were finally empty, Katsuki leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on you, but now there was a hint of pride in his eyes. "See? You can do this," he said, his voice low and reassuring.

You looked up from your plate, meeting his gaze. "It was good," you whispered softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "But I'm full."

Finally, the dishes were cleared, and you both moved to the living room, the space familiar and comforting.

Katsuki, usually a bundle of restless energy, seemed more at ease, his demeanor gentle as he sat down beside you on the couch. He draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you leaned into the warmth of his body, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your side. He kissed the top of your head softly, a gesture so laden with affection and resolve. "We're a team, remember?" he whispered, his voice a low rumble. "No matter how tough it gets, we face it together."

You nodded, the simplicity of the moment wrapping around you like a cocoon. "Together," you agreed, the word a lifeline in the swirling sea of your thoughts.

Katsuki had always been a fortress of strength, but now he was also a sanctuary of gentleness.

[mrsshabana]

𓆩♡𓆪 𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒂 ✧˖°.

Key: (🖤) Fan favorite - (🔞) Smut - (🕳️) Dark content

✦ ─── 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ⸝⸝

╭ Against All Odds (🖤)(🔞)

Kimetsu University had a reputation for successfully integrating humans and demons. That’s the main reason you chose this school, it promoted ideals that you were a strong advocate for. As a human you shouldn't be so excited to be surrounded by demons, and the last thing you expected was to form a crush on one of the most dangerous demons on campus.

╭ Your Biggest Fan (🔞)

You've dreamt of meeting your idol, the drummer of a popular band, for so long. And when you finally get the opportunity, he's more perfect than you ever could have imagined. What are the odds that you get the chance to become more than just a fangirl?

╭ Dearly Discarded (🔞)(🕳️)

Taking over your uncle's farm is proving to be more work than expected. Adopting a demon seemed like an easy solution. That is, until your heart broke when you found the most neglected and abused demon you've ever seen. Gyutaro has never been shown an ounce of affection, but as his new owner, you are willing to do what it takes to give him the life he deserves. Pet au. You adopt Gyutaro and attempt to heal his physical and mental wounds.

╭ Manic (🔞)(🕳️)

Gyutaro is a patient in the Rashomon Riverbank Asylum and you are his new nurse.

╭ His Prey

You're sent on your first assignment as an entomologist, but things quickly go awry on your first night and you meet a creature that should just be an urban legend - a strange human mantis hybrid.

╭ Pact with a Vampire

Working in a morgue, you're used to being surrounded by death. But one night you come face to face with an undead that isn't the norm for your line of work. Gyutaro is a newly turned Vampire, but luckily for him you're gullible enough to make a pact with him.

╭ Never Too Late (🖤)(🔞)

Gyutaro is 35 years old and has given up on love and his dream of having a family. But things change when you come into the picture and show genuine interest in him. But there's only one problem, you're 14 years younger than him.

✦ ─── 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 ⸝⸝

╭ Courtesan!Gyutaro x Reader (🖤)(🔞)

╭ Gyusimp Collab

╭ Incubus!Gyutaro x Reader (🔞)

╭ Blood Play Gyutaro x Reader (🔞)

╭ Toxic Gyutaro x Reader (🖤)(🔞)

╭ Always the Groomsmen, never the Groom (🔞)

╭ Gyutaro x Succubus!Reader (🔞)

╭ Gyutaro with a reader that did self harm (🖤)(🔞)

╭ Canon!Gyutaro x Modern!Reader

╭ Ume sets you up with Gyutaro (Pt.1) (Pt.2)

╭ Always the groomsman, never the groom (🔞)

╭ Car sex with Gyutaro (🔞)

╭ Meeting Gyutaro at the Gym (🔞)

╭ Dragon!Gyutaro x Reader

╭ Meeting Gyutaro at a glory hole (🔞)

╭ Birthday surprise from Gyutaro (🔞)

╭ Valentine's Day (🖤)

╭ Gyutaro x Eldritch!Horror!reader

╭ Detention (🖤)

✦ ─── 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⸝⸝

╭ Gyutaro x Beautiful!Reader (500 follower special) (🖤)(🔞)

╭ Toxic Gyutaro au (🔞)

╭ Gyutaro x Plus size!reader

╭ Gyutaro & Denji

╭ Tumblr Gyutaro (🔞)

╭ Gyutaro x Camgirl!reader (🔞)

╭ Ballerino Gyutaro

✦ ─── 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬 ⸝⸝

╭ SoftDom!Reader ╭ Mirror sex with Gyutaro ╭ Riding Gyutaro's hip bones ╭ Reaction to edging ╭ Reaction when you don't bathe ╭ Passionate sex ╭ Gyutaro's first time having sex ╭ Roleplay & Breeding kink ╭ Would Gyutaro be ticklish? ╭ Bathing Gyutaro ╭ Reaction to someone he loves coming out ╭ Reaction to your jealous pet ╭ Reaction to your insecurities ╭ Giving and receiving body worship ╭ Asexual reader ╭ Transmasc!Reader ╭ Reaction to your tattoo of him ╭ Seeeing your tattoo of him ╭ Gyutaro turns you into a demon against your will ╭ How horny are all the au Gyutaro's? ╭ Aging reader ╭ Languages Gyutaro knows in all au's ╭ Would Gyutaro praise or degrade? ╭ Opinion of the swamp demon & snake demon ╭ Reaction to being flirted with ╭ Gyutaro with glasses ╭ Comforting you when you have family issues ╭ Gyutaro reacts when Ume is mean to you ╭ Reader with vitiligo or birthmarks ╭ Semi-verbal reader ╭ You die for Gyutaro ╭ Fighting with Gyutaro (s/o) ╭ When you don't celebrate your birthday ╭ Every au Gyutaro in one room ╭ Insecure!female!reader ╭ All Gyu's reacting to self-harm scars ╭ Reacting to your cats ╭ Voyeurism (part 2) ╭ Gyutaro with hearing aids

✦ ─── 𝐒𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐏𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 ⸝⸝

╭ Siren Gyutaro ╭ Mafia Gyutaro

𝐀𝐔 𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐬 & 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 ✧˖°.

✦ ─── 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ⸝⸝

╭ Kinktober 2023 (🖤)(🔞)

Pinned Post ✧˖° Masterlist ✧˖° Art

[bonny-kookoo]

OT7: Tongue Tied (Intro)

In which you're not supposed to be the solution for all of the problems- but maybe you're just that; the missing piece.

Tags/Warnings: SFW, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader, Wolf!BTS, Dog!Reader, strangers to ???, fluff, some angst, insecurities & very openly emotional reader

Length: long

A/N: the next chapters will, one by one, focus more on each member getting closer to the mc.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"She will stay in a separate space we've been renovating for her at the company building." The manager says, well aware that the seven boys are very much not on board with the whole plan. "So you'll basically just have to interact with her for the camera and on certain schedules. Listen, I know you don't like the idea but it's the best way of making you guys seem.. less.. dangerous, after all that happened." He carefully phrases.

Jungkook scoffs. Namjoon clenches his jaw at that reaction, ready to scold. Taehyung sighs, tired of the constant fighting.

It was something the company had been fearing for quite some time now. And now, it's come to a point where even the public has noticed the growing tensions within the hybrid band- everyone on edge, easily irritated by each other. Originally, everyone had always thought it would be fine if they 'grew up' alongside each other, especially with Jungkook having been so young when he joined the company and group. But it didn't really matter down the line, it seems like, because by now, the air is constantly thick with frustration.

For the fans all over the world, the group full of hybrids, a somewhat traditional 'packing wolves, has been nothing but perfect and a shining representation of how far hybrids can come nowadays in terms of reaching success and wealth. But behind closed doors, it's headaches, fights, arguments and stress for everyone involved.

From trying to somehow keep track of their heats to re-scheduling things over and over again because the person interviewing or hosting at the event might be an unmated hybrid that could set off any of the guys at just a glance. They're all of a category two, technically independent and mostly human- but sometimes, staff would like to argue against that. Jungkook and Jimin can be harder to control than a horde of toddlers sometimes, while Yoongi and Namjoon are sometimes just plain scary. Taehyung literally does what he wants together with Seokjin, and Hoseok usually keeps to himself. Its all a mess, really.

Especially now that the cracks had begun to show to the public as well.

"Why a category five though?" Jin argues from the side. "You've been complaining about us for years now. And we're the most 'normal' one might say." He air quotes as he speaks.

"If they see you being kind to a category five like her-" the manager explains himself, "-they highly likely will calm down."

"Or start letting their frustrations out on her." Namjoon disagrees. "If they smell just a hint of any of us liking her in any way they'll go rabid."

"So what? It's not like she'll properly understand the situation, or talk about it to anybody." The manager shakes his head. "She will live at the company building, like I said. That's top security around her twenty-four-seven, and she will also have regular caretakers- staff will look after her for you, you don't have to interact with her at all apart from scheduled activities. It'll be fine." He tries, and everyone sighs.

