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#and you just know he put the outfit on and stuck around for the same reason
starboye · 2 days
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vinnie hacker and roommate having a bet where whoever lose, they have to wear a maid outfit(with a thong) and do all the chores in the house and ofc vinnie one the bed so he’s been staring at reader all day with this costume and he can’t get his eyes off readers ass basically not even being covered by the skirt part of the costume and reader is now washing the dishes and vinnie can’t take it anymore and gets on his knees and makes reader lift his leg on the counter, pulls the thong to the side and starts eating readers ass and reader is enjoying it a little to much and he starts shaking his ass on vinnie face and vinnie just is in heaven
well this is embarrassing
it was supposed to be a harmless dare you and vinnie made when you were drunk, a game of whoever could take the most shots would win and some how vin won, you woke up the next day thinking vinnie would never remember
that was until you walked out of your room to see him holding a maids outfit with a smug smirk on his face
"time to get to work"
this motherfucker, but you couldn't back out now so you put it on, it felt a little tight which was a little surprising seeing as vinnie should know your size from all the times he's snooped through your clothes
but this was just his plan, he knew your size so he got the outfit in a smaller size and obviously it wouldn't be complete without a cute thong to flaunt your ass in, and out of all the chores you were doing his favorite had to be when your dusted the house
you standing on your tippy toes to reach the corners of the walls and bending over to dust the coffee table unaware of vinnie's longing gaze on your ass, he was praying to god that you magically got stuck in the washing machine so he could fuck you but sadly it seems that only happens in porn
but he couldn't handle it anymore when he saw you washing dishes, it's like you and him got married and you were doing wifely duties in his eyes, so he quickly made his way in between your legs, kneeling down and kissing your soft ass until he pulled the pretty thong to the side and went crazy
his tongue plunging in and out of your hole, you dropped your head in pleasure at the feeling, deciding maybe teasing him isn't so bad so you shake your ass on his face slightly, making him even more feral for you
the holds your ass on his face and doesn't come up for air for at least ten minutes, wanting to only taste you on his tongue, the same tongue that had you cumming in no time, it felt like vinnie could ascend to heaven with how good it all felt
seems like you'll keep the costume around for some other purposes
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halfvalid · 1 year
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pretty in that
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ABOUT
rating: general audiences
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro
author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!
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You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 
Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 
“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 
“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 
“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 
Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 
“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 
“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 
“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 
“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 
“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 
“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 
“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 
“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 
“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 
“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 
“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 
“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 
“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 
“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 
“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.
“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 
Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 
“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 
Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 
“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 
“Not really what I’m into.” 
“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”
“Three swords, three earrings.” 
“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 
“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 
“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 
You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 
“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 
“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 
You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 
Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 
“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 
“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 
“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 
“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 
“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 
“You always look nice.” 
You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 
Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 
Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 
“Better how?” 
“You can probably run in it.” 
You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 
Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 
To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 
Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 
He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 
You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 
“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 
“Because of… clothing?” 
You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 
“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 
“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 
Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 
Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 
You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 
Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 
You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 
Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.
Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 
“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 
“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 
“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 
‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 
“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 
“Let me see.” 
You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 
“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 
“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 
“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 
“Oh.” 
Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 
There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 
You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 
“You’re acting weird.” 
“Am not.” 
Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”
“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.
“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 
You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 
“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 
“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”
Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”
“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 
“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 
“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 
Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 
“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 
“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 
“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 
“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 
Your breath caught. 
“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 
“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 
You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 
Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 
“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 
“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 
“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 
“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 
“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.
You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 
“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 
“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 
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© halfvalid 2023
7K notes · View notes
zephyrchama · 5 months
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(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again
---01
It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.
Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.
Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.
---02
Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.
He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.
He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.
---03
Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.
He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”
You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.
Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.
---04
Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.
“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”
You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.
---05
Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.
When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.
As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.
---06
Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.
One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.
It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.
---07
It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.
The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.
Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”
Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.
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luminiamore · 5 months
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SOUL, PT.2
basketball player ony x black spiritual reader
first part here.
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warnings: bomb dick, vibrating panties (idea came to me last minute)
masterlist
The day finally arrived. The man you had been crushing on for months— the man who sucked the soul out of pussy just two days ago— was taking you out on a date. Your nerves were racking up, your breathing heavy as you stared at yourself in your mirror. The scent of lavender and the burning blunt you just rolled are lingering in your nostrils. It was 5 p.m., 30 minutes before Ony told you he was coming with your outfit.  
