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nexusnyx · 2 years

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No One Like You

#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 2 — The night your lips touched mine for the first time. “Wait. Come back here. Do that again." Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader; [3.2k]

⚠️ Smut (explicit depictions of sex), drug consumption (weed), mentions of death, depression, nightmares.

SUMMARY: The electricity in the air was not a creation of your desires, it turned out. When Eddie looks at you, there's something there. You might have been absent for a couple of years, but you've known Eddie Munson almost your whole life. He's looking at you the way he looked at Sweetheart when he first laid eyes on it, and being under that gaze is... nothing like you expected. More than anything you could've dreamt.

It rained outside of Eddie’s room—a heavy pouring with only a handful of thunders, but no loud lightning startling to shake the earth and startle the air in electricity. Only the sound of water falling on the soil outside, and the occasional notes as Eddie dribbled his fingers on the cords while you two spoke. Rain had always been your favorite sound, the one that spoke to your soul the most, but now, after not seeing Eddie for two years, you think his voice is on a battle field for that first place.

You’re high on drugs and the smell of him, your heart is louder in your ears than the shower outside right after he speaks and everything falls quiet sometimes, and electricity shooting from the sky is unecessary when you can feel every inch of air that separates the two of you.

It started because the conversation descended down there. To the thing.

“I was a wreck after you left, Y/n.”

It hurt to hear it. You had to, but it hurt.

“I know it wasn’t your fault,” Eddie adds, seeing the look on your face. “We just go where our folks go. What else we can do but follow, right? But—I was. You were the only real friend I’ve ever had.”

Two years apart from him, and now it was back to how it was. “You think I wasn’t a mess, too?” Only Eddie Munson could make you talk this easily. Not keep shit bottled up on the inside. “Eddie, I didn’t make any friends there. Not a single one.” You were happy he had—not so happy about the circumstances, but it thrilled you to know he wasn’t alone all this time because you were. Leaving Hawkins left an Eddie-shaped hole in your chest, and he could see that in your face, too. “And I promise I tried. But everyone fell… short. I kept expecting them to get my jokes, or get what I’m talking about, and I’d get so fucking disappointed when they didn’t. Took me almost a year to realize I was just hopinh somebody would be you and how fucking shitty is that?”

Because you’re you and Eddie is Eddie, he leans in to whisper, “That’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” like a confession. His smile is deprecative when he adds, “I just deemed nobody would ever be you, never in their fucking wild dreams, and then accepted what came.” He slides his fingers through the cords of the guitar. “Guess that’s why I managed to gather Hellfire. They’re really nice boys,” he adds, softer than ever.

Happy Eddie makes you happy. “I bet they are.”

“You’d eat them alive, though,” he adds like it’s a shame, then opens a blinding smile. “I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

“I’m really happy you found them,” you say, voice only a whisper. Spending these last three days almost glued to Eddie’s side had been good—educative, and worrying, and a roller-coaster of emotions, but good.

Suffocating, too.

You’d forgotten what his eyes do to you.

If before you wanted them on you at all times, now it’s become a problem that could evolve into an addiction.

He verts his eyes to the guitar.

"I'm happier I have you," he chuckles lightly.

The words dance around your head, bringing havoc to every inch inside of you.

Eddie keeps talking through your silence. "I don't know what sort of odd stroke of fate led me to have that luck, and I'm happy for it. But... I missed this. You." He looks up, smiling so softly that it should calm you down, but it only raises your heartbeat. "No one sits with me in silence and watches me practice. I mean—I don't think I can sit in relative quiet with anyone else. I've been waiting for the gong to go off and for me to wake up out of nowhere, but..."

Here we are, it goes unsaid.

"Ever since you told me that you almost..." you're unable to say the word. It'd make it too real, and you're trying to keep your hands off of him—if you admit to yourself you almost lost him, you're never letting him go. "I wait, too," you finish with a whisper. "For you to just—not be here. Out of nowhere."

Eddie takes a good look at you before placing Sweetheart on the floor in front of the bed with care.

You watch him move—watch his fingers reach for the half joint on the ashtray, his lighter inside his front jeans pocket, his waist inching closer to yours until your sides are touching, bodies pressed next to each other.

Your eyes travel up until they find his gaze on you. Breathe, you remind yourself. In and out, shuddering, you manage it. He's never been this close.

There's a palm of air separating your faces.

His body's heat is solid, almost palpable as it touches yours.

A flame appears in your peripheral version, and Eddie lights up the join, inhaling slowly.

If this were two years ago, you two would be laughing and coming up with the craziest topics to make the high even better.

As a clap of thunder crashes outside, you're reminded that it's now.

Eddie's changed.

He passes you the joint after a couple of puffs, but none of you seem able to let go of the silence. It covers you both like a blanket fort hides you in the living room when you're a kid, in plain sight for everyone to see and, yet, somehow still in its own world.

He noticed, you think.

It must've shown in your face the sea of feelings that's been keeping you underwater since arriving at Hawkins.

Wave after wave, Eddie drags you under.

I missed you, and the taste of salt.

Please don't freak out, but, I did some shit. I've got some stuff to tell you, and there's not enough air before you're pulled under.

I almost died. And you embrace the blue surrounding you.

You pass him the joint back, feeling the telltale signs of the flood in you wanting to pour just like the one outside.

If there's one thing you know Eddie hates, it's to see people cry. Averting your gaze to his lap, you look at the hands you wanted to hold for so long, and watch as they come up in your direction.

His left-hand cups your face, and you want to let it all out.

"Hey," he calls your attention. Once your eyes are on his, Eddie looks at you, open and waiting. "Talk to me, sweetie."

It does something to you. The nickname, it pulls at your strings, and it's new and terrifying. "Eddie," you breathe out. "What would I've done?"

His brows furrow in confusion, and you're no longer trapped. You're floating, and if he's this close to you, he won't mind if you reach out to him.

Tentatively, your hand reaches to cover his wrist. You keep his hand there on your cheek, and your eyes close when you ask. "If I'd lost you." I would've gone back to the sea. "I... I wouldn't have it made it, Eds." You're the only one who makes all of this bearable. "I can't think of—"

The words are cut off from you, but not because of another crash of thunder, or the fear in your guts—no.

Your lips are closed shut by another pair of soft, plump lips pressed against yours, and everything else is white noise.

Your whole mind is taken over by the tunneling feeling of Eddie's lips on yours, and there's no air in your lungs or movement in your body.

Whether it takes two seconds or minutes for him to pull back, you're unsure. All you know is that one second his lips are on yours, and the next, you feel the chill air replacing it and that's what pulls you back to the moment.

With open eyes, you see Eddie pulling back slowly, his face an open book that you've read many times by now—fear is written around his wide eyes, that dread that paints his eyebrows whenever Eddie does something wrong and is unaware of what, exactly.

He's pulling his back even further, and that unfreezes your body. "Wait," he can't back away now. After years of only dreams, he can't take this away from you after giving it like that. Your hands are on his t-shirt in a second and you ignore how breathless and shaky you sound at what you say next. "Come back here. Do that again."

Eddie looks at you and the fear leaves.

"You sure?" he asks.

You nod, pulling him by his shirt.

When his body presses on yours again, the need swirling in the air, crashing your mouths together, it could rival the sky's anger when lightning follows thunder.

Your heart starts beating so fast you worry it might try to run away from your body, and the weed only highlights every part that's in contact somewhere.

Eddie's mouth is on you, and it's nothing like you dreamt.

When he pulls back for air, the words spill out of you. "I dreamt about this." It's a confession, and his smile to it is blinding.

Both his hands take a second cupping your face, and you're taken over by the feeling of safety of being held by them. They're big enough to cover a good portion of your face, and you want all of your body to be covered by Eddie.

He laughs, inches apart from you. "I think I'm dreaming," he mutters under his breath.

It's nothing like in your dreams because it's better.

Because in here, when you lean your face in search of his lips again, Eddie grants them to you. There's nothing pulling you two apart, and he doesn't laugh in your face or gives your a sad, pitiful look.

It takes you a few moments to realize it, but Eddie wants you.

The realization pulls a broken moan from your throat, and his response is immediate.

Eddie holds your face tighter, and you nibble on his bottom lip as he pulls back this time. "You're such a good kisser, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

"Thought only that thing over there got the honor of that nickname," you tease, feeling surprisingly lighthearted under the weight of his eyes. You nudge your chin towards where Sweetheart is by the side of the bed.

Eddie's scoff is only made hotter by the fact that his eyes stay on you. "That thing's got nothing on you," he tells you.

You breathe out, shakily.

One of your hands leaves his clothes and you lift your fingers to his face, the tips stroking around his eyes, his cheeks, running down to his lips.

Eddie kisses them as they pass by, and that creates a hunger you never felt before.