Well- it's not like they've got the last word either way.

---

Jungkook is a sensitive person.

Not as in weak, but as in, his senses are very much sharp enough to notice even the slightest changes in something. And so when the first furniture is delivered, first boxes with what he assumes to be the new hybrid's personal items, there's something in the air he can't quite put a finger on.

"Oh, Jungkook-ssi!" One of the staff almost runs into him, as he stands alone in the dark and rather small space you'll be living in soon. "I almost locked you in. Is there something you need?" She asks, and he shakes his head.

Something about the faint scent of yours clinging to some of the items placed, like the blankets and pillows and stuffed animals, makes him wonder what will happen from now on. You're being used for higher gain- and in a way, he wonders if you'll know that, or if you're not able to understand the complexity of the situation like his managers had claimed. A category five doesn't mean you're mentally challenged, after all. You're just a bit more hybrid than he, or the rest of the guys are.

And somehow, it all just suddenly feels so fucked up to him.

"No, sorry, I just wanted to.. look around I guess." He offers the staff member who nods kindly, before he leaves to go home.

Somehow feeling a little heavy inside.

---

"Am I the only one who thinks this is fucked up?" Yoongi sighs as they all laze around in the living room area of the dorm they share. "We don't even know where the fuck they get that hybrid from."

"With the way they're talking about her it feels as if she must be from a carecenter or something alike." Seokjin offers from the side. "After all, they did mention that she needs help in looking after herself." He notes, and Taehyung chimes in at that.

"I mean I get the idea but.. it's still odd to 'use' her for that. And what if she doesn't even like us?" He shakes his head. "Category five's are pretty obvious in what they're thinking. It's not like they can just tell her to act the part."

Everyone falls silent at that. The wolf hybrid has a point here- if she doesn't play the part well, what will happen then?

"Well- not that I care." Hoseok announces, getting up. "And neither should you guys. We're getting paid to entertain people, nothing more." He simply mumbles to himself, leaving to go to bed. And he's probably right too- the less the guys think about what the situation means to you, the better. And done the line, the space given to you at the company building is definitely better than any shelter or carecenter you're probably currently residing at.

Jungkook however isn't convinced. He's still remembering that odd feeling he had earlier standing in between all those things that smelled like you.

And he's got a feeling that this whole 'plan' will probably not go the way they all planned it to.

---

Despite everyone's varying levels of interest in you at first, it's pretty clear that today, the date you'll be officially moving in, the entire pack is equally as eager to get a glimpse of you.

"Remind me why you're all in my studio?" Namjoon sighs, watching everyone camp out in his small space, both Jimin and Taehyung peeking out the door.

"They're here! There right there, they just brought them in-!" Jimin whispers sharply, and suddenly even Namjoon gets up to maybe catch a glance.

"She must be young." Taehyung mumbles, watching how an elderly woman in a 'Seoul Hybrid Care Project'-jacket holds your hand as you walk next to her. Your tail is a little curled and clearly one of a canine hybrid- your ears somewhat folded downwards.

"Maybe she's just short." Namjoon argues quietly, Jungkook pushing a bit to get a glimpse too. "I mean- if she was too young to attend late shows and schedule that would be pretty dumb wouldn't it?" He wonders, and the others hum in agreement, watching as your tail lowers, your mood visibly changing as soon as it's evident you'll be staying.

They all start to feel a little bad once they have to watch you cling to the caretaker- probably your only familiar person, who attempts to make you understand that you'll stay here now. It's the first taste of what you as a category five are like- there's no covering up your emotions whatsoever, you visibly and clearly make it known that you're not happy about this situation.

The only thing that soothes the pack a little it the sight of the staff gently wiping your tear stained cheeks before leading you into your new living space, door closing behind you. Though it's odd- because somehow, the entire pack feels closer than they've been in a few years by now, everyone equally both interested and mildly worried for you.

"Okay I can't be the only one who feels this though." Taehyung suddenly perks up, the ball of squeezed together wolf hybrids breaking up as they all get back into the studio, door closing. "Right?"

"She's a category five Taehyung!" Namjoon scolds.

At that, everyone falls silent for a moment.

Because while they can't deny what Taehyung mentioned was true-

Namjoon also had a point.

---

You are, in fact, not actually that young, merely months behind Jungkook.

And Seokjin's very sharp sense of observation tells him that you're not at all unaware of your surroundings whatsoever. It seems like you want to talk often but then remember something that makes you shut up before you can even open your mouth. You're however otherwise clearly aware of what's going on, interested and curious about things you don't know. It must be frustrating to not be able to voice out your thoughts, he thinks to himself, already wondering if there could be a different way of communicating with you.

Turns out you are indeed a domestic dog hybrid, chosen for your rather reserved but friendly nature. You've been born to a mother than wanted to stay anonymous, having given you up as a newborn pup at a shelter, presumably because you're the result of infidelity.

Taehyung is, to no one's surprise, the first one to try and interact with you in the practice room. You seem a bit hesitant at first but it's very clear that you're easily warming up to him, your tail wagging every time Jimin says something that makes Taehyung laugh. The two wolves are sitting close to you, and you seem alright with that, albeit a little shy.

Which is to be expected, considering its been barely a week since you moved into the company building, and you've also never really met them.

"What're you looking for, hm?" Taehyung wonders as he watches you search around for something. You look at him at that, unsure, like you're fighting internally with yourself.

"Maybe she's too shy to say it out loud?" Jungkook wonders, sitting down close to you as well now. "You wanna whisper it maybe?" He tries, leaning in and pointing to his hybrid ear-

And to everyone's surprise you do actually sit up on your knees, cupping your hands over his ears before you whisper something.

And of course, everyone is eager to know what it was, since it makes the youngest look so caught off guard, cheeks red as he gets up to fetch a bottle of water from a table nearby.

They distract themselves for the time being by starting to actually practice, occasionally watching your reaction to their choreography. Being watched by you is actually not that weird at all- if anything, it makes them all work a bit harder as if to impress you, underline their deaths as the perfect idols they are.

Though, at the end of the day, they're also just a pack of young wolves, and it's clear.

Jungkook let's himself fall onto his back close to you, huffing in exhaustion making everyone laugh. The air feels oddly light today, as if the stress isn't actually that bad this time around. And it's especially evident in the way everyone laughs when you reach out to pet Jungkooks head as if to tell him that he worked hard, making the idol shy again.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

---

It's your first public appearance.

Described to the public as a 'charity case', you've been somewhat officially shown in behind the scenes footage every now and then, many fans having already found some info on you from the internet. The reactions are mixed, but mostly positive- many claiming that the band and company are showing how kind the world can be by taking you in. It's probably because the company itself had made it clear that you do not actually live with the boys, but in a separate place with personal caretakers, eliminating the possibility of causing a dating rumor for now, though that might happen naturally at some point.

However, all is better than having to defend the guys fighting amongst each other like dogs over food.

The level of comfort around you varies amongst the members, which is to be expected- but it's already clear that you're very good at wrapping people around your little finger. Seokjin is holding your hand as they all walk through the airport together, and you never let go of it once, staying close to the oldest. He's become somewhat of a guardian figure for you- his calm and carefree attitude drawing you in.

He helps you buckle your seatbelt on the plane, and helps you out of your jacket like it's second nature, though he does roll his eyes at Hoseok commenting how he looks like a father. "Well at least I'm helping her, you all just ignore her or play around!" He scolds, tension rising when Taehyung starts to argue from the corner.

"Hey, no one asked you to play the part!" He barks. "We got staff for that.." he scoffs to himself, while Namjoon shakes his head.

"Guys please.." he begs quietly, though the barking doesn't die down.

"So we're just supposed to act like we care but toss her aside? How cruel is that?" Jin argues back, making Jungkook whine from close by.

"Hyung, don't shout like that-" He worries, and Seokjin is ready to really shout now, when Yoongi gets up and walks over to unbuckle your seatbelt. Only now does everyone take a moment to notice you quietly crying to yourself.

"Come on, I'll get you some tissues.." the wolf mumbles quietly to you, effectively removing you from the crossfire to have you sit next to himself instead.

It's quiet at that, except for the soft sound of you blowing your nose and whimpering a bit as Yoongi offers his silent support to you. Jin sighs as he sits back down, sound signaling the start of the flight.

It stays quiet like this until the seatbelts are allowed to be removed, an apologetic looking Jungkook walking up next to where Yoongi sits next to you. You're asleep already, having taken the rapper up on the silent offer to sleep on his lap, a pillow on his thighs offering comfort for your head. "M' sorry." The youngest mumbles quietly, running a hand over your head.

"We've got to stop, at least around her." Namjoon says, calmly. "Our pack issues are one thing, but unloading all that on her is just unfair."