You were stuck in the mirror, fixing the baby hairs on your ginger wig as you took another hit. Your head was being hit pretty hard by the effects of the marijuana. Your gold and stone bracelets jiggled around with every movement you made. Why were you so nervous? This is the same man that slobbered over your clit on your clit appallingly not too long ago. So, why were you so nervous? You jumped when you heard a ding coming from your phone. 
“omw mama.”
Another hit. You read the text without even clicking on the message, and if Ony was the type of nigga to go 50 on a 20 road, you had about 10 minutes before he came knocking on your door. You quickly wrap a pink silk robe from one of your hangers on your body, not putting on panties because you have a gut feeling. You already showered, already lathered your body in your strawberry body milk. Your light makeup sat perfectly against your skin, your lips brown and glossed.
The only thing left for you to do was to spray a bit of your Kayali Sugar Candy perfume, and after the final spritz, you heard a light knocking sound coming from outside your room. Your heart is beating ten times faster— he didn’t even tell you he was outside. Another hit, and you ash it out outside your window. 
Your feet could barely be heard on the ground as you rushed to open the door and shit. Seeing Ony outside of his usual attire was doing more to you than you cared to admit. He was in a white dress shirt and black suit pants— all dressed up for the date he was taking you on. His hair was freshly cut, the first two buttons on his shirt were loose, and he had a freshly ripened hibiscus bouquet in his right hand and a medium-sized bag on his left. How did he know those were my favorite flowers?
“Heard you tell that girl you always with that you really liked these.” He smirks a bit when your eyes widen in realization that you said your thoughts out loud. You grab the flowers from his grasp, fingers burning when you accidentally graze his hand, and mutter a small, “Thank you, they’re beautiful. Come in, Ony.”
His aura alone was so potent, so calm and safe, and inside, you knew your spirit guides were probably cheering you on. Your cat’s immediate approach to him, rubbing its head on his legs, was a sign that you made the right choice. Waiting for him to pet her, she plopped down on the floor, and unsurprisingly, Ony crouched down to honor her wishes.
You wanted him to take you now, but you knew Ony was a man of his word. He wouldn’t fuck you until after tonight. You just had to wait until after tonight. You glance up to where a regular clock is hanging above your door. 
5:25.
..Waiting until after tonight suddenly seemed like forever. 
“Not as beautiful as you. You smoking in here?” The smell of it was immediately detected when you opened the door. He smiled internally because he was waiting outside your apartment in his Hellcat while he texted you and lit his own joint. You really were meant for each other. 
Ony thought you looked good enough to eat. Again. Nothing but a thin robe on you, accentuating your curves and showing a slight peak of your voluptuous brown tits. Flashes of you moaning his name and bucking your hips wildly onto his tongue started slipping into his mind— would it really be wrong to taste you again?
Your pretty voice breaks him out his thoughts, “Yea, you want a hit? Or two?” You release a chuckle, the sound making the tall man shiver a bit. He takes a deep breath— patience. He has to have patience. You’ll be moaning his name soon enough.
“Nah, was smoking before I got here. Here, mama.” He hands you the bag he was holding after you got done putting the flowers on your kitchen counter. You were a bit.. skeptical when Ony asked if he could dress you for tonight, worried that he might choose an outfit that you wouldn’t like. 
What you didn’t know is that Ony observed you. Studied your peculiarities and the way you dressed when you walked up into Econ, he wouldn’t have asked such a question otherwise. He had precise knowledge of what to give you, and it was evident when you took the bag from him and found an exquisite crochet skirt set. 
The skirt ended with shades of light to a deep royal purple, and the top had no straps. Flower patterns were all over it. There was also a pair of shoes, white mini heels with thin straps. And when you reached the bottom of the bag, you saw panties, purple, and flower patterns all over it, too. 
“Ony, this is- It’s gorgeous. I-”
He kisses your cheek and gently pushes the items to your chest, “Go put ’em on. Reservation’s at 6:30.”
You giggle and nod, rushing to your room on your tiptoes. In your living room, Ony is waiting for you, lying down on your comfortable couch and petting your cat after she jumps onto his lap. He has reason to believe that you two wouldn’t make it outside if he came inside your room with you. 
You take your time, slowly putting each piece on to not stretch the crochet material. Your last step was the panties, and you couldn’t help but feel that they were slightly heavier than any of the panties you owned. You’re about to examine it a little more, but you stop short when you hear Ony’s voice: “You ready, mama?”