It's similar to the one in your stomach after spending many hours without a single drop of water or any food—it grows in the center of your chest, warm and alive like someone planted a special item there.

When you and Eddie are pulled close again, it's by a newfound gravity.

He kisses you with so much intent that you lose all notion of the room surrounding you.

The sound of the rain hitting the windows and the fog in the room due to the smoke make you whimper when your eyes open, when his lips start kissing on your neck and your core begs you to spread your neck for him.

It's you who lays down on the bed, pulling him on top of you, and Eddie goes willingly.

The kisses are more desperate than the hugs you two gave when first encountering each other.

Running across the parking lot, through the same trailers you knew and some you recognized of two years ago, all you could think about was touching him—no regards for what it would look like for everyone else watching when you jumped on his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as if you two had been separated for a decade or something more.

Eddie kisses you like he gets it.

He kisses your neck with soft, deliberate kisses, and you notice his hand is shaking when they get underneath your shirt.

You're both shaking.

Eddie pulls back when you grab his hair and call his name, "Eddie," and having those breathtaking eyes set on you as fire blazes behind them—you want to cry. Instead, all that comes out is a watery smile. "I—I really..." I've loved you since I learned what love is. I'm terrified of everything you make me feel half of the time. "I love you a lot. You know that. Right?"

Eddie looks like he's hearing the words for the first time.

He adjusts his body on top of yours, shaking his head to himself as he closes his eyes and his hands stroke your neck and sides.

When he opens his eyes, Eddie crowds your face with his curls. He rests his forearm next to your head on the pillow, and keeps looking at you before he says,

"I knew I was lucky, but... not this much—no." Eddie's dimples pop as his signature happy smile opens up. "I love you too," he adds, smile softening.

That's good, you think.

I can live knowing that. I can swim in it. I can let it take me over like a current because it's where I've always wanted to be.

After that, there aren't many words, but you learn that the body talks in more than one way.

You knew the empty, hot, and messy kind—the body talk where two people use each other until there's nothing left but pleasure and white noise.

This is none of that.

Kisses with Eddie are shared languidly until they're not anymore, but even in their lusty haze, you and Eddie are not seeking the peak of pleasure in one another.

All you want is to taste him, and that's all he wants from you, as well.

When your skin starts burning under his ministrations, Eddie pulls back to ask with a nod if he can remove the clothes creating a barrier between him and your body, and they all fall to the floor, piece by piece.

Yours, his, all of them, until you two are staring at each other with faces painted red and that momentary hesitance—a pause before the major note, before—

lightning.

Eddie's touches on you can be felt all around you.

From the tip of your toes to your neck, your chest; when he reaches between your legs with his hands and starts running the tip of his fingers on your inner thighs, you're whimpering.

"Is this good?" He asks you as his fingers brush over your outer lips, coating themselves in the wetness coming out of your cunt. "Tell me how you like it—tell me how to make you feel good."

"You can definitely keep talking, for one," the joke comes out strained—Eddie's fingers are thick. "Fuck."

Everything he does feels good, but that's not what he wants to hear.

Eddie laughs when you complain, whine, and slap his sides, just writhing your body against his hand, and it feels surreal to laugh in the middle of all of this, but he looks the happiest you've ever seen him.

"Hm? Harder? Or... deeper?"

Not only does he want to hear exactly how you like it, but he delivers it how you ask him to once it's out in the air.

Eddie keeps his kisses coming, and when you find the motor skill to push a hand between your bodies and grab his cock in your palm, both of you groan at the same time.

Time truly means nothing when it comes down to it.

Eddie pushes his fingers in and out of you, swallowing every sound that comes out of your lips while you stroke him until he's leaking at the tip, and it feels like a lifetime.

A lifetime where you learn that you like the taste of his sweat — or at least you do when you're the cause for it — and that Eddie is a whimpering mess in bed, just like you dreamt that one time.

He's strong, too, but when you beg him to get inside of you, Eddie turns his open gaze to you and asks in an almost embarrassed tone, "Can you—you can say no, but—go on top? Please? I—I'm trying really hard not to make this end a lot sooner than we'd both like and if I get lost in the momentum when on top of you, I might not—"

You turn him around with a leg hooked around his waist, and both of you laugh at his look of pure surprise when his back hits the mattress.

"Fuck—you're hotter than Hell, sweetheart," he groans, pulling you in for a kiss.

He gets the condom, but lets you slip on it, and when he lays down again, you're the one who stops to admire it this time.

The messy, wild hair, glued to his forehead and cheeks with sweat, the way he looks flushed and blissed out.

It's a little bit of torture to feel him like this for the first time, but not in a bad way.

More like—your mind running thousands of miles an hour as it tries to wrap its head around the fact that he said he loves you, too, and no, this isn't just a dream or an experience.

It's electrifying when Eddie plants the heels of his feet on the bed and meets your waist with a thrust, then holds your waist with both hands to guide you two into a rhythm.

As a musician, that's something Eddie has.

Rhythm.

Maybe it's one of your heartbeats or one with the rain, or maybe there's a song playing in his head as his hips make sweet movements when meetings yours.

It's bliss, either way.

It's his hands slapping at your thoughts, it's one of them coming to wrap and hold around your neck, it's the way Eddie starts grunting and dropping your name like a plea the closer you two get.

Being with Eddie is not a mindless search for that white noise, but there's something more powerful than just pleasure, you find out that night.

Something about the way he holds you close and looks straight into your eyes as you two cum, because he wants to see and feel you, and that's all you needed, truly.

The rain pours outside, and you sleep to the sound of it, laying in the hold of Eddie's warm, body sedated and marked in purple and red bruises.

The sun will shine tomorrow, and there'll be more love to come.

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kariachi · 14 days

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Okay, going by UAF canon (because OV canon just took 90% of things we learned regarding Kevin and threw them in a fire), Kevin's mom. This woman.

She goes grocery shopping, so that she can host her son for dinner. When she comes back, his precious car is parked out front. Her house has several broken windows and a massive fucking hole where the front door used to be. And so she presumably leaves her vehicle (because that certainly doesn't look like the sort of area that has stores close enough to walk with a load of groceries) and gathers up the groceries before heading inside.

This woman is either the least observant or the most unflappable person in this show. Those are our options- either she did not notice that her house had been ransacked while she was out despite the hole, or she did and was just like 'yeah that might as well happen'.

"But Achi, Harvey said Kevin wrecked their old place so maybe she just expects it" Please stop for a moment, and consider. You arrive at your house to find your son's car parked outside. Where the front door used to be, there is a truly massive hole. You believe this to be tied somehow to your son.

Is your immediate reaction to bring in the groceries?

That's what gets me. Because no matter what way you slice it, this is not a situation where a normal person 1) wants to have their hands full, or 2) is thinking about the goddamn groceries. Like I said, that doesn't look like the sort of area where you'd be walking to a store and back, odds are she had to start unloading a car. She would have had to get out of her car, see the big-ass hole in her house, and proceed to unload groceries. Even assuming she's blaming this on Kevin, either her son is wrecking her house or somebody has shown up to attack her son in her house, and in either case she grabbed the fucking groceries before investigating.

Whether it's due to Kevin, whether it's just her, I don't know, but this woman either has a negative perception modifier, or is entirely unshakable.

#ben 10 #kevin levin #ben 10 analysis #barely counts but i own this blog so guess what

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ziggyz-eyepatch · 1 month

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Some kinds words on grief.

"Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks."

-Reddit stranger

#grief

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korie3000 · 2 years

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a strong urge to finger heizou while under a desk during night hours... heeeheee he would be so formal and fancy but to you hes just a boy waiting to be wrecked...

semi=public? getting caught while fucking? yes!

"hi, what brings you to the tenryou commission headquarters at this time?" you could hear heizou's voice from above you. he had been staying pretty late at work these days, so you insisted on sitting under his desk to "stay in his presence". heizou was too pure and kind-hearted to guess what you were up to, anyways. whenever you two did something sexual, it felt nice. it made you feel soft and fluffy inside; loved. too bad he fell in love with a whore, though.

"hey, i'm looking for somebody named arataki itto. would you happen to know his whereabouts?" a stern, cool voice asked. you could hear a hearty chuckle from above you, making your heart melt. waiting for the conversation to end felt like years, and finally heizou gave the speaker their files and they left.

"(y/n), you should go home. i'll be here until midnight." heizou looks under the desk, smiling. "come on, you've been here for hours. surely you aren't bored reading the one book you brought?'

"i'm not bored. how can i ever be bored when i'm with you?" you roll up his pants, kissing his inner thigh. he stutters, face blooming red.

"i believe this isn't the appropiate time for such affairs," heizou mutters weakly, squeezing his thighs between your hand. to him, that was probably an innocent gesture for you to stop, but that only fueled your desire even more.

you pry his thighs open with force as he yelps, clearly having expected you to stop as he asked. "we might get caught! anybody could come here now."