"I didn't mean to shout like that.." seokjin sighs from his seat.

"And I didn't mean to get so angry either.." Taehyung apologizes.

"What's even wrong with us in the first place?" Hoseok asks, shaking his head to himself. "Its like we're just fighting these days, nothing else."

"Cause we do." Jungkook says, still petting your head. It's clear that the youngest is pretty attached to you already. "We're just complaining and arguing.." he mumbles softly, watching you sleep.

"Why.?" Jin asks himself mostly.

"Doesn't matter." Yoongi quietly offers. "But we gotta figure this shit out without getting her caught in the middle like that." He reminds everyone. "She can't talk and tell us to stop-"

"She can, though." Jungkook perks up, ears standing tall.

"What?" Namjoon is interested now. Category five hybrids typically don't talk.

"The water bottle on Tuesday. She told me what she wanted when I asked her to, you know, tell me quietly." Jungkook explains. "I think she's just- embarrassed, maybe?"

"Of what?" Hoseok wonders. "Talking in that category is impressive."

"Yeah but she- I guess she's got some trouble pronouncing words. She didn't say 'water' for example, but something like 'wadu'." He tells his packmates.

"Thats cute though." Taehyung laughs from his seat, the others chuckling as well. "Maybe at the center she got made fun of." He tries to justify.

"Could be." Namjoon nods. "But with some practice she could surely work on that issue. It would help tremendously if she at least communicates in single words." He says, and everyone agrees.

"You know.." yoongi smiles to himself, looking down on you still sleeping. "...I think she's doing something entirely different than just polishing our image already."

"Huh?" Hoseok asks.

"Dont you notice?" The rapper asks the pack. "Everytime it's about her, we agree. No fighting. We suddenly problem-solve and actually talk." He explains.

"...I-" Namjoon stares at you at that revelation, realizing it as well. "You're right."

Maybe you're not just a publicity stunt after all-

But an actual solution for the root of the problem.

[deathblacksmoke]

Cyanide | Part 2

Pairing: Nick Ruffilo x Musician!OFC (Shaun)

Summary: 2000s-era local band AU. Nicky meets Shaun — older, cooler, a better bassist, a little mean. She’s nonchalant. He couldn’t be more enamored.

CW: smoking (content warnings updated by chapter)

Word Count: 2.2K

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🖤

title and inspo from “cyanide” by creeper.

His head is fuzzy, ears full of static as he sits with Noah at the bar. His mind hasn’t cleared of the thought of her since 2 weekends ago. He hasn’t known a moment of peace since she stepped into her car and sped off, since he went to his mama’s in search of a phone book only to be hit with the kindly worded reality that searching by first name in the phone book is unlikely to pay off, since he went to their last show with high hopes only for her to be nowhere to be found.

If not for his vivid memories of that night — the sound of her laugh, the edges of her smile, the way her perfume smelled mixing delicately with her cigarette smoke — he would think he dreamt her. He’s humiliated himself in pursuit of her and still he comes up empty.

“Dude, are you even listening to me?” Noah interrupts, rousing Nick abruptly from his thoughts.

He’s sure Noah’s gotten used to his semi-absence the past couple weeks — around, but not all there. He’s sure he’s grown a little sick of it, as well, Nick chiming in every now and again to bring her up. He’s sure it’s a little grating on them all, but he finds he can’t really help it. 

“Do you think I’ll ever see her again?” Nick asks before Noah’s eyes light up with amusement, a vaguely annoyed fondness. He works to push away the shame and embarrassment it makes him feel. “I’m serious, Noah.”

Noah rolls his eyes, but his expression remains soft, “Probably.”

Nick huffs, finding Noah’s response wildly unhelpful. He wishes he never brought it up, that he could push the thoughts of her away and go back to normal. Whatever normal was.

“Why don’t you just get her number from one of her bandmates?” Noah offers like it’s the easiest solution in the world, overlooking the fact that if he knew how to get in touch with any of them, he would have by now. He doesn’t know a single one of their names. “I can ask Daisy for you if you want.”

Nick feels as his expression falls, at the first ever mention of this Daisy. Nick isn’t sure who she is, but if she can help find Shaun, he doesn’t know why Noah didn’t mention her before.

“And Daisy is who?” Nick asks, his tone edged with quite a lot more annoyance than he intends. He doesn’t correct himself, though.

“The drummer for Morning Dew,” Noah responds. Nick feels lost, and he’s sure it shows on his face when Noah continues, voice laced with frustration. “Shaun’s band. Nick, what the hell is wrong with you?”

He wants to ask Noah why the offer didn’t come sooner. He wants to criticize him for keeping it a secret, but instead goes for something a little more subtle. He decides to be reasonable for the first time in weeks.

“I’m sorry,” he concedes. He figures it’s the least Noah deserves, after everything. “Can you help me?”

“If it’ll help get you back to normal, I’ll do anything,” Noah responds. Nick bows his head to take a sip of his beer, attempting to camouflage his humiliation as his cheeks heat.

She normally goes to Fallout on Thursday nights.

He stares at Noah’s text, up to the sign on the building, and back down to his phone. Wishful thinking has him hoping it’s the wrong place, but the chances of there being more than one club in Richmond named Fallout feels slim.

Noah had given him a very brief rundown, passed along from Daisy — it’s a goth club, so dress accordingly. He went for what he thought would be safe: black jeans, black t-shirt, black boots. He figured he would blend in, at the very least. As he looks at the groups filing through the entrance, he becomes increasingly sure he’ll stick out more than he ever has.

If he’s already so uneasy standing across the street from the place, he can’t imagine how he’ll feel once he steps inside the doors. His feet stay planted on the sidewalk. He can’t bring himself to cross the street.

He’s moments away from walking back to his car and calling it an early night when he remembers: she’s in there. The only thing separating him from seeing her again is a little discomfort, a few overpriced beers, and probably a headache.

Not to mention, the guys will never let him live it down if he comes home dejected and without even trying first. He remembers when he asked Noah for his help, when he felt positive he’d do anything to see her again. He still is, and he’s going to.

He feels wobbly on his feet as he makes his way to the door, receives a sideways glance from the bouncer checking his ID, and steps into the club. He’s left to immediately grapple with the glaring reality that this is not his scene.

It’s at once too dark and too bright, and loud in a way he isn’t used to. The unease on his feet has only worsened since he stepped inside. As he tries his hardest to find a single other person here alone and fails, he curses himself for not trying harder to convince Noah to come along. His scoff of absolutely not felt both firm and final, and even if he had been in the mood to argue, it’s hard to compete with the excuse of a 5 am shift.

All alone and out of his element here, he feels like he’ll be sick.

The thought of any alcohol in his system sounds like a worse and worse idea as the nausea starts to set in. The unfriendly bartender snarls when Nick asks for water, likely assuming it’ll cost him a tip. Nick slips him a $5 to get into his good graces, but it doesn’t seem to help any as he turns on his heels and makes his way to the other end of the bar.

Sipping what he was given and assuming he won’t be getting another, he sets his sights on finding her. He knows that he would recognize her anywhere, even as the strobes warp his vision and the thud of the bass rattles his bones. 

He briefly considers making his way into the crowd, getting a better look around, but he feels so unwell already. He doesn’t think it would be the best idea. He feels so foolish for coming here, for thinking it would be as easy as walking through the doors and she’d appear.

He hadn’t considered how creepy it would make him feel, like a stalker, underdressed in the goth club. He’s sure that if she’s here, she’s dressed appropriately, looks phenomenal — when she sees him, if she does, she’ll see right through him.

He can’t have this be the place they meet again.

He’s about ready to go, digging in his wallet for some extra money to throw in the tip jar when there’s a voice from behind him that sounds awfully familiar.

“Hey, Ant,” she shouts, confident over the music, getting the bartender’s attention immediately. “Water, please?”

The bartender — Ant, he assumes — doesn’t react to her with quite the same disdain he’d received. He wants to slip out without her seeing him, hide in his shame, but she’s so close behind him he’s sure he could feel her radiating body heat. It’s just his luck.

When she gets her drink, she doesn’t disappear back into the crowd as he’d hoped. She shuffles just a little bit closer, and God he hopes it’s not on purpose, but from the corner of his eye he sees her fingers drumming on the bar.

“You found me,” she says, and her flat tone does nothing to betray how she might feel about that. He wants to shrink into himself, or disappear completely.

He feels a buzzing beneath the surface of his skin that he can’t attribute to excitement. He feels sick. He has to leave, no matter the risk of it being the final nail in his humiliation coffin.

“I’m sorry, I was just leaving,” he says as he gets up from the bar stool and heads hastily for the door. He neglects to leave anything else in the tip jar, but it won’t matter, anyway. He won’t be coming back here if he can help it.

Before he can get too far, a delicate hand wraps around his arm to stop him. He burns from the inside out.

“You went through all this trouble to find me and you leave the moment you finally do?” 