Any confusion about the panties was long gone after you put them on, following the heels. After spritzing your perfume one more time, you grab your keys and head out the door, Ony following closely behind you. 
It was a peaceful ride to wherever Ony was taking you, with only soft Brent Faiyaz music playing in the background and the light-burning sound of the half-finished joint he offered you. At every red light stop, you would let him take the hit until both of you finished it. 
He parked his car in front of a garden-like spot just before you ashed it out, just in time. You are about to reach your hand to open your door but fall short when you hear a click!
“You should know better.” Was all he said before he got out of the driver’s seat and got to your side. As he opens the door for you, he grabs your hand to guide you out and leads you to a person who is ready to seat you both. Hand in yours the entire time. “Reservation for Onyankopon, please.”
The man gives a smile and gestures for you both to follow him. It would be an understatement to describe how beautiful the area was when you surveyed it. It was like a restaurant in a garden of flowers. You are led by the person to a table surrounded by grass and daises, with occasional butterflies flying around you. 
“How did you even find this place?” You ask in complete awe. Ony spent a while trying to find a place he knew you would like. You didn’t seem like the type of person to like classy restaurants, and he definitely didn’t want to take you to some low-end place. He wanted to find something that resembled you. A place where you would feel completely comfortable. 
And well, when you sat down, and a white butterfly made its way onto your awaiting finger... Ony couldn’t help but think he made the right choice. You look like a goddess. An ethereal being that was all his. “I drove by it one time, and it reminded me of you. You like it?”
He hoped you did. The expression on your face wasn’t telling him enough. He wanted to hear the words come out of your mouth, or else he would drown in his anxiety. All he wanted to do was please you. 
“I love it, Ony.” A bright smile graced your face. You never looked more pretty— aside from when you made those gorgeous faces when he was pleasuring you. 
A server came to take your order, Ony ordering for himself before the woman turned to you, 
“And for you, miss?”
“Could I please have the-” The sensation of intense pressure vibrating on your clit causes you to stop your sentence with a faint gasp. Both of your hands are gripping the table to provide support.
“Miss? Are you okay?”
“You good, mama?” You look up when Ony questions and catch the faux concern in his eyes, his lips twitching up a bit as he almost fails to contain his smile. This was his doing. You knew those panties were different. And you seriously should’ve questioned why he bought you a pair anyway. Fuck it felt so good.
You steady your voice so you don’t stutter when you speak up, “… I’m okay. Could... I have the-the Shrimp Fried Rice, p-please.”
You curse yourself internally when you stumble upon your words. You observe as she reluctantly nods and accepts your order. You would’ve flushed your head down in embarrassment, but in your defense, you had a vibrator going at full speed on your clit. Fuck whatever she was thinking about you right now. 
The minute she walks away from the table, you give Ony the meanest glare you could muster— which, to him, wasn’t doing much. In retaliation, he just turned the vibration up, causing you to yelp silently. 
“Ony! W-why?” You whimper out as quietly as you can so as not to raise attention from the people around you. He just shakes his head, amused at how weak he could get you. 
“You look so pretty like this, mama. Enjoy yourself, hm? You deserve it.” 
He couldn’t get his mind off the events that occurred when you came to his dorm. Could you even blame him? For wanting to see more of those pretty faces you make. For wanting to eat you whole again.
He realized he couldn’t outright finger you in a public setting, not here anyway. He didn’t want to wait to fuck you so he could witness you fall apart like you did last time. He longs for you with a strong desire. Even 72 hours later, the flavor of your juices is still lingering on his tongue. “But-”
“Shh. Just try not to get too loud, yeah? Don’t want anyone else seeing those gorgeous faces you make.”
Squeezing your thighs together, your head falls back against your chair. This goes on for a good while, Ony just staring at you, biting your lips to stop the moans bottling in your throat from getting too loud. He watches as your pretty lashes flutter open and close while your eyes roll in the back of your head.
You rub your lower hips against the chair subtly in quick, fast motions to stave off your impending orgasm. Light gasps released from your throat when you feel a burning sensation in your abdomen. Just when you start feeling like the dam is about to burst and ruin the only thing that holds you up right now, everything comes to an end. 
The vibration, your rubbing— nothing but your ears buzzing can be heard until you finally register what just happened. You don’t have time to dwell on it much because your waiter comes back with what you both ordered. 