"nobody comes here at this hour, anyways," you tug his pants down so it just barely exposes his sex, "they're lucky that they get free tickets to the show."

heizou cries out loudly as you suck on his erection through his boxers, soaking them and pulling them down to expose his cock. "you say you don't want it, but this little guy looks pretty excited." heizou coils into himself, embarrassed but still opening his legs. you take all of him at once into your mouth (if you were going to be honest, that was really easy to do), hollowing your mouth and swirling your tongue around his heat while prodding at his hole with two of your fingers. they slid in easily, the slick letting you thrust smoothly.

"(y/n), slow down, i'm almost going to..." heizou trails off, clearly not wanting to say the word. "hnngh! too much-!"

his bach arches as he clutches the armrests on his seat with a crushing force, cumming all over his clothes. his chest is heaving, and he's looking at you with a slightly annoyed expression.

"aw, come on. don't be like that, cutie. we've got to clean up before somebody else comes~" and with that, the door behind you two opens.

#sub heizou #bottom heizou

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69misato69 · 9 months

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can I request a prompt in which somebody is a transmasc character who’s not particularly bottom dysphoric but is uncomfortable with the idea of being penetrated, and/or possibly a top/dom? the characters can be whoever you want, I just don’t see enough transmasc characters who aren’t submissive bottoms and I think your writing is amazing so I have no doubts you could pull it off

i agree. thank you for this noble quest and your kind words. i hope it is to your liking.

top zhongli 🐉 x bottom childe 🐳

⚠️ cw: light bondage / sensory deprivation / praise and degradation, penetration, sub-space

ajax loves the feeling of it.

the softest, finest silk in all the land. nothing but the best for him. it's cool, soothing against his eyelids and temples, lapping around his head.

though he can't see, it must be knotted with a pretty bow right above his nape.

never a plain one, always elaborate and elegant over his eyes, around his neck or his ankles.

a gift best enjoyed like this: wrapped up, tied down, restrained. controlled by the one he can always count on to take good care of him.

only this time, it's a bit frustrating. he's atop strong, resilient thighs — contrary to his own which twitch and quake with every thrust.

soft velvet around his wrists, a vision that's fully blacked out, strong hands keeping him in place and a thick strap tearing his hips apart.

it's a good time. it could be better, though. if zhongli would fuck him all the way through, wrecking ajax where he needs him.

a few minutes, sure. it's only normal. but this, this drives him insane. it's like having his favorite meal when he has a cold. it's incomplete. tie him up neatly and stretch his hole for almost an hour for this?

"i—please... a bit... just..."

god, he sounds so desperate. even when his eyes are veiled he can feel how zhongli is barely breaking a sweat, possibly reveling in the pathetic sight in front of him with a fond smile.

"rambling like that won't get you anywhere, i'm sure you know."

"deeper." he takes a deep breath before speaking.

"why?"

he sounds so genuinely curious. if he didn't know any better, ajax would almost believe him to be clueless.

"you know why! just come on and—"

he snaps, only to regret it immediately at how stern zhongli sounds all of a sudden.

"that's enough. impatient and rude. i don't think i taught you anything of the sort."

the sides of his lips curve downward, involuntary puppy eyes concealed under the blindfold.

"do you think the pout is working?"

"is it?"

"absolutely not."

zhongli is taken aback by his unexpected and fussy state. "is it my fault for spoiling you rotten, ajax? you seem to think that you're entitled to this."

he holds ajax's chin, a strong grip.

"i was... on my best behavior."

"i know that your best behavior isn't humping me like a rabid dog the second i enter through the door."

now that ajax thinks about it, it truly was strange how zhongli didn't even question it.

i missed you zhongli. only that. followed by wet kisses as ajax dragged him to their bedroom and climbed to his lap. zhongli, stripping him — no questions asked. quiet, calm and collected.

he licked into ajax's mouth.

blindfolded him, tied his wrists on his back, fingered him until ajax was crying for the toy circling around his waist.

until he was so weak and needy to have zhongli's fingers and lips where they belong — on him, inside of him. entangled in his hair, inching through his flesh.

consumed by lust, overjoyed with how his prayers were answered one by one — ajax only realizes now that he has to pay for it.

zhongli lays him on the mattress and settles between his legs. a sudden loss of stimulation, but an enticing growl close to his ear.

zhongli's warm breath tickles his insides — "i'll have you as my heart desires. my pretty toy, mine to take. mine to play with. understood?"

every word is torture for his poor heart, even worse for his dick begging to be attended.

yet, he utters a "yes" with all that he's got.

"come on then. do it yourself since you're not satisfied."

ajax feels him pull away, standing up straight on his knees again. his body resting on his wrists, straddled by zhongli's thighs. "how?" inevitably he asks.

"i'm sure you'll figure it out. meanwhile, do tell me why you were in such a hurry today."

ajax takes a moment to raise his hips. he's unstable, wrists slipping to the sides, throwing off his balance every few seconds. the strap loses his hole constantly, eliciting frustrated sighs from his throat.

"i wasn't lying. i had missed you." he complies with the second part of zhongli's order.

"i thought about you all day... at work... i almost broke down in tears when i returned and you weren't home."

thinking back to a few hours ago pains him and embarrasses him beyond belief. pacing through the corridors with the erection he hid with his jacket the entire day.

suddenly he gives up on trying and plops onto the bed, causing zhongli to raise a brow.

airy, floaty, barely piecing his sentences together. he's fading out, slipping into his space purely out of his need for zhongli.

"keep me here all night, if you wish. i'll take it, i'll wait. i'll—" his breath hitches, "—deserve it."

it means nothing without zhongli. it's not a ploy or a trick, ajax is already too far gone to pretend. he's ecstatic and euphoric, ready to take it.

zhongli is more than satisfied with the answer, defiance turned acceptance.

even amidst this fog, he knows how much zhongli needs him too.

he holds ajax's ankles together, placing kisses on his calves before throwing them over his shoulder. not one on each side like he usually does but instead, still together on one side.

there isn't much of a space left inside of him, it's so tight when his legs are pressed together.

ajax would wail with every thrust if he wasn't all softened up and unraveled. but with the pain canceled out, all that remains is the pleasure of zhongli handling him like a toy, fucking him like one — merciless and ruthless, the way he promised. somehow, still so tender.

the strap pierces through him, finally massaging his prostate and abusing it deliciously.

ajax's wrists no longer hurt despite still being crushed under his body. his hips, he can't even tell that zhongli holds them tight enough to draw blood.

there is pleasure. drool dripping from the sides of his wistful and hungry lips. a hand around his leaking cock, occasionally coming up to squeeze the sides of his throat.

he's alive, burning under zhongli's fingertips. squirming for his master. releasing over and over again for him until he's shooting blanks.

"good boy. you make me so proud, ajax... my pride and joy." he coos.

it goes straight to his heart and into his cock, enlarging beyond its limits in zhongli's grasp.

"my adorable pet... how well you take me."

lustful tears induced by his praise are held back by the the blindfold. the edges of it soaked, though not even remotely close to how drenched ajax is.

zhongli watches him attempt to get up, to reach towards him to the best of his ability.

"a kiss? is that what you want?"

with every scene he feels ajax grow more devoted. never forgoing his mischievous ways but finding a strange sense of joy in having them tamed — even if it's for a few hours.

zhongli leans down, fingers brushing against his wet, reddened cheeks.

"you've earned it." he presses a gentle kiss on ajax's salty lips, "one last time for me. okay?"

#fandom asks #completed request #zhongchi #genshin zhongli #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #smut

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karatekels · 7 months

Text

Disorderly Conduct - Chapter 2

Sorry this is late, everyone (though technically, me being aaaaall the way on the West Coast means this is still posted on Day 4!) - I've got some unfortunate family stuff that's possibly going to impede my ability to write. But we will soldier on!

Previous Parts:

Part 1

TW: (This chapter) Police corruption, violence

---

Chapter 2 - Reconnaissance:

---

You grimace as you experiment with your movements; you hated the feeling of wearing a wire taped to your skin. Fortunately, you’ve elected to wear baggy clothes, different from the prim, proper, more form-fitting clothing that people were used to seeing you in, so at least you weren’t restricted by your movements and could (hopefully) adjust the hidden camera and microphone as needed. The platinum blonde wig may be overkill, but you aren’t willing to risk being recognized prematurely.

You were going to figure out what that arrogant, dismissive son-of-a-bitch was up to, before the bastard got himself killed.

You pull up your hood, completing your disguise, and get into your rental car. It was the first of your scheduled days off, and after they ran out you had booked off a week’s vacation, just to be safe. You know that Cash is jumpy and paranoid these days, and you don’t know how long it’ll take for you to find out what he’s up to; you have to move slowly, and you can’t risk spooking him.