He feels himself physically shrink. He wonders just how much she knows about the trouble he went through, how hard he tried to find her, how much it’s been eating away at him for weeks. He turns to her, meeting her eyes for the first time tonight. She looks perfect. “Daisy told me you might be showing up tonight. The least you can do is stay a while.”

“I feel kind of sick,” he confesses. He feels unsteady on his feet again, much more so than he has all night, and he’s worried he might pass out if he doesn’t get outside. It’s all a little humiliating. “I need to go outside for a little bit.”

She smiles at him then, and it’s the same dazzling smile he remembers from weeks ago. It tells him that she pities him, but there’s an endeared twinkle in her eye that makes his heart race. He’s pleased to just be perceived by her, and he doesn’t have it in him to find that embarrassing.

“I need a smoke break anyway,” she offers. “Can I come with you?”

He feels his hands shake as he nods, the same as when they first met. The overwhelm takes over. He didn’t actually consider what he would do when he finally saw her again, and he feels out of his element. Unprepared. He turns on his heels and heads for the doors. He can’t bear to turn around and see her trailing behind him.

He lights his own cigarette, not knowing if in his current state he can handle his lips touching where hers have. He suddenly feels like a teenager again, caught like a fish out of water and flailing. He wants to apologize, to say anything, but he can’t seem to find the words he needs.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” she asks, breaking the dreadful silence. She blows her smoke in the opposite direction from him like she’s used to being around nonsmokers. To return the kindness, although unnecessary, he finds himself mirroring her action.

“I didn’t realize how out of place I’d feel,” he admits. She nods like she understands and it’s the first time he hasn’t felt uneasy, like maybe she wants him here. He averts his gaze anyway. “I’m sorry if it’s weird that I came.”

“It’s not like I gave you much of a choice,” she concedes, knocking her knee against his. He feels so small as his heart speeds up, as he has to actively keep himself from reaching for her hand. The feeling that she gives him is so unlike anything else he’s ever known — to be under her microscope feels both like a blessing and an absolute curse. He doesn’t know what he’s meant to do about it. “I’m impressed you came. When Daisy told me, I was sure you wouldn’t show up.”

“I really wanted to see you again,” he says, deciding to go for the truth. It’s worked so far, no matter how mortifying it may feel. “I figured this could be my only chance.”

When he dares to look back up at her, he finds her already looking at him with that gorgeous smile he first fell in love with. She chuckles lightly and he can feel it everywhere. 

“Here, give me your phone.”

As he hands it over and  she flips it open, it really starts to sink in that he never really imagined getting this far. She felt like a dream to him, unattainable, even as he was doing everything in his power to find her. When she gives it back to him and their fingers graze each other, he’s set alight. He slides it back into his pocket — once he looks, it’s real, and it can be taken away once it’s real.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be home when you call,” she says as she stands up from the curb, stubs out her cigarette, taps the toe of his boot with hers. He looks up at her, knows he should rise from the curb and follow her back in. “But I’ll be waiting.”

She disappears back into the doors without so much as a goodbye, and he remains frozen in place. Her glance back at him burns itself into his vision.

Dizzy as he finally rises from the curb and heads in the direction of his car. Finally in possession of what he’s wanted this entire time, he feels more lost now than ever.

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[pedrito-friskito]

strawberry wine - joel miller x ofc!liv stone/fem!reader

during - part thirteen

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

you and joel make your reunion official, and deal with the fallout.

a/n: brO I will fully admit I struggled a bit with this one - it’s mostly unedited but I’m still happy with where we’ve ended up. ANGST CITY BABY AS PER USUAL. and my askbox is always open if you’d like to scream about it 😇

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, angst, explicit sex, unprotected p-in-v (with a slightly throwaway solution), light choking, very emotional sex (heavily inspired by a scene from outlander 👀), Joel’s head has been fully removed from his ass and Liv is making the most of it.

✨I do not have a taglist - follow @friskito-library for updates on future chapters/works!✨

You feel like you’re moving in slow-motion. Every moment feels drawn out, the emotion tripled, the touch more sensitive, the sound more clear. You’re committing every second to memory, refusing to let yourself think this is a dream.

“I can’t stay away from you.”

“So don’t.”

Don’t stay away from me, you want to say it a million times over. Don’t ever leave me, don’t let this world swallow me whole without you by my side. You know for a fact you don’t say the words out loud, but he seems to know them anyway. “Never leaving you, baby. Never in a million years.” The words are whispered into your skin, mapped out along the curve of your jaw.

You’re both slow, getting up off the floor. The peals of laughter taste like sugar on his lips, and your mouth chases his, hands reaching, searching, pulling at fabric and pushing at limbs. He hauls you up against him, lifting one thigh until it’s bent over his hip, presses his weight into you. Your neck arches and his lips glue to your pulse, sucking a bruise, tongue soothing the ache it leaves.

Take me to bed.

He does. With one more hungry kiss, he pulls away, planting his hands and pushing himself up, sliding his lips along your collar before he’s gone, shuffling backwards, getting to his feet. He holds both hands out to you, and you take them, groaning as he pulls you up, tugs on your arms, sends you sprawling into his chest.

Joel bands his arm around your shoulders, the other around your waist, seeks out your mouth again. 

Never stop kissing me. Never stop holding me. 

The riot of butterflies zipping through you feels foreign, almost unfamiliar, but when he pushes his tongue past your teeth, memories rise to the surface, bright spots amongst the dark. Kissing in the paint aisle with coffee on your breath, in the bed of his truck beneath the stars, in the corner of the movie theatre in Austin, in the dead of night when you slept in his bed and sought him out with sleep in the corners of your eyes.

It all feels like a lifetime ago. It is, in a way.

The hand at your waist moves beneath your sweater, the flat of his palm against the small of your back. The mere touch of his skin to yours makes your blood shiver with anticipation and you curl your fingers in the front of his flannel, dark red striped with black. He adjusts his grip on you, slides both hands up your back, presses them to your shoulder blades, the soft pressure making your arms lift, wrapping around his neck, lips still glued to his.

His hands slide back down, rounding the curve of your hips, squeezing at the meat of your ass. He walks you backwards, out of the kitchen, towards the bed, and you waste no time taking over, turning until you’re the one pushing him, your legs crooked between his, boots shuffling together across the wood floor. When the edge of the mattress hits the back of his knees, Joel flinches, your mouths breaking apart.

“Liv, are you—”

“Joel Miller, if you ask me if I’m sure, I swear to god I will smack you with my baseball bat.”

He has the audacity to grin, a sly thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “You stashed the bat.”

You scoff, almost exasperated. “Shut the fuck up.” You almost roll your eyes, but he grabs you again, both hands on your face, fingers curling around your ears, sliding into your hair. You slide your own beneath the hem of his shirt, seeking out hot skin, but you freeze when your fingertips skim something raised, a line across his hip, unfamiliar. “What…?”

You half expect him to pull away when you lift the fabric, leaning back enough to get a good look. 

“Joel—”

“Outbreak day,” he says, the words hushed, the tone in his voice making your eyes dart back up to his. His hands have slid down to your neck, and you can feel the edge of his thumb rubbing along the hinge of your jaw, the movement soothing. You let your fingers follow the shape of the scar again. “Bullet just skimmed me.” He inhales sharply, leans forward until his forehead is pressed to yours, his eyes shutting tightly. “Same soldier that…” The words trail off, but you put two and two together, taking a deep breath.

Same soldier that shot Sarah.

You move your hands away, instead focusing your fingers on the buttons of his flannel. “I like this shirt,” you murmur, tilting your face in his grip, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Might have to steal this one.”

“You have one of my shirts already,” he replies, his thumb moving up the slope of your cheek. “Saw it in your closet.”

You lift a brow, silently exhaling, grateful for the change of subject. “You went through my stuff?”

He catches your bottom lip in a gentle kiss, his mouth along your jaw a moment later. “Didn’t go through your underwear, don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t be mad, if you had,” you reply, letting your lips curve into a wicked grin. He makes a grumbling noise, giving you a harder peck, and you nearly moan.

“You have my shirt.”

You nod. “I had another one, too, but I got caught in the bombings, and it got shredded.”

His brow goes hard, and your hands move to his belt, tugging at the buckle, pulling it through the loops, dropping it to the floor. The movement makes his face soften slightly, and he grumbles again, eyes screwed shut. “Don’t like the idea of you, out there, all alone, fighting for your fuckin’ life.”

“Didn’t have a choice,” you tell him, working the button of his jeans neck, letting your fingers graze the skin above the band of his boxers, through the happy trail of hair that leads beneath the elastic. “I had to get to you.”

“Were you hurt?” he asks, his voice a low rasp, and you nod, the tip of your nose dragged along his. “Show me.”