“Would you like some water, miss?” And this time, Ony grants you the mercy of answering for you, ears still buzzing and clit still twitching because of your ruined orgasm. 
“She would, please.” When the waiter walks away from your table, Ony almost cracks under the pleading look you give him. He can’t believe it took him this long to ask you out. What if someone got to you before him? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. 
Your soft and crackling voice reaches his ears, “Please, Ony. Let me-”
“Eat your food, mama. I said enjoy yourself, never said you could cum.”
Giving him a pout is all you can do, and his tone indicates that this is not a subject for discussion. The rest of the night went surprisingly well. The conversation was full of rich details about both of you. Only told you many stories about him, how he got to be a basketball player, and how it was a dream of his since he was a toddler. In return, you told him how you even started your spiritual journey, spoke about your childhood even because you were just so comfortable around him. 
He didn’t turn back on the vibrator for the remainder of the evening, only listening to the sweet melody of your voice whenever you said something or laughed at something he said. It seemed like you hadn’t been here for that long when the bill came. You were truly in the present moment with Ony, so you lost all sense of time. But you caught a glance at your phone— 9:30.
Damn. It’s already been three hours? Ony takes out his wallet and pulls out some cash. He gently grabs your hand to pull you out of your chair so that you and he can leave together. Before you know it, you both are on your way back to your apartment. What catches you off guard is the intense vibration from the restaurant coming back, causing you to let out a loud moan in his passenger seat. Your passenger seat after tonight, if he was being honest. 
Your body thrashes against the seat belt, hips bucking wildly because you are still so horny after being left on the edge like that. “F-Fuck!”
He pretends to be unfazed, his eyes still focused on the road as you release the honey moans contained in his car.
“Can you hold it f’me? You’re almost home, mama. I’ll make you cum as much as you want when we get there.”
He must like torturing you. That’s the only explanation. At his words, you don’t think you ever worked harder to stave off an orgasm in your life. The pressure feels so good, your body bubbling with heat and the pleasure being felt in every corner. You wail when the vibrator hits a particular spot on your clit due to your hips rapidly shaking and moving.
Your breathing starts to become erratic as you release light hiccups. Your efforts to not cum are so intense that tears are falling from your brown eyes. Why was it taking so long to get home?
“I n-need to.. cum. Please!”
How do you do that? Look so divine while your pussy is being overstimulated? He almost wants to let you have cum because you look so pretty while trying to beg for him. But then he thinks about how he doesn’t want you finishing on anything other than the massive tent in his pants, and he figures— you can wait a bit. He’s pulling up in your garage anyway, and he wasn’t going to fuck you in his car for your first time together. 
Your heavy breathing and the sudden slam of Ony’s door are all that remains in the car when he puts it in park. He opens your door and swiftly holds you in a bridal style to your apartment number. He presses light kisses to your cheek, his tatted hand rubbing gently on your wide hips.   
He doesn’t wait a second to devour your lips once you open your door, your moans being muffled by the sheer force of the kiss. His lips were soft and sweet against yours, fitting perfectly as your lip gloss was smeared onto him. Still in his hold, you weakly point to the direction of your room, which he follows wordlessly. Heels are long gone, and been thrown in the hall amid your make-out session. 
He plops you down on your mattress, and you don’t hesitate to yank him down towards you into another brutal make-out session, your smooth legs encircling his waist. You gasp when he firmly squeezes the fat of your tits, allowing him to dip his tongue into yours, deepening the kiss.
Fuck, you wanted him so bad. Your skirt rises, and soon, there’s nothing but his pants and your panties separating the two of you. Ony was unusually big.. you knew this when you first saw his print at his dorm. And right now, as he was fumbling to take his belt off, your mind was scrambling, trying to figure out how you were going to fit all of him inside of you. 
All thoughts went out the window when he ripped your damp panties off in one go and immediately started playing with the obscene amount of slick that’s been gathering ever since he came to pick you up. Your cute sounds are heaven to him.
His deep voice whispers in your ear, “You’re so wet, baby. Don’t need me to prep you, right?” 
His fingers are moving rapidly against your clit, as he is awestruck by how his hands keep slipping off out of rhythm due to your wetness. Or maybe he was already drunk on you, desperate to split your pussy apart on his cock. His pants aren’t even entirely off before he’s fisting his fat cock out of his boxers and slapping his brown tip right on your pussy lips, creating wet squelching sounds.