You aren’t taking any chances.

You’ve been feeling this strange sense of guilt-ridden giddiness since you started plotting how to do this, going behind the Chief’s back – behind anyone in a position of authority’s back, you think – for the first time in your life.

Ideally, you’d just catch Cash in the act or planning on doing something stupid and then nagging him until he agreed to get his shit together. The recording devices strapped to your body, peeking out from a couple of the button-holes in your shirt, they were just a contingency plan. You weren’t past snitching if it kept the jack-ass alive.

The first several days are simple reconnaissance.

In other words, you sat in the rental car with its tinted windows, your binoculars, and a stash of food, waiting for Cash’s silver pick-up to drive by, leaving the busier part of the city for the backroads. You’d follow him with your binoculars until you couldn’t see the truck anymore, then relocate to that area, slowly inching your way closer to… wherever it was that he was spending all of his time.

On the fourth day, you watch the truck turn down an isolated driveway, waiting awhile until it seemed safe to slowly drive past, looking at the dilapidated building over your shoulder. You make note of the address on the faded mailbox, heading home the long way, doubling back to make sure you weren’t followed.

You take the rental car to the strip mall across the street from the precinct, waiting until you see Cash show up for his night shift. Once he does, you call a cab, getting it to drop you off just down the road from where Cash had been holed up – you couldn’t very well leave a car nearby.

Creeping along the treeline, you don’t see or hear any sign of life in the old house and decide to cautiously approach. Doing a quick perimeter check, you predictably don’t find any points of entry that are accessible.

You’ll have to break in. Fortunately, you were prepared for this sort of thing. Sliding a spare bobby pin out from under your wig, you pick the lock to the front door quickly, slipping inside and re-locking the door behind you.

You’re limiting yourself to using a flashlight rather than risking switching any of the lights on; you didn’t know if Cash had anyone watching the premises, and even though the windows were almost completely boarded up, you didn’t want to risk any light seeping through and alerting somebody to your presence on the property.

The place is a wreck, somehow managing to be both destitute and slovenly. Still, you do your best to case the joint, looking for any sign of what he might be up to, but the place yields no information whatsoever. It’s a simple, one storey rancher, comprised of a kitchen, a small sitting room, a bathroom, a bedroom and a storage room.

What the hell could Cash possibly be doing, spending all his free time in this dump? It certainly wasn’t renovations.

As if on cue, you hear tires on gravel outside, the glow of headlights casting shadows through the wooden planks covering the windows. Peeking out, you recognize Cash’s truck.

Oh, fuck.

Trying not to panic, you dive through the French doors into the storage room, figuring it was the one he was least likely to use, trying to blend in with the random furniture and other assorted crap tossed in here. The doors had been closed when you’d arrived, and you shut them now, grateful for the barrier between you.

The front door opens, and a hazy light comes on in the kitchen. You hear the clinking of bottles being put in the fridge, but Cash is otherwise quiet. He had always moved quietly, despite being such a large person.

Keeping one eye looking through the boarded up doors, you quickly check the time on your flip phone. It wasn’t even two in the morning; his shift shouldn’t have ended until four. What the hell was he doing here?

His own cell goes off, and he answers it before the second ring ends. You press the buttons on your microphone and camera to start recording, just in case; you hope the former doesn’t pick up the thudding of your heart.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I just got to the house. Thanks for the cover. Good thing there are so many B&Es these days – plenty of opportunities to disappear for a few hours for investigation.”

Cash chuckles at something the caller says, and his long shadow comes into view before he himself does. The sight of his handsome profile, even partly obscured by the wooden planks, sets your heart off. You know that he will be very, very angry if he finds you here, and you didn’t even know what he was up to yet.

“I’m telling you, the place is deserted; not another house for at least a mile in either direction. When I came by earlier today there was one car that drove past. In three hours! It’s the perfect place for the drop.”

You’re fairly certain that it had been your car that he’d seen, and that piece of news makes you feel justified in all of your over-the-top decisions. The rental car, the disguise… you have no doubt Cash would have recognized your car had it driven past, and you’re relieved you took the precautions you had.

“The guy said he’d drop it off in the next 48 hours; I’ll get a call when he’s got a time nailed down. I’ve got the stuff here to weigh and repackage, and then Ray’ll take it to his connection to get it distributed. Once we cut the guy in, we should be making out with 20 grand each, easy. And no one will know about the swap; it’s not like anyone’s testing the drugs once they make it into evidence.”

Well, that sounded an awful lot like he was dealing drugs, however indirectly. And it sounded like more than one other officer was in on it.

“Well, let me know if you hear anything while you’re on duty. Bye.”

There’s a bitter taste of disappointment and anger in your mouth. Cash, a dirty cop? Before his suspension, you would have found the idea completely unfathomable. Now he was stealing drugs from evidence to sell on the street?

You’re almost upset that you’re here, recording this. You’d have to turn him in now – it was your job.

You had been way off in your suspicions about what Cash had been up to; he hadn’t been planning to redeem himself for whatever the hell he’d done last year, but was instead doubling down.

Had he been lying to you the whole time you’d known him? Had you ever actually known him? Or was this just a result of the suspension? Had it messed him up so badly that all sense of duty had abandoned him?

You’re not sure you want the answer.

What you do want is to get the hell out of here, pronto. You’d thought that Cash would be mad if he caught you when you thought he was up to something self-sacrificing, and shudder to think of what he might do if he found you here now.

The idea makes you shudder so hard, in fact, that you jostle one of the knick-knacks off of the shelf you’re crouched against, and it shatters when it hits the floor.

You fight the urge to close your eyes and go to your “happy place”.

There’s a prolonged silence, and then Cash comes around the corner again, this time wearing a ski mask that conceals his face. Well, except for his eyes. His eyes are darting about as he takes in the darkness, a hand on the holster at his hip.

You don’t have your firearm with you; you hadn’t imagined it would be necessary for your well-intentioned intervention.

Before the suspension, Cash had never scared you, despite his size and his ability to go from goofy to intimidating at the drop of a hat. It had come in handy in interrogations, but you’d never had it directed at you.

Since returning from his suspension, his goofy demeanour had disappeared, and you mostly saw him silently brooding around the precinct, but even then you’d still felt confident that he was on your side.

Looking at him now though, as he approaches the doors that you’re hiding behind, you are seeing him for what he is: a terrifying, unpredictable giant of a man, armed (and very capable with a weapon, you knew), and with quite a skewed moral compass, if his prior conversation had been anything to go by.

He opens the doors suddenly, as if to catch you by surprise, and you don’t move.

You don’t even blink.

You watch as his piercing blue eyes scan the room, thankfully leaving the light off – that meant you had a sliver of hope that you wouldn’t be spotted.

But you have no doubt that he’ll be thorough in the search, and you know you’ll have to take any chance you can, the moment you see an opening.

He bends to examine the broken teacup on the ground, and you make your move.

Adrenaline surging through you, you run towards him, bringing your knee up to his nose. Having taken him by surprise, you make contact, and he drops to his knees to clutch at his face with a pained scream, giving you the opportunity to hurtle past him and make for the door.

You only have to get down the hall, to the kitchen. You don’t know what you’ll do once you make it outside, but you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it.

Unfortunately, you never do.

A large hand closes around your ankle as you move to run away, pulling you back in one sharp motion that has you falling down flat, twinging your wrists as you hit the ground hard. You try to kick back with your free leg with a yell, but he’s suddenly on top of you, using his weight to pin you down. The air is knocked right out of you, and you can’t speak.

“Cash,” you choke out, trying to push out any remaining breath in you to help you say his name, but nothing comes out. “Cash!” you huff out desperately, but he doesn’t hear you.

“You picked the wrong house to break into, sweetheart,” he growls, a hand shoving your head down onto the hardwood roughly. He grips your hood, and the hair beneath it, intent on pulling your head back and slamming it back down again, but as he tugs something feels off to him, and he freezes.

The gentle way that he pulls your hood down off your head stands in stark contrast to the rest of the situation, and as he tangles his hand in the cheap strands of fake blonde hair, pulling the wig off of your head, he lets out a sharp intake of breath.

Were the situation completely different, you might find yourself flattered by how quickly he recognizes you just from the back of your head alone. As it stands, you’re just hoping that maybe, by some miracle, he decides that the fact that it’s you means something to him.

Lifting his weight off of you slightly, he rolls you over as you gasp, your body’s sole focus on getting its much-needed oxygen. You stare deeply into his eyes, the only part of him not concealed by the mask, and you lose track of how many emotions you see flit across his face through those icy blue orbs as he stares down at you: anger, guilt, confusion, regret, sadness… He seems to settle on anger, glaring at your teary, red face like it offended him somehow.

“Fuck.”