You pull back slightly, reluctantly letting go of his waist, crossing your arms and yanking your sweater over your head. Joel inhales sharply, dropping his hands from your face. He grabs your wrist first, taking in the jagged scar that runs the top of your forearm. “I was holed up in a bookstore when they started bombing,” you tell him, recalling as he lets his fingers skim your skin. It makes you shiver. “Lucky a damn shelf didn’t fall on my head.”

“I remember…” he starts, lifting your arm until your hand rests on his shoulder. He turns his head, leans his cheek against your wrist. “When I called that first night, you said that Dean…that he scratched you, or…?”

You nod, turning your scarred shoulder towards him. “That’s right. You told me to patch myself up.”

His fingers graze over the scar, following the lines in your skin. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair, and your shoulder rolls back and he grips your hips again, thumbs rubbing slow circles. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says, his voice low, forehead leaning into yours. “I’m sorry I was an ass, I’m sorry I took so long, I’m sorry I—”

“Joel—”

“I’m never leaving you again, you hear me?” You’ve got both hands in his hair now, and the shine in his eyes makes tears crawl up your throat. “I won’t ever lo—”

“Joel.”

“I should have been here,” he says, his voice thick, and a tear slips down your cheek, hot as anything. “I should have protected you, I should have told you to stay in Austin, I never should have let you go.”

You tighten your grip on his hair, pushing yourself further into his grasp. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters, you understand?” When he doesn’t respond, you tug on his hair, forcing his eyes to yours. “You’re here now. We both are.”

The next kiss he offers destroys you. It’s like he’s devouring you, drinking the air from your lungs, tasting every inch of your mouth, pulling you back to the thrill and pleasure and love you felt in Texas so many years ago. There’s nothing slow about his movements now, hands roving your body, careful around your ribs, but mapping you out, relearning the curve of you. There are other scars on you, tiny marks collected outside the wall, too-close run-ins and that one time you fucking tripped and fell on your knife, but he doesn’t ask about those, too preoccupied with your mouth.

After a while, he sinks down, sits at the edge of the mattress. He spreads his knees wide, brings you between them, undoing your jeans with ease, pushing them down your legs. He leaves a hot trail of kisses along your waist, hooks his fingers in the elastic of your underwear, pulling them down too. Joel’s head dips lower, one hand pushing your legs apart, and you gasp when he licks at you, nose buried right between your thighs.

You gasp, tugging on his hair, and he pulls back, eyes on your face, lips shiny already. You’re quivering, having him this close again. “D’you have any idea how much I’ve missed the taste of you, baby?”

The words alone are enough to make your knees go weak, and you open your mouth to say something, but only a moan comes out, his head lowered to you once more, both hands an iron grip on your hips. It’s ecstasy, the feeling of his mouth, the press of his fingers, the softness of his hair. It makes your toes curl, makes stars shoot across the backs of your eyelids.

“Joel.”

He moans into you, and you pull hard on his hair, gasping for air when he detaches from the nerves between your legs. You feel staticky, your fingers and toes tingling as you tilt his head back, bend down to kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue. You go to lift your leg, to plant your knee on the bed beside him, but Joel stops you, getting to his feet.

“What—”

His fingers fly down the front of his shirt, unbuttoning as he goes. Your chest is heaving, eyes darting all over him as more bare skin is revealed. You can see the scar just above his hip now, raised and shiny. He has other scars, just like you, tiny marks and wounds, proof of life, proof he survived. You can’t help but reach for him, running your palms up his chest as he shrugs out of his shirt. 

Joel kisses your forehead as he drapes the shirt around you, helping you slide your arms through the sleeves. Faintly, you hear the soft thud as his jeans hit the floor, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against him as he sinks back down onto the mattress. He curls his other hand around your leg, tugging at your knee until it’s fit against his hip. You adjust your weight, lifting the other leg to match, and settle into his lap, feeling the light scratch of the hair on his legs against your thighs, the prod of his covered cock against your core.

“D’you need me to—” he starts, but you shake your head, cutting him off, your faces so close together that your nose brushes his again.

“I just wanna feel you.”

Joel watches, eyes heavy-lidded and pupils wide, as you grab his wrist, lifting his hand to your mouth, laving your tongue along his fingers, tasting the salt on his skin. His gaze is glued to your lips, your tongue, and when you slide his index and middle into your mouth, your eyes lock to his, and his grip on your waist grows impossibly tighter.

You lean up slightly, lifting your weight off him as he pulls his hand from your face, slipping between you, freeing himself. He fits his face into the curve of your neck, sucks at the thin skin over your pulse, and you let your eyes slip shut. Your fingers curl in the cuffs of his shirt, the fabric worn soft between your knuckles. You’re surrounded by the scent of him, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of him. 

His hand drags slowly against you, making your back arch when you sink back down, feeling the hot press of him inside you, scrabbling at his shoulders as his mouth moves up your throat, seeks out your lips once more. You’re gasping as you seat yourself fully, his cock filling you to the hilt, and Joel kisses the noises right out of you, moving both hands to your hips, guiding you along him.

“That’s my girl,” he rasps, teeth nipping at your lips, moving along your jaw. You’re a mess, the feeling of him, of being full of him, after so long is so achingly familiar that all you can do is hold onto him, pushing both hands through his hair, keeping him as close as you can. It’s a stretch, there’s no denying that, just riding the line between pleasure and pain, but you don’t care, letting your knees slide wider on the bed, letting yourself sink deeper into his embrace, letting him push agains tall those devastating places buried inside you.

It makes you feel alive.

“Missed you,” he breathes into your skin, hips jolting up into yours with every drag of his cock. “Every fuckin’ day, every fuckin’ minute. Never stopped thinkin’ about you, baby.”

“Joel—” you croak out, that coil in your belly snapping tight when you feel his teeth scrape beneath your jaw, one hand dipping back to grab a handful of your ass. But every movement is slow still, a drawn-out instant that blurs the line between past and present.

It sparks something in you, something that’s been waiting to be unleashed for God only knows how long. A near toxic mix of anger and longing and pain and love, emotion spilling out of you unbidden. You shove at his shoulders, catching him off guard as he falls back. He reaches for you, and you bat his hands away, planing both of yours and chest and grinding down on him.

“You were an ass to me, Joel Miller,” you grit, pleasure setting your nerves alight. You can feel your orgasm barrelling towards you, but you hold back, bearing down on him, revelling in the sound he makes when you clench tight.

“I know,” he starts to say, his voice gravelly. “I’m sorry, baby, I—”

You move one hand from is chest to his jaw, your fingers spread along the side of his neck. You lean forward just enough that his eyes meet yours, and everything in you buzzes at the lust-filled look in his eye, his parted lips, his heavy breaths. Something possessive and feral makes your heart racket.

“You ever treat me the way you have these last few weeks again, and I swear to God—” the words are punctuated by deep rolls of your hips, long drags that make his chest stutter, “—I will make you regret the day you met me, you understand?”

“Liv, ba—” he starts, and you squeeze your fingers either side of his throat. 

“Do you understand?” you repeat, and lift yourself off him, until just the tip of him is notched inside you.

“Yes,” he breathes, and you slam back down, mouth seeking his, drinking down the groans the spill out of him. Everything in you is tingling, white sparks behind your eyes, your blood singing in your veins. He grabs hold of your wrists and leans up, chest pressed to yours, a grunt on his lips and a gleam in his eye.

The world tilts, and your back hits the mattress, Joel still pressed deep within you. He moves up the bed with you, covers your body with his own. He cages his arms around your head, pushes the hair back from your face. You drag your nails up his back, dig them into his shoulder blades slightly. You want to mark him, you want to shout his name until your lungs give out, you want to—

“God, I fuckin’ love you,” he murmurs to you, his mouth an inch from your ear, hot breath fanning your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “My brave girl.” He rolls his hips, and your back arches off the mattress. “Feel so fuckin’ good.”

You croak his name, tossing your head back as the familiar feeling creeps up your spine, the world being yanked out from under you, everything going impossibly tight and good and—

He grits out your name as you cum, your nails dug so hard into his back you’re sure you’ll draw blood, but Joel doesn’t seem to care, continuing the slow drag of his cock against your every nerve, his face fit into the curve of your neck, peppered kisses at your pulse. It’s just as intense as you remember, with him, that feeling of weightlessness seeping into you, everything relaxing as he keeps moving, seeking out his own pleasure, and you can’t help but clench, spurring him on.

At the last second, he pulls out, making you both groan, cumming hot across your bare stomach, just missing the fabric of his shirt. He slumps sideways, falling onto the mattress beside you, keeping his arm across your body, fingers wrapped around your bicep.

“M’sorry,” he grumbles, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “Wasn’t sure where to…”

You just laugh, moving his shirt out of the way. “It’s fine, Joel,” you murmur, reaching out and stroking your knuckles along his cheek. “We’re good, just for future reference.”

His brow raises slowly. “Hmm?”