That’s the only thing he says, the word coming out as a hiss, before you feel a gloved hand come up to your neck, finding the pressure point there just as you’d both been trained to do, and you quickly feel yourself start to lose consciousness.

‘Fuck’ is right, you think to yourself as your world fades to black.

---

Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

#thomas ian griffith #cash #cash x reader #black friday 2007 #the kidnapping 2007 #dark desires october #disorderly conduct #eventual smut

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things-i-tell-my-cats · 8 months

Text

Post in memory of Diamond the tortoiseshell cat

Diamond is a loveable and cute kitten. I adopted her from a yardsale her and her littermates were being given out at. The owner told me her name is Diamond because of a marking on her forehead. It's shaped like a Diamond.

I adopted her around late April, early June. I've had her until today (8/17/23).

I wrecked my bedroom's cleanliness to make sure she could break nothing, I made everything as safe for her as I could. I dealt with her waking me up late, and keeping me up half the night. I dealt with her rough play, her screaming meows. I even dealt with her stupidity, and..her constantly running face first into walls.

She was a really playful and hyperactive kitty, every waking moment she wanted your attention. She'd even wake you up in the middle of the night for it. You couldn't keep her away from food bags, or her food bowl. Every night I had to refill it in the morning, so I kept a gallon plastic baggy of cat food on my shelf to fill it whenever she wanted.

It's still there.

She always looked out the window, she always wanted to see the outdoors. So, after she grew up more, we put her out so I can sleep of a school night.

She found a way under the house, and I had to pull her out when she started screaming. I don't even remember how many times I had to crawl under the house to get her out, but she kept going back under. She refused to eat for 2 days, and all she did was go under the house and scream at us on the inside. The third to last time I pulled her out, I went and blocked all the holes with concrete blocks that she could've been using to get under the house. The second to last time, I crawled under the back porch and dragged multiple cement blocks with me (one at a time). It was muddy, had many cob webs, there was glass spewn about, there was so much shit that nobody in their right mind would've gone down there with. And, on the plus side, I can't smell but rarely, but for a split second I smelled rotting wood. So I imagine it was 10x worse for somebody who has a working sense of smell.

I stained my clothes with mud and mold, I crawled under there in the mud and in everything that was down there. I bruised and got myself cut up, and dead spiders in my hair. I took two hours of my afternoon on a school day to block off EVERYTHING, with heavy amounts of cement blocks.

And she went down there again.

How? I don't know. But it took her 2 hours this time, so she was actively looking for somewhere to get under there from. At this point, my mum has already heard her screaming down there all day for almost 2 days and Diamond was going to continue if she stayed, so we took her off and dropped her by a nice neighbourhood, leaving her.

I was wondering so much why she acted the way she acted. And it was because she had brain damage. Either she was hurt by the people running the yardsale, or she was born with it.

I spent all summer, and sacrificed my entire sleeping schedule, for a cat who had brain damage, who I only ended up not keeping anyways. I climbed under a porch that felt like it was suffocating me every second, just to keep her--I even hurt myself in the process. I did so much for her, I did everything I could, but I have limits. I had to give up.

But that summer spent with her, despite me not having so many good memories..i grew really close to her. And I love her. I couldn't help but sob afterwards, I couldn't even hold it in, I tried.

I hope that someone in that neighbourhood finds her and feeds her or takes her in. But she didn't recognise her own food bowl she was using all summer long. Instead, she tried to eat pebbles. And I know she was eating random shit off my room floor when she was in there..cuz she threw up alot, and I had to clean it.

I hope that wherever she is now is alright. I hope she'll be fine. Maybe someone could take her in and find out how to feed her, who knows?

I'm going to miss her so much, and I already do. I sat here and sobbed alot, and I'm tired. I'm really fucking tired.

(Main account: @samijami I might not use this one much anymore)

#tw sad shit #tw sadness #poor kitty #im sorry

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theonlyoasis · 2 months

Text

“Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people l've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life. Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out. Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves.

And lots of shipwrecks.”

#q #m #w

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sail-away-to-space · 8 months

Text

Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

-GSnow (Reddit comment)

#grief #grief comes in waves #I'm still grieving my dog #reminiscing #love #my dog #reddit #waves #feels #feelings #sappy #death #share #gem

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sunsetofdoom · 11 months

Note

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

[grimaces] I am really good at dialogue! And complex choreographed scenes (sex, fighting, body language, blocking) aren't absolute hell for me to write, for some reason, which I'm given to understand most writers struggle with. I love them. It might have something to do with how I see everything happening more like a movie.

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

It changes a lot with character voice. I try really hard to match the voices of the character's POV, so I have to get good at different voices really fast with each new hyperfixation, lmao.

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

(Answered here)

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I keep being torn about wanting to find people to talk about The Owl House with, and wanting to stay buried in my hole of anonymity because that fandom sounds like a trash fire. But I'm disconcertingly in love with all the fucked-up characters that they introduced and then gave rapid character development to so that I didn't get nearly enough of them being grasping wrecks that I could put into pringles cans and shake. So. Have a story concept where I basically tip pre-character-development Amity, Hunter, and Willow into a big jar and then pound on the glass.

Willow leaned on the wall outside the throne room, staring at her shoes, waiting to be called and introduced. It was like the first day of school, only much, much worse. She swallowed, hard, willing her stomach to settle down. At least at school, there were familiar faces, however unfriendly. Here, she had nothing and no one; under the vaulted golden ceilings, she’d never felt more alone in her life.

Her head whipped up at a noise, on the jump. Relief rushed her- the one familiar thing in the whole world was that golden mask, and the boy behind it. “Hi,” she said, barely more than a whisper, as the tall silhouette of the Emperor's Golden Guard strode past in the crossing hallway. He was probably too far away to hear it, but that was fine. He’d be in there when she entered, and she could look up and find him.

Improbably, he stopped, the mask coming to face her with a blank stare. He carried his staff slung over one shoulder, almost casually; why would he carry that around in what was basically his house? The gold mask was a little unnerving, but Willow looked right into the slitted eyes and waved anyways.

Checking over his shoulder, he turned, coming over to her. When he was sure no one was looking, he tipped the mask up, resting it under the cowl so she could see his face. Pale and angular, with serious eyes, he checked her over with a concern so intense it felt like anger.

“Are you okay?” The question was more of a demand.

Willow tried to make herself smile, and failed. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up,” she admitted.

Hunter’s face softened, and he bit his lip. “Yeah,” he said, fiddling with his hands. “I get that, too. You don’t. Uh... usually.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly. “That helps.”

He wrinkled his nose at her. “Just remember,” he said like a lecture, “Walk like you’re better than everybody in that room.”

“'Chin up, shoulders back,'” Willow quoted him from the flight here. “But- I don’t feel like I’m better than anybody.”

Hunter shrugged, the staff bobbing up and down on his shoulder. “Um. I- when it’s... hard. I like to, um. I try to look at somebody I do know I’m better than. And pretend they’re the only one there. So.” He smiled, sheepish, the gap in his teeth visible and making him look his age for a cheerful moment, and when she looked at him skeptically, he cast his eyes to the floor. “...Usually it’s Kikimora. She’s pretty pathetic.”

Startled into a huff of laughter, Willow glanced back to the huge, heavy doors. “I don’t know...” she said, her smile fading.

He tilted his head, contemplating. “The Blight girl’s in there. With Darius. You’re a lot less of a suck-up than she is, I can tell you that.”

Willow laughed, bitter and cold. She pictured Amity’s perfect snub-nosed face, looking down on her for years. Very cruel, and very... small. A girl who cried when her older siblings bullied her, but couldn't wait to turn around and needle somebody else in retaliation.

Yeah. Willow was better than that.

(fic writer asks)

#toh #owl house #sorry to anyone looking for like. real content #i'm debating doing more work on this piece #probably will keep adding to it a sentence at a time #until something else strikes me

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yoongyeah2910 · 2 years

Text

Free Baby- Sope

Yoonseok - smut

Notes:

Free use, bottom Yoongi, dom top Hoseok

Chapter Text

Yoongi hated working out. He was exhausted but knew he needed to keep going. Even more so when he wanted to show off for his boyfriend who just walked in.

"Done yet?" Hoseok asked, coming up behind him.

Yoongi was lifting weights. He did a couple more before setting them down and saying, "No."

Hoseok put his hands on his shoulders. Neither of them spoke as he trailed them down to Yoongi's ass. Hoseok went under his clothes and squeezed.

"Hoseok..." Yoongi started. He was too tired for this.

"Mm-hmm?" Hoseok replied. He spread his cheeks, making Yoongi bite his lip. Yoongi felt a finger on his hole. "Baby, what happened to the plug?"

Yoongi's chest tightened. "You said for a few days... I thought that meant two." He mumbled.

"You know you gotta speak up with me." Hoseok told him. He pushed down Yoongi's clothes.

Yoongi took in a sharp breath. He was sweaty, so the cool air was nice, but it was too exposing. His hands felt awkward at his sides, yet he knew he couldn't touch Hoseok. Yoongi looked to the door. Their gym was private but that didn't mean somebody couldn't come in.

"What should you have done instead of taking it out yourself?" Hoseok hands drifted to the front his legs, grabbing his inner thighs and widening his stance.

Yoongi stepped out of his clothes so he could move. He felt Hoseok's erection pressing against him. "I should've... asked you first."

"Mm-hmm. Good boy. Know what your punishment's gonna be?" Hoseok asked as he started pumping his cock.

Yoongi closed his eyes. He had to think, since Hoseok had many. How was he supposed to know which one? "You're not gonna let me cum?" Yoongi guessed.

"That's right." Hoseok whispered. He moved away once Yoongi was fully hard.

Yoongi refrained from complaining. He was pushed down to lean on the bench. He hung his head and prepared himself for the pain.

He gasped when he felt Hoseok's tongue on him. Yoongi moaned as he licked his hole. His knees weakened a bit, since he can't remember the last time he was eaten out, but he quickly corrected himself.

Hoseok kissed down his taint to his balls. Yoongi didn't want to be too loud in case a passerby could hear, but that was easier said than done. He arched his back as Hoseok sucked on one.

"Delicious." Hoseok whispered and moved away.

"Thank you..." Yoongi murmured. And he wasn't just saying that—he was used to only getting a quick fuck.

Hoseok spat on his hole. Yoongi heard him spit again, presumably for his cock. Yoongi was hoping for some prep, but, naturally, there wasn't. He winced when Hoseok pushed in.

"Mhm, perfect as always." Hoseok said, holding his hips as he thrusted.

Yoongi's eyes brimmed with tears. He gripped onto the sides of the bench, his knuckles turning white. It became pleasurable soon, the feeling of Hoseok's cock surpassing the sting. Yoongi moaned quietly.

"Ngh, fuck, baby..." Hoseok grunted.

Yoongi moved to his elbows. He set his head on the bench and closed his eyes. Hoseok pushed up his shirt and held his side, the other hand's fingers digging into his hip.

"How good to I feel, kitty?" Hoseok asked, leaning down closer to his face.

Yoongi turned his head to the side. Even if Hoseok wasn't hitting his g-spot each time, he still felt wrecked. "S-so good, baby, so fucking good..."

Hoseok grinned. His thrusts became harder, making Yoongi whine.

Yoongi was tired before they started, so he could already feel his legs weakening. He shifted as he tried to hold himself up, which made Hoseok's grip tighter. Yoongi eventually fell to his knees.

"Get up." Hoseok ordered. He kept standing; he had to pull out when Yoongi moved.

Yoongi did even though it hurt. His legs shook but Hoseok entered again as soon as he could. His knees gave out when the pleasure washed over him. Hoseok slapped his ass, making him yelp, and pulled him up. Yoongi put most of his weight on him the rest of the time.

They didn't speak, instead filling the room with moans, pants, and the sound of skin hitting skin.

Sometimes, Yoongi wished they didn't have a relationship like this. One where Hoseok uses him whenever he wants. The only time Yoongi didn't like it, though, was when he wasn't in the mood. He's rejected him a few times, when he really wasn't feeling it, but usually lets it happen. He was glad their romantic side was still healthy.

Right when Yoongi felt his orgasm building up, Hoseok came. He grunted loudly, his grip as tight as it could be. Yoongi felt his load shoot into him.

Hoseok pulled out and Yoongi collapsed to his knees again. His cock was throbbing and leaking precum.

"Good boy." Hoseok said, giving him a light spank.

Yoongi stayed on the floor as his boyfriend redressed. He realized how awkward it felt to be wearing shoes with no pants.

"Thanks." Hoseok bent down and kissed the top of his head.

"Thank you." Yoongi whispered.

Hoseok was heading towards the door, but stopped when he heard him. "How many times am I gonna tell you to speak up?"

Yoongi's chest tightened. "Thank you." He said louder. He didn't like making him mad.

Hoseok didn't say anything. Yoongi watched him leave out of the corner of his eye. Hoseok's cum started dripping from his hole, making him shiver.

Physically, he could get himself off, and Hoseok wouldn't know. But, mentally, he knew he couldn't. The guilt would crush him.

Yoongi had to clean himself and the gym, but exhaustion was kicking in. He was sitting on the floor at the end of the bench, his arms on it with his head resting on them. His eyes were closed, and Yoongi could feel sleep start to envelop him.

He'd hate to be found like this, but he was already asleep.

When he woke, he found himself in his bed. He was also in pajamas and didn't feel gross from dried sweat. Yoongi sat up and noticed Hoseok getting ready.

"Did I really fuck you that hard?" Hoseok asked when he saw him awake.

Yoongi whined and laid back down, shoving his face in a pillow. Hoseok only laughed. Yoongi's heart swelled at the thought of Hoseok taking care of him.

+bonus+

It was late, but Jeongguk couldn't sleep. Naturally, he went to work out.

He opened the door and froze.

Jeongguk would've stopped staring if he could have. But this was definitely something he didn't see everyday.

Yoongi was leaning over a bench wearing only a shirt and a pair of shoes. Jeongguk noticed a small pool of white under him. He felt his face heat up.

Jeongguk said his name. When he got no response, he realized he was asleep. He promptly left and went to find Hoseok.

"Go get your man." He said when he found him.

Hoseok was getting ready for bed. "What?"

Jeongguk thought he would've known, so he didn't know what to say.

"Something wrong?" Hoseok asked. His voice didn't sound concerned.

"He's passed out half-naked in the gym."

Hoseok's eyes widened a bit. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I'm not working out with him in there like that, so go get him." Jeongguk told him.

Hoseok raised his hands in surrender. Jeongguk watched him walk away and went back to his room to wait. He wanted to talk about what just happened, but Taehyung was asleep.

After a while, he heard Hoseok come back. He'd started getting sleepy, so he stayed to listen to them. There were the sounds of drawers opening and water running, but no talking. It was a little odd, but Jeongguk realized maybe Yoongi was just a really heavy sleeper.

Jeongguk laid down next to Taehyung. Taehyung made a noise, and it sounded like he was awake.

"If you ever fuck me until I fall asleep, please don't leave me there." Jeongguk whispered.

"What?" Taehyung mumbled.

Jeongguk smirked. "I'll tell you in the morning."

"Okay." Taehyung replied. He turned and cuddled up to Jeongguk, who cuddled back.

------------------------------------END-------------------------------------

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theaverewrites · 2 years

Text

Yokai and Yaksha - Playlist & Note

𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

i'll die anyway. - girl in red

✧.* I reach for me, but I'm not there

It's so lonely, but who cares

It's fine, it's okay

I'll die anyway

Juliet - Cavetown

✧.* Sometimes I act like I know

But I'm really just a kid

With two corks in his eyes

And a bully in his head

Exhale - Laureli Amadeus

✧.* Show yourself to me someday

I will be speechless

But for now let me

Lay it all down

As It Was - Harry Styles

✧.* In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

Million Years Ago - Adele

✧.* I know I'm not the only one

Who regrets the things they've done

Sometimes I just feel it's only me

Who can't stand the reflection that they see

Cat And Mouse - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

✧.* Am I supposed to be happy?

With all I ever wanted, it comes with a price.

Am I supposed to be happy?

With all I ever wanted, it comes with a price.

Hole In The Heart - Rachie

✧.* That’s why a hole had opened up where my heart is

Pounding, my heartbeat tried to fill up the nothing

But when i tried to say it loud, the words that left my mouth

Were nothing more than excuses

Hawk In The Night - Madds Buckley

✧.* Sharpen your talons and fight

Claw at the world as it claws out your eyes

We raised you right

Hawk in the night

Overfly - Amalee

✧.* Hands up high

Raise them high

And cast your worries to the sky

If you can't stand, then take my hand

Recently, - Liana Flores

✧.* But recently

Everyone says they are seeing less of me

I could do better if I had energy

Be like I used to be

Old Friend - Mitski

✧.* You'll meet me at Blue Diner

I'll take coffee and talk about nothing, baby

At Blue Diner,

I'll take anything you want to give me, baby

Should've Been Me - Mitski

✧.* Cause, I haven't given you what you need

You wanted me but couldn't reach me

So you went into your memory

Relive all the ways you still want me

listen before i go - Billie Eilish

✧.* If you need me

Wanna see me

Better hurry

'Cause I'm leaving soon

brutal - Olivia Rodrigo

✧.* All I did was try my best,

this the kind of thanks I get?