“McCoy has a few…habits,” you tell him, sighing when his hand moves up to your face, cups your jaw. “I smuggle his shit in from the outside, and he gets me the pill from the pharmacy in exchange.”

“Why would you—” he starts to ask, but cuts himself off, eyes slipping shut. “Right. Cowan. Of all the guys you could have…”

You slide your head closer to his, until you can kiss him softly. “It doesn’t matter now. None of it.”

Joel grunts, pulling you even closer still, a hotter kiss pressed to your mouth, tongue tasting yours. “You were the only thing that ever did.”

“You’re a romantic, Joel Miller,” you grin, rubbing your nose against his.

He grins back. “Only for women who put their hands around my throat and threaten me like you did.”

You chew your lips, heat sparking between your legs again already, turned to flame when he releases your jaw and lets his hand rest on your thigh instead, fingers curling along your sensitive skin. “Oh, you enjoyed that, did you?”

“Fuckin’ right, I did,” he grumbles, and then his mouth finds yours once more.

+

You’re up just before the sun is.

You don’t bother with the clock, turning back over, burrowing deeper into Joel’s side, the blankets covering you both. He’s sprawled on his back, one arm beneath your head, the other resting on his stomach. It makes you smile; some things never change, and you’re grateful as hell for that.

The pair of you never left the bed last night. After you cleaned yourself up from the first round, it had very quickly devolved into a second and third. Joel couldn’t keep his hands off you, and you couldn’t keep yours off of him, touching and exploring each other until the last dregs of sunlight disappeared. He made you feel things you’d thought were long forgotten, mere memories of what you’d shared in Austin, renewed completely, leaving you reeling.

You lit candles along the windowsill, played music low on the radio — a copy of the same Led Zeppelin cassette you’d once played in Joel’s truck — and polished off the bottle of whiskey. And you talked. 

For hours.

You talked until your voice grew hoarse, and Joel’s just got more and more gravelly with every story he told. There were things he still wouldn’t tell you, things he said he was ashamed of, but you understood. There were some stories that required more than just whiskey, ones you weren’t ready to share. You weren’t the same people anymore, but a combination of new and old, survivors, people who had done what they had to to make it out alive. Make it back to each other.

Joel refused to let you out of his grip, and you were more than happy to oblige, content to stay perched in his lap as you spoke. His hands wandered, along your ribs, over your stomach, brushing the hair back from your face. You returned his touch in kind, palms riding the curves of his chest, the width of his shoulders. Your attention veered off more than once, distracted by his fingers sliding between your legs, lips finding yours, rasped words in your ear.

God, I missed you. Love you. Need you.

And now, waking up, your body not so shockingly aches for more. You cuddle closer, humming happily when his arm curls around your shoulders, head turning and his lips moving across your forehead.  You sling your arm across his stomach, rubbing your thumb across his hipbone. His legs flex beneath the sheets, tangling with your own, dragging you closer.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his eyes still shut, removing his hand up and down your arm.

“Hi,” you whisper back, lifting your jaw to kiss at his scruffy one. “It’s early, go back to sleep.”

Joel groans, burying his face in your pillow, his head ducked beneath yours lips near your ear. “W’bout you?” He squeezes your shoulder. “Stay.”

You have time to make up for, questions that still need answering, decisions to make. You want to assume that he’ll stay with you here, in your apartment, that the bed that has only been your own thus far would now belong to you both. Waking up like this, beside him — a luxury you’d never allowed yourself to grow used to back in Texas — nearly makes up for it all.

But with the threads of sunlight just starting to spark the sky, Joel beside you, the phantom feeling of him all over you, the heaviness of all the whiskey looming in the back of your throat, the guilt comes too, the unfairness of your situation, to one specific person.

Nick.

Joel had asked only once. Only one question, only one thing he was curious to know. And the answer had come so quickly, fallen out of you so fast that the guilt had started there, only to be pushed away by Joel, not by his words or his reassurances, but just his presence.

Did you love him? Do…do you love him?

No.

The answer was easy. And, you hadn’t lied to Nick. You’d never said the words, no matter how many times he’d had that gleam in his eye, when you disappeared out the fire escape, or ran into him out on patrols. It would have been a lie, plain and simple, and you refused to be that person. You had wanted to give him more, had felt like it was something deserved, even if it wasn’t something you were able to give. After five long years, you’d started to resign yourself, half convinced that no one was ever going to answer your radio messages, or walk through those gates, back into your life.

But then…Joel did.

You have to end it, with Nick. Officially. There’s no getting around it, and part of you wonders if he’ll see it coming, if he’s expecting it. In the weeks that followed him bringing Tess and Joel through officially, your stint in lockup, the beating from Angie, you’d made yourself scarce. The weight of Joel’s indifference was one thing, and the last thing you wanted was Nick’s sympathy. It felt false, no matter how you looked at it.

It was a good few days before you saw him on the streets again, and he’d balked at the bruise on your face, the slight stagger to your walk. You gave him the short version, that you’d definitely pissed Angie off at the pharmacy, and maybe you had the beating coming. He’d given you a once over, took your chin in his hand and inspected your face, told to come see him later that night.

“I shouldn’t,” you said, trying not to sound too dismissive, shaking your head in his grip. “I’m staying at Deanna’s, promised the kids a bedtime story.”

“Come after.”

“And get caught out after curfew?” you’d shot back, stepping out of his reach. “The last thing I need is another stint in lockup, don’t you think?”

“Liv—”

“I’ll see you around, Cowan.”

You’d turned on your heel, stalking off in the same direction you’d came, even though it wasn’t where you were going. You didn’t miss the hurt look on his face, the use of his surname rather than his first clearly not what we was expecting, but your face and ribs throbbed with every step you took, and you found you didn’t feel so bad about it.

He’d come by Deanna’s once while you were there. A few words were exchanged, you’d kept yourself busy with a game of Candyland with Emily, and Deanna and Nick talked in the kitchen, their voices hushed. He ruffled Henry’s hair and pinched Emily’s cheek before he left, and ducked down to leave a kiss at your temple. It made your cheeks flare with heat, and you’d followed him out of Deanna’s apartment, caught him in the hallway.

“I never thanked you properly. For getting Joel and Tess through.”

He stopped, dead in his tracks, for just a moment. Turned his head enough that you could just see his face, his hard expression. “Don’t mention it.”

That was the last time you saw him.

You’re reluctant, sliding out of Joel’s grip, out of bed. He makes a noise that sounds nearly like a whine when you disentangle yourself fully, and you lean over him, pressing messy kisses along his cheeks, over his lips, his jaw. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be back.”

“Where y’going?” he grumbles out, chasing your mouth. “Come back t’bed, baby.”

“There’s something I gotta go,” you tell him, kissing his cheek, brushing your fingers through his hair. “I’ll come back and make you breakfast, hmm?”

“Mmm,” is the only response you get, and he’s asleep again, buried in your pillow.

You can’t bring yourself to shed his shirt, so you do up the buttons instead, find a pair of black jeans that are still wearable, shove your feet in your boots. Pulling on your coat, you grab your keys, and pause, turning and glancing back towards the bed. Joel’s still asleep, flat on his back, lips parted, soft snores filling the apartment, and despite the guilt rioting in your stomach, you smile. He looks peaceful, for the first time since you saw him again. He looks like your bed is where he belongs.

You yank your eyes away, slipping out the door as quietly as possible and locking it behind you.

It’s just past the morning curfew, when you step out of the building. The streets are mostly empty, soldiers coming off evening patrols, the day shift switching out. You take the quick path to the barracks, sliding up the fire escape, knocking softly at the window.

Nick’s awake, pulling on his gear, and his eyes meet yours through the glass as he walks towards the window, sliding it open. “What are you doing here so early?” There’s a bit of curiosity in his tone, but otherwise, his voice is flat, unflinching.

“I need to talk to you.”

He steps out of the way, and you clamber through the window, ignoring the ache in your legs, no doubt a consequence of your evening escapades. If he sees you flinch, he says nothing.

Nick goes and perches at the edge of his bed, and you stay standing, near the window. A quick escape. “What’s going on, Liv?”

“I can’t…we, I’m not…” You sigh heavily. Might as well just fucking say it. “I slept with Joel.”

He barks a laugh, and you nearly flinch. “Am I supposed to be surprised?” He leans forward, clasps his hands together, elbows resting on his knees. “When?”

“Last night. I’m sorry, for whatever that’s worth. I don’t expect you to keep…treating me, the way you have. I don’t expect any more favours, or—”

“What would you have done,” he starts, getting to his feet, cutting you off, “if I had said no? If I had refused to bring them through?”

Your back straightens at his harsh tone. You’re not expecting forgiveness, or for this to be an easy conversation, but you already don’t like where it’s going. “I would have found another way. I would have made another deal, or let Angie beat me to death, if that’s what it took. I would have done anything.”