Unrelentless upset

They say these are the golden years

Crossing Fields - Amalee

✧.* I know your strength is what I lack

You've got my back and now that I've got yours

I have you to thank for lighting up the dark

Because you're here with me, our dreams will soar free forever

Meteor Shower - Cavetown

✧.* Missing pieces of my skull

I'll sew on patches of my own soul

There's nothing you or I can do so let the stars fall

'Cause from up here the sky's my thoughts and we're all so small

A Burning Hill - Mitski

✧.* And I am the fire and I am the forest

And I am a witness watching it

I stand in a valley watching it

And you are not there at all

Fourth of July - Sufjan Stevens

✧.* Did you get enough love, my little dove

Why do you cry?

And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best

Though it never felt right

Line Without a Hook - Ricky Montgomery

✧.* Baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you

I need you here to stay

I broke all my bones that day I found you

Crying at the lake

Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny

✧.* But when he loves me I feel like I'm floating

When he calls me pretty I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

rises the moon - Liana Flores

✧.* Oh-oh, close your weary eyes

I promise you that soon the autumn comes

To darken fading summer skies

Breathe, breathe, breathe

Thought Crime - Rachie

✧.* The birds cry out their song in the sunset!

The empty ache I feel starts to sing a swan song too

And yet you linger still in the shadows, standing on your toes, sky a flaming red hue

Slipping off my tongue was my goodbye to you

1. Constructive criticism is okay as long as it is legitimate feedback and not just hate.

2. There are a lot of musical references in this story, particularly in reference to the songs listed in the earlier chapter.

3. Please refrain from overly sexual comments.

4. The Xiao that I write is more akin to his Chinese portrayal than his English one. In other words, he's going to be more apathetic than angry.

5. The reader is based on a Japanese mythological creature. It's not a completely accurate representation, as they're only based on that creature, but quite a few of their characteristics have been adapted.

6. The reader is referred to using they/them pronouns, but may present as mostly feminine.

7. This takes place in the canon universe, and thus has canon level violence.

8. This story has topics that are not suitable for everyone, such as themes of grief and trauma, abandonment, and minor s/a. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable, I suggest you click away now.

9. This story will be posted on wattpad (@-AEONSTYX), Ao3 (@aeonstyx), and tumblr (@theaverewrites). Any and all updates about this story and others will be posted on wattpad, so I suggest you follow me there to keep up with changes.

10. Genshin Impact is owned by Hoyoverse. Please support the official release, and enjoy this fan-made story.

#theaverewrites #genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao #adeptus xiao #xiao fluff #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #genshin fic #genshin impact #genshin fluff

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francesderwent · 2 years

Note

Here's a question I feel you're uniquely qualified to answer: what Taylor Swift song (s) do you associate with Frankie and Bobby? 👀

a WONDERFUL question!!!

I think this accidentally turned into a “what Taylor songs are most straight-forwardly romantic” post, but, hey, if the shoe fits

my new top Frankie-and-Bobby song is “Run”—it just has the exact right vibe!! the gentle softness combined with the impulsivity, the certainty that is at the same time courage! it’s commitment as adventure!! it’s knowing that the world is coming after you but driving down the hill through the green and the sunlight, free and laughing! highlights: “and my so-called friends they don’t know I’ll drive away before I let you go, so give me a reason and don’t say no” “there’s a heart on your sleeve, I’ll take it when I leave and hold it for you” “there’s been this hole in my heart, this thing was a shot in the dark, say you’ll never let them tear us apart”

next up: “tis the damn season” and “dorothea”. these songs could BE a modern AU of Frankie and Bobby. it’s all there: the childhood friendship, the long absence, the tentative attempt to find some kind of new equilibrium in the relationship after so much has changed, the feeling that it’s all just “for the weekend” or until the crisis is over even though they wish it could be forever—there’s even the modern equivalent of the class tensions with Dorothea going off and getting famous!! plus, Bobby just gives me Dorothea’s beau vibes. the kicker is that in both cases, the heart of the relationship is two people who know each other better than anyone else does. highlights: “wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I’m faking” “if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know, you know, you’ll always know me”

I actually kind of think they’re “Cruel Summer”? in that they’re spending all this time together and it’s easy and they understand each other, but they’re also very much not talking about what they mean to each other. they’re just going along like it can be casual and easy like this forever, but you can tell the secret of it is killing them both in different ways—Bobby because he thinks their being together is impossible, and Frankie because she so badly wants to fight for them and have it be real, to fully bring him into her world with her. if they hadn’t been interrupted, that conversation about last words would definitely have turned into “I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard” highlights: “what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more” “we say that we’ll screw it up in these trying times, we’re not trying”

this is maybe more so for book!Frankie, but “Daylight”. Frankie is somebody who’s been disillusioned by the world. when we meet her she’s already in retreat, going back and forth between London and Marchbolt and equally dissatisfied with each. she’s just trying to pass the time in a life she already decided was meaningless. but the events of the story change her not because something exciting finally happens to her, but because something finally happens to her with someone real at her side. the revelation for her is Bobby! highlights: “I don’t want to look at anything else now that I saw you, and I don’t want to think of anything else now that I thought of you” “threw out our coats and our daggers because it’s morning now, it’s brighter now”

“willow”, mainly because it has so many mystery metaphors in it, open-shut case, bait-and-switch etc., but also because it’s about somebody sweeping in and changing your whole life! it’s definitely from Bobby’s perspective. highlights: “wherever you stray, I follow, I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans”

“Fearless”. I’m always a slut for the dynamic “pining whilst in a motor vehicle”, and Fearless is actually kind of a car song?? who knew. highlights: “we’re driving down the road, I wonder if you know I’m trying so hard not to get caught up now”

“Come Back…Be Here” is included on this list wholly because of the line in the book that’s just like “He missed Frankie abominably” and the bit in the miniseries where Bobby says “I thought you were in London” and she answers “I was, now I’m not”. highlights: “the delicate beginning rush, the feeling you could know so much without knowing anything at all”

it would be remiss of me not to mention “Mary’s Song” and “It’s Nice to Have a Friend”. even if these songs don’t have the same obvious obstacle in the middle of the story, progressing straight from happy childhood to happy end, I think the essence of the thing is still there!! highlights: “something gave you the nerve to touch my hand” “a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town, then you looked at me and got down on one knee”

Taylor’s “I found the love of my life and guess what, guys! he’s normal!! and it makes all this other abnormal stuff worth it!!!” songs: “King of My Heart” and “Paper Rings”. highlights: “say you fancy me, not fancy stuff. baby, all at once this is enough” “I want to drive away with you, I want your complications too” “in all my dreams, you’re the one I want”

“Gorgeous”. enough said. highlights: “if you’ve got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her. but if you’re single, that’s honestly worse. cause you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts”

#asks #thanks for sending this!!!!#I always love an excuse to google the track list for Taylor’s entire discography #wdtae

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adultswim2021 · 2 years

Text

12 oz. Mouse #12: “Enjoy the Arm” | October 23, 2006 – 12:45AM | S02E05

It's business as usual on the 12 Oz. Mouse show. We start off with Mouse in space with Skillet in the Corndog craft that he swiped from Roostre. They still have all the guns, which is nice. Mouse looks at the planet from outer space. The craft runs out of fuel and starts falling back down to cardboard city. They crash into a tall building, 9/11 style (ka-ching!).

Shark is still trying to fix his car. Shark has the hood up and he's filled the engine block with various meats and cheeses for some reason. Square is sitting in the driver's seat attempting to get the car to start. When Shark tells him to turn the key some oil squirts onto Shark's face. Question Woman wanders through the scene. Square notes that she's going to “save mouse, I guess”. Shark requests a towel. Square refuses, because “you're becoming black now”.

Spider is playing the piano, more music notes fly off. Roostre asks Spider to untie him and hand him a guitar. Spider doesn't unite him, yet, but he does hand him a guitar.

Peanut cop is drunk and laying on the ground. Golden Joe is with him. Peanut wants to find guns to play with. Peanut Cop can't find his hat.

Liquor is on a stage in his store doing stand-up comedy. The only audience he has are the Eyes. He makes an observational joke about the town being made of cardboard or something. Then he makes a joke about a hat store that sorta peters out and doesn't go anywhere. Oddly enough, Peanut was just talking about losing his hat. Could this be foreshadowing? MIGHT PEANUT COP BE GOING TO THE HAT STORE SOON? MAYBE NEXT EPISODE MAYBE?

Question Woman finds Mouse and Skillet in Roostre's wrecked corndog ship. She asks Mouse what he's doing. She falls over. Mouse tells Skillet to fix her head “like Terminator”.

Roostre, now completely free of Spider's web, plays a song for Spider, references an Agent K. An alarm goes off and a panel in the cave wall goes up, where we see a surveillance monitor displaying his corndog ranch/compound. He finds out that his guns are gone. Roostre tells Spider to “fire up the Corndroid”. Apparently they are now a team.

Shark and Square are driving around again, sniping at each other. Shark ejects square. Square falls back down with a parachute, and taunts Shark.

Back to Liquor doing stand-up. He is in the middle of telling some joke about how “there were three ships, not two”. Then he tells a joke about a husband receiving a bow tie for his birthday, which mirrors some version of Mouse's backstory; at least it's the version that we saw in a simulation Shark was putting him through. I think he says something about a screaming letter. What's all that about? I don't know.

Mouse is back at home, I guess. I mean, I'm assuming. I don't really know where he is. Skillet is operating on Question Woman while Mouse puts the clock radio from last episode in his wall, which has a perfect clock-radio shaped hole. It opens his closet. So, I guess he knew about this clock radio this whole time? It might've been his, I guess? When the closet opens he notes that all the clothes he owns are there, which is true for most people and their closets. But he also notes that “somebody wrapped them up” (they do appear to be in cellophane or whatever, if you look closely). So maybe he isn’t home? The scene ends with Question Woman's surgery complete. She is now a cyborg and is full of guns. She blasts a target that has lowered from the ceiling. Mouse instructs Skillet to find a fire to cook some meat and then find some meat to cook on it. A key falls down.

Liquor's stand-up is still going poorly. Not even the classic “give me a hand” gag (he still has the hand in a jar) works. He goes into another room to tell the Shadowy Figure that “They're not buying it”. One of the Eyes notes that “someone sounds mad back there” (referring to Liquor squabbling with The Shadowy Figure, whom he just told to “suck it”). The other eye sprouts a muscular arm and brandishes a shot gun. “YES. SOMEONE DOES.” He says with a deeper voice. END.

12 Oz. Mouse goes from being a delightful gift with standalone scenes to frustrating real quick. This seems like it's weirdly bogged down by story, yet I truly am not sure what's happening. Episodes seem to follow one another but they all constantly seem like they are setting up brand new ideas that don't go anywhere, really. I'm ready to be pleasantly surprised, but this episode was mostly a chore to get through. This show tries to be Lynchian, but if an episode doesn't have a Lady-in-the-Radiator type scene then it tends to feel like a waste of time. I guess we'll see where it's all going.

vimeo

Smoking Gun TV (October 23, 2006)

Remember the Smoking Gun website? It was a big deal in the early internet days. I never really cared about it; from what I remember it was mostly about celebrity gossip and most of it's content came from court documents. The very idea of a “cool website” seems so foreign nowadays anyway, but back in the day instead of every piece of information being on either wikipedia, a specialized wiki, or found on a website that ports over all of it's information from wikipedia. But I remember The Smoking Gun being considered a cool website, though it never brought me joy, enriched my character, or brought closer to god's grace. So how cool could it be?

The show actually debuted on Count TV in 2003. Information on the original version of the show is scant, but I remember it featuring a lot of comedy talking head people mined from places like I Love the 80s (and other decades), Best Week Ever, etc. My only memory of this iteration of the show is Mo Rocca showing a clip on some talk show, where he was investigating a lawsuit involving a stripper. He was receiving a lapdance from a stripper with big tits, though I remember it being a robot stripper or a crash-test-dummy style simulation? I forget all the context, but I remember thinking the show seemed like a dud so I never tuned in.

The show also featured quasi-animated segments re-enacting celebrity scandals with puppeted dolls. I think Primetime Glick did the exact same idea before this show did. Anyway, these are the haziest of memories, but I spent about 15 minutes googling this information and couldn't find it, so you'll have to take my imperfect word for it: I believe the Smoking Gun we saw on Adult Swim was actually a recut version of the show that dispensed with all the human talking head segments and ONLY had the doll re-enactment segments. It’s also 15 minutes instead of 30, which is how long I assume the Court TV iteration ran.

The show, like the website, is unfunny retarded trash and I am glad it only ran for two weeks. They burned off 8 episodes of the show in two weeks, airing Monday-Thursday. I think I MIGHT HAVE RECORDED IT out of some sense of duty? Like, I just knew that the show would specifically NOT last. But I also might've spitefully deleted or thrown out the recordings of them because good god, this show sucked.

MAIL BAG:

Sometimes I feel like the people who mail you are Joe Flaherty in Happy Gilmore just shouting "jackass" at you. What show did you bad mouth to piss them off?

I guess if I’m being honest I invite this kind of behavior by being selectively rude and dismissive and informal. Being these things bring us no peace. I will never know peace.

I think Master Shake is funny as hell!

I saw one where he yelled at Meatwad “DANCING IS FORBIDDEN” LMFAO

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #12 oz. mouse #smoking gun tv

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scarlet-traveler · 2 years

Text

I wanted to post a fic wip for WIP Wednesday before the day ended but I don't have any good chunks from my current wips at the moment, so today I shall bring you a concept.

So I'm a huge fan of Deku and Bakugou's friendship, I've been interested in seeing how it develops as the series continues, and after reading a bunch of fics and vibing on MHA with my sister I've come to realize that one of my favorite takes of their relationship is that when the dust has settled, everything that's happened to them in the past has been discussed and their friendship is well on the mend, they still have their...chaotic, moments, I should say.

Izuku and Katsuki are a lot of things- heroes-in-training, extremely traumatized, in need of therapy- but they're also stupid teenage boys. So they'd be ride-or-die when one of them is wronged by somebody else, either it be a rando on the street or a villain, but that rivalry that they have will also extend beyond their hero work.

So during the day they're trying to get the highest score on that afternoon's training exercise, or wanting to capture more villains than the other while out on their work studies, but at night they're holed up in one of their dorm rooms trying to crush each other at Mario Kart while Katsuki swears loudly and Deku tries in vain to make him be quiet before Aizawa hears them.

Aizawa has always known about their game nights, but they still make it to class on time and they do well so he hasn't said anything about it. Yet.

Izuku has forgiven Katsuki for everything that he did in the past, never personally held it against him, but there are some days when he feels vengeful for some of the pettiest reasons. Maybe Katsuki ate his leftover katsudon, or watched the new All Might special without him, something harmless like that, so Izuku gets back at him with something equally as harmless- pranks.

We know Deku has the potential to pull pranks on Bakugou. He wanted to send him a box of spiders at one point after all (that's not completely harmless but you get the point). So maybe one day Deku starts small with the classics. He sneaks into Katsuki's room and nudges everything over a couple centimeters, causing the explosion user to bump into everything as his yelling echoes through the walls. He swaps the sugar for salt while Katsuki is cooking and passes it off as a mistake. The pranks continue for a week, slowly escalating in complexity and creativity, and eventually Katsuki figures it out, but for the life of him he can't get Deku back as hard as he tries.

So for the whole week Katsuki is pissed, pent up, anticipating the next prank but still falling for them regardless. And then suddenly there's nothing. One day turns to two turns to three and the days pass without a single incident. Katsuki side-eyes Deku during class, trying to see if the nerd is plotting something but he looks as innocent as always.

That just makes Katsuki nervous.

A week has passed and nothing has happened though, so Katsuki finally starts to relax. They've got work studies that day so he heads to Endeavor's agency with Deku and Todoroki, they suit up and they head out.

There's a huge villain attack in the city that requires all hands on deck, over a dozen villains wrecking havok in a shopping area. One of them has a quirk that turns them into a giant hulking monster, Endeavor is busy with another group a couple blocks away, so Deku suggests that Katsuki use his gauntlets to take the villain out before it wrecks anymore of the buildings and hurts any civilians that might still be nearby. After fighting together for so long Katsuki doesn't even second-guess Deku's plan, trusting him completely at this point, plus he hasn't had a chance to use his gauntlets in a while and they're filled to the brim.

Katsuki yells at everybody to get back, braces his legs, aims at the giant villain, and pulls the pin. The gauntlet lets out an explosion with a deafening boom.

And glitter.

The giant villain goes down, but nobody is even paying attention to it anymore. Katsuki is just standing there, stunned. Todoroki is stunned. The other villains they were fighting are stunned as they all watch the sparkling orange substance (because of course it's fucking orange) shine in the afternoon sun as it rains down on everything. Katsuki knows it's going to be stuck in his hair and costume until well after graduation but he can't even care at the moment as he whirls on Deku as the nerd starts laughing, bent over arms around the stomach dying in laughter, completely unbothered by the glitter coating his own body. "DEKU WHAT THE FUCK?!"

(In the end Izuku recruited help from Hatsume for his final prank. He had to test a variety of her babies during training for the next month, and Katsuki tried to explodo-kill him for the rest of the week, but it was worth it to turn his friend's gauntlets into giant glitter bombs.)

#mha #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #I love my boys #i guess this is technically a wip since I intend to flesh this out at some point hopefully #but chaotic bakudeku friendship is my jam #traveler writes #traveler wips

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