Nick just stares at you, for a moment, those strange eyes of him going dark, nearly black, darker than you’ve seen them in a long time. “You really love him that much.” It’s a statement, not a question. “I never stood a goddamn chance, did I? Could you ever have loved me, like that?”

You shake your head. “I can’t love anyone the way I love him.”

“I never should have fucking…” He trails off, rubs a hand over his face. “Did you ever even give a shit, really?”

“Nick, don’t—”

“Well, now’s the time for honesty, Liv! Answer the fucking question.”

“Of course I give a shit!” you throw back, taking a step forward. He stares down his nose at you. “Of course I care about you, Nick, but this is not…It’s him. I’m sorry, I truly am, but it’s always been him. It’s always gonna be him.”

“Get out.”

“Nick—”

“Get the fuck out. And do me a goddamn favour and keep your smuggling bullshit away from me. I know I can’t stop you, and there’s no point in me reporting you, you’d just rat me out.”

You balk, faltering back a step. “You really think that little of me? You honestly think I’d rat you out after this?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, I do.”

You inhale sharply. You knew it would be bad, but you didn’t think this bad. “I never meant for it to happen like this. I never thought he would show up. Don’t you get that?”

“Just…get out of here, Liv. Don’t come back.”

+

There are tears in your eyes, the whole way back. You take the long route back to your apartment, keeping to the streets, pushing your way through people. Every word Nick had said rings in your ears, your throat thick and your cheeks stinging. You chew the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears from sliding down your face.

When you get through the door, your eyes go straight to the bed, and your heart leaps into the throat when you see it’s empty, the blankets rumpled. A single tears slips out then, and you wipe it away with the sleeve of your coat.

“Liv?” Joel’s voice calls, and your head snaps towards the kitchen, seeing him standing there at the counter, no shirt, jeans still unbuckled. “Baby?”

You throw yourself at him, headlong into his arms, and he catches you, holding you against his bare chest. The tears come freely then, a whirlwind of emotions, and Joel just holds you through it, fitting his face into the crook of your neck, rocking you slightly, one hand buried in your hair.

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[iamnot-crazy]

Stowaway Chapter 10

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Summary:

The reader is a slave to a nobleman due to her devil's fruit ability which allows her to control the emotions of the people around her. She flees to bump into Trafalgar Law and boards his ship.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 11

A/N: I guess I should give a warning for this chapter. It is a heavy one that deals with depression, masking, and suicidal thoughts. These aren't conversations new to OP just new for me to write so ya... I hope y'all like it it was definitely not an easy one for me to write.

------

As you stared at the snail in your hands a small paper fell from the back band on the snail falling gracefully to the ground. A vivre card. You had a jolt of realization as you scrambled to your feet, head throbbing as a torrent of memories flooded back. Doflamingo's voice echoed in your skull, each cruel word a fresh blow to your reawakening self.

You pull yourself off the ground and hold your head as your thoughts race. A ringing bursts through your ear as you try to find a solution to this new revelation. He can find you he has a part of your Vivre card.

You began to stumble across the deck holding your head as it spun. A kaleidoscope of fragmented memories assaulted you: Doflamingo's chilling laughter, the crushing weight of being his puppet. His voice, sharp as a shard of ice, echoed in your mind: 'You will be my tool.' 'The only thing you have of worth is your ability to serve me.' 'You won't be able to run from me ever.' 'You will be what allows me to defeat Law.'

His last statement sat in your head it was the first thing he said to you after he left you in the cellar with no food or water for a week. You still held your stubbornness at the time and Doflamingo used your relationship with Law as the biggest catalyst for your mental break.

Your gaze drifted towards the ship's edge, a silent beckoning towards the churning water below. You stumbled with each hesitant step, your body protesting against the ship's gentle sway. You pull yourself onto the edge. You stood up taking in the salty air and the mist that came from the water hitting the boat and reaching your face. 'you will be the reason he dies.'

The rough wood of the rail scraped against your skin, a fleeting comfort before it slipped away. Gravity seized you, pulling you down with an inexorable force. The salty air whipped past your face, as the waves almost felt like they were calling you as you fell. You close your eyes and accept your body's solution.

A shout, sharp and desperate, pierced through your despair. Your eyes snapped open just as the water rushed to meet you, a cold abyss promising an end. The terror of your action hits you as the water hits your face. You weren't ready or willing to die yet.

As you sink into the sea you turn over to watch the Sunny continue to sail away leaving you behind. Your vision began to go black just as something jumped into the water above you. You reach your arm out begging the figure to save you, you weren't ready. Your lungs burned, demanding air that your numb body refused to provide. A single, desperate breath escaped your lips, a silent plea for salvation as darkness consumed your vision.

The pit in your stomach felt heavy as it pulled you down. It almost felt peaceful as nature attempted to take back the devil fruit inside of you pulling you down faster and faster.

At least this way you can't cause Law any more pain and your suffering can end.

***

You felt a push on your chest and a pressure built in your throat that pushed its way out of you. Your body forced itself to the side as you spit out the seawater that filled your body. The green grass filled your vision as it began to return. You looked up to see you were on the deck of the Sunny.

"what were you thinking!?" an angry voice spoke above you.

Your head snaps up in search of the voice and find the swordsman of the ship Zoro. You sigh in relief that it wasn't your worrisome captain to save you.

You lolled over to your back sitting up slightly while continuing to catch your breath, "Thank you." you sigh.

The swordsman scoffed, "You didn't answer my question."

You look away from him, "I was trying to keep Doflamingo from finding us." you pull your legs up to your chest for warmth as you shiver in your wet cloths.

"and how would jumping off the ship help?" he spoke down to you.

"He made me a vivre card," you admit.

"That doesn't mean you jump off the goddamn ship!" Zoro shouted not even giving your revelation a thought. You look up at him to see not even a flicker of concern. "So what if he can track you we are heading to him anyways to kick his ass." the confidence of the man raised your own as you smile at the thought of them beating doflamingo.

Another thought flew into your head, "Please don't tell Law."

Zoro's brow furrowed in confusion. "He should know about the vivre card," he muttered, his voice low and gruff. 'We need to plan, strategize.

You shook your head, "No about... The whole jumping off the ship thing..."

Zoro sigh before sitting next to you, "Just promise not to do it again."

You nodded in response before staring off at the sea.

"why don't you want to tell him?" he asked pulling your thought out of your head.

"Law has already been through so much and a lot of the pain he has faced was because of me. I don't want him to worry about me anymore," you respond.

"If you didn't want him to worry why do it to begin with?"

"I guess I wasn't thinking of him, everything in my body just wanted it all to stop, the pain, the noise. The thought of him coming back for me terrified me." You bury your head into your knees tears refusing to fall.

Zoro's hand rested on your shoulder, "He won't hurt you again, I promise."

You look up at him, "but what about Law?"

Zoro looked over at the door to the boy's bunk, "I don't think our captain will let anything happen to him either."

You looked over at the bunks as well where the straw hat captain slept and you recalled his strong determination.

Zoro pushed himself up and offered you a hand, "Let's get out of these wet clothes."

You smiled taking his hand and he guided you to the bath he showed you the basics of the large bath and then left you with an old outfit of Robin's which was a long skirt and crop top.

You take the opportunity to bath in peace under the moon light. Feeling the warm water on your skin washing away the salty water pulled a weight off of you as you reflect on your conversation with Zoro.

***

As the first rays of dawn kissed the horizon, you emerged from the bath, the warm water washing away more than just salt water. When you climbed down the ladder you expected the ship to still be quiet with only the soft sounds of the waves hitting the boat. The clanging of dishes in the kitchen indicates someone else was awake.

You make your way to the kitchen by following the smell of cooked sausage. In the kitchen, their blonde cook danced over the stove cooking up a beautiful breakfast. You quietly sat down on a bar stool facing the cook as you watched him gracefully between the multiple pans on the stove each cooking a different part of the meal he was preparing for the whole ship.

When he finally turned around he jumped back at the sight of you, "Oh my sweet you scared me. I hope I didn't wake you?" his voice was still raspy showing signs of waking.

You shook your head in response. Sanji turned around to his domain pulling out a plate and shoveling food onto it, "Here is a beautiful breakfast for a beautiful woman!" he placed the plate in front of you. You muttered a thank you before digging in and the chef smiled before turning back to his work.

As you ate Sanji placed another plate beside you right before the door opened and Robin walked in with a book in hand. She gracefully walked to the chair next you and began to eat and speaking with Sanji who excitedly asked her how her food was.

"immaculate as always Sanji," she spoke joyfully before looking at you and analyzing your outfit, "Is that one of mine?"

You looked down, "I'm sorry I can take it off!" you spoke in a panic.

Robin just laughed, "No please don't, it looks good on you. I insist you keep it." she smiled softly which warmed your heart and you smiled in return.

You continued to eat your food as you noticed that her eyes had not left you. You felt her studying you, dissecting your emotions like a skilled archaeologist uncovering a hidden treasure. You return her stare with a questioning look as she analyzed you taking in every information she could about you. "What?" you speak up.

The woman just shook her head and turned back to her food, "I find you interesting." Your eyebrows raise in confusion, "Just the other day you were void of emotion and now you are flooded with emotions and worry for your captain. And yet the way you sit there you look like you belong here you look almost happy."

Your eyes dash to your plate as you think about her words and your past. "Ever since boarding your ship, I've been feeling all your emotions." You admit, "Your ship is so full of hope I have that to thank." You look back up to her and flash a large smile.

But the two pirates frowned at your response they both almost looked angry. Your smile quickly dropped as you tried to reach your power to feel their intention and you felt their disappointment and empathy.

"Then why try to kill yourself," Sanji spoke abruptly speaking in a tone that was unidentifiable if you didn't just read his emotion.

You froze thinking about your actions earlier and your failed attempt to hide your hurt. A tear starts to fall from your eye, "I wanted to prevent any more conflict." you spat, "How do you even know." your sad eyes dart between the two who share a look at each other.

Sanji shrugged, "Zoro informed me."

"I heard what happened while I was up reading," Robin admitted.

You push yourself out of the stool your mask completely falling your eye bags darken as your frown pulls them down and your eyes become red from the effort to keep them dry. The two pirates realized they had struck the nerve they were trying to pick and watched you with sorrow as you aimed for the door only to be stopped by the door flinging open.

The bouncy captain blazed into the kitchen running past you. You froze as you watched him run to Sanji and fought past him to reach the food. Next Usopp came following after the captain wiping the sleep from his eyes. He greeted you with a raspy morning before pulling himself into a chair at the table.

With the new people in the room, you pulled your mask back forcing a smile and clearing your eyes.

Luffy looked over at you and waved, "Morning, y/n! Come eat breakfast!" He shouted. You smiled in return and returned to your seat glad for a distraction. The two pirates interrogating you earlier frowned but decided to continue their roles.

Shortly Nami, Franky, Brook, and Chopper joined very excitedly for their breakfast. The loudness of the kitchen finally woke Law who ran into the kitchen in a panic as you were no longer in his arm. He burst through the door with his eyes darting around only to relax when he saw you laughing with the straw hats. He made his way towards you but as he approached Nami jumped up grabbing your arm, "y/n! Let me show you the rest of the ship!" Usopp jumped up as well grabbing your other arm and they pulled you out of the room.

Law frowns as the three of you push past him laughing. Law was glad you were laughing and smiling again even if it wasn't with him and let you go. He turned to the rest of the crew claiming a plate and chair. The chef and archaeologist watched him carefully.

You were pulled through the ship by the two pirates who excitedly showed you their favorite parts. You found where the swordsman has been hiding in the lookout tower where he slept with an empty plate beside him seemingly his breakfast that Sanji brought him.

Throughout the tour, you conveniently avoided Law as he tried to catch up just as you would pull the crew to the next location. You were amazed by everything the ship had to offer and you showed that with amazed gasps and a large smile.

Robin and Sanji watched from afar both seeing through your mask.

By the end of the tour, you were exhausted and had found a quiet spot at the back of the ship by the garden where you could watch the Straw hats laugh and play on the grassy deck but not be spotted. You watched while Law glared at them as Luffy dragged him into their fun.

You wanted so badly to smile as you watched your 'edgy' captain looking so odd amongst the crew of joyful sports but now that you were away from any supply of joy. The weight on your cheeks pulled your lips into a deep frown your tears free to fall as you hid behind the mast.

Tears streamed down your face, hot and unchecked, as you huddled behind the mast. Wrapping your arms around your knees, you pressed your forehead against them, seeking solace in the familiar warmth.

A prickle on your neck sent shivers down your spine. You knew Robin was there before you even turned around. "I don't need your pity," you spat, your voice trembling slightly as you felt her emotions cover you.

Robin's voice softened. "I'm not here to pity you," she said, each word carefully chosen. "I came to apologize." She slowly emerged from her hiding spot, her blue eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and sorrow.

she found her place next to you, "I can never relate to what you have been through but I can relate to wanting to throw everything away for the people you love. It was wrong for Sanji and I to try to push you like that but we didn't like seeing you hurt alone."

You looked away from her, "I don't like it when others worry about me." You spoke plainly.

"Is that because of your powers?" She asked gently, "I noticed you'd mimic the emotions of the people around you."

You frowned, your brows furrowing into a deep crease, "Maybe," you muttered, "It's easier to pretend to be hopeful when you can steal that emotion from someone else but when everyone else is full of anxiety..."

"You feel anxious." Robin finished for you, her voice laced with empathy.

You nodded, "I used to wear gloves with sea prism to avoid feeling other people's emotions but now I don't know if I can feel any emotions without latching onto someone else's."

"But you are feeling your own emotions," Robin said softly, her blue eyes meeting yours with a newfound understanding. "They just aren't bright right now. It's okay to feel sad, angry, scared. We all carry those burdens. It's easier to pretend like your emotions don't exist and that you have to latch onto someone else's but you still have trauma you need to move past. Just like the rest of us."

You paused at her last sentence, "the rest of you?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked down at the joyful crew dancing as if they never faced a hardship before in their life.

You knew how hollow Luffy had felt when his brother died, but he was dancing and laughing as if that day never happened.

Robin nodded, her gaze unwavering. "All of us have faced some kind of dark past that we are all working to put behind us," she said, her voice filled with a quiet strength. "I too wanted to die, I thought there was nothing more I could do with my life, but then I met Luffy. He has saved me twice from myself."

You wanted to push Robin away, to retreat back into the shell you'd built around yourself. But a tiny flicker of hope, fueled by her words, threatened to crack through the facade.

You looked off at the crew, a small smile gracing your lips even as tears flowed down your face. For the first time, you allowed yourself to feel everything – the joy of being alive and safe, the sadness of having your life stolen so many times now, the panic from knowing you were risking everyone's lives by being alive, and the overwhelming relief of knowing that you would be protected. It was a whirlwind of emotions something you were glad to feel again.

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Next Chapter

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A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

[stevetonyweekly]

Cap-Ironman Rec Week - Better Together - Monday

It’s day one of @cap-ironman Rec Week! Today’s theme is Better Together. My goal is to share 3-5 fics on theme every day and as you can see--that might happen late at night. Let’s see what I can do, and if you haven’t checked out the tag, do!! 

~*~

Where Our Restless Monsters Sleep by Mizzy

Years after Tony Stark saved the universe, the Avengers realize there’s a major problem: his body has gone missing. And he isn’t the only one. Fallen heroes all over the galaxy have had their graves pillaged.

An old foe is stealing the bodies of fallen warriors, but for what nefarious reason? There’s only one solution. To find out why it’s happening, Steve’s gotta die.

He probably shouldn’t be so eager to do that.

my thoughts: I loved this fic, even though the worms creeped me out. The way Steve was so incredibly fucked up and also surprisingly well adjusted can’t be ignored. And then there’s Tony and Nat and god I love them. Read it. 

Homefront by copperbadge

Steve Rogers is a capable leader, a kind and cheerful man, a good friend, a strong role model, and a loyal soldier. He's also teetering on the edge of suicide.

my thoughts: The way that Steve quietly struggles and Tony helps him through that is very dear to me. 

[Podfic of] When The Lights Go On Again by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid, kalakirya, KD reads (KDHeart), lattice_frames, lavenderfrost, miss_marina95, Opalsong, paraka, Superstitiousme, vassalady

Aliens have invaded earth, and the Avengers are scattered. While Steve leads the resistance, Tony once again finds himself playing captive scientist. In the midst of a violent alien regime, separated by seemingly insurmountable boundaries, Steve and Tony have nothing to keep themselves going but each other.

my thoughts: does it count if they’re not actually together? This podfic (which is AMAZING) is very team oriented, and SteveTony spend most of it separated as Tony is held captive and yet--they communicated often and they work together through that and it’s so great, because it’s so team oriented and fantastic. I loved it. 

Relativistic Heat Conduction by BlossomsintheMist

Age of Ultron-based, but not entirely canon compliant. Written for the 2013 Cap-Iron Man Reverse Big Bang. Ultron has attacked, obliterating most of the world's superheroes and resistance in a matter of hours. The remaining heroes band together and share what strength they have to get through it, to survive, and defeat Ultron once and for all. Steve Rogers grieves in the wake of the disaster and the heroes' defeat, and no one knows if he will be able to provide the leadership they need--but Tony Stark isn't about to let him slip away that easily.

my thoughts: this one hurts. From start to finish it hurts. But I think if either of them were alone for this, instead of leaning on each other throughout, it would have been unbearable and a helluva a lot more tragic. Which. Is saying a lot.