“Could just slip right in with how you’re leaking all over your sheets. You gonna take it, mama?”
And he was right. Your wetness was creating a dark stain on your bed, likely gonna start seeping into the mattress. You sneak a glance down at Ony’s ministrations, and you immediately try to move your hips away. This man was dead-ass walking around with a third leg. It was so big, it actually scared you. How the fuck was that supposed to fit inside of you? Even your last fling wasn’t this hung. 
He immediately pulled your hips back towards him, refusing to let you run away from the deep fucking he’s been craving to give you. “Don’t do that. Take it f’me, baby. Please?”
You whimper, his pleading tone getting you even more wetter. “O-Ony.. you’re too b-big! I can’t- Ooo fuck.”
You didn’t have time to finish your sentence before he sank his length past your tight walls, making you feel every inch of him. Fuck, he was so deep, and he almost wanted to cum right there. He looks down at you and shit. 
You never looked more beautiful, as he said. Your mouth is constructed into a lovely “o” shape, and your eyes roll back so deep into your skull he can see your white eye sockets. You were drooling, the feeling of his dick inside of you simply too much for your tiny brain to handle. He wasn’t gonna last long.
Your wet cunt was so stretched out, and Ony didn’t even give you a second to relax before he started feeding you deep, harsh strokes. You could do nothing but let tears fall from your eyes and wail his name so loud you’re sure you’ll probably get a noise complaint from your neighbors. 
“Gorgeous. Such a good girl taking my dick like this, you love it baby? Talk to me, mama.” He pleads as his face is buried in the crook of your sweat-filled neck, the feeling of your pussy being better than he ever imagined. Than he ever dreamed of. The sounds you both were making were so lewd, so nasty. But it was bringing you much closer to splashing all over his disheveled dress shirt.
“So-so good, Ony! L-Love it s’much.” Your pretty cries make him groan loudly against you; you can feel it vibrating against your chest. Your mind is blanking, and the fire in your stomach that you felt twice today is coming back, only much stronger. Your already overstimulated clit is causing it to come much faster.
With every thrust he gives you, you give Ony a beautiful yelp. And he could only watch your face contort as you struggle to find something to hold on to, to ground you. You’re a bit dense if you think he would let you do anything other than feel every spec of what he gave you. He grasps both of your hands with only one of his hands and presses them above your head.
“Pussy’s so damn good, shit. M’gonna cum. Where you want it, mama?” 
And you respond to him so eagerly, choking on your spit when he presses down on your stomach, his bulge being prominently displayed every time he thrusts in and out of you. 
“Ahhh! M-me too! Inside, Ony. P-Please Ony, cum in m-me.” 
He can’t say no to you, not when you beg him to fill you up with tears like that. The final straw for you was when he forced his tongue into your panting mouth again, swallowing every gasp and moan that managed to fall past your lips. You make a sudden and unwarranted shriek against his mouth, and your pussy splashes all over him. 
He groans as you babble his name repeatedly, allowing salty tears to flow freely down your cheeks. Your body twitches as your pussy creams and squeezes tightly around him, and that’s enough for Ony to shiver as his cum spurts past your womb. He should have slowed down or stopped because now you both feel overstimulated. 
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thrusting his hips rapidly against you, the feeling of you squirting on his dick quickly becoming something he wanted more of. He needs you to do that again. He needs you to spray your sweet juices so hard it reaches his face. Your chest is heaving as you try to wriggle your hands out of Ony’s grasp to slow him down. Your attempt doesn’t do much but make him tighten his grip on you,
“Give me another one, mama. Come on, just one more, baby.” And by the look on his face, even you can tell it wasn’t just going to be one more. You were in for a long night.
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divine-donna · 5 months
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all you need is more radaway
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save a horse. ride a cowboy. ;)
anyways i really loved the tv show and i love the game. and ghouls are just chef's kiss. or maybe that's because i love monsters. sad that i finished it so quickly. :(
perhaps i can put what i learned in my western class to good use lol
character: cooper howard aka. the ghoul
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it's never easy surviving the wasteland. you don't know how you managed to survive for this long. perhaps because you seemed to have been blessed with incredible luck.
and building up endurance, of course.
you felt little to no side effects from the radiation of the food you were eating. which just meant you had a lot of radaway and rad-x stocked up.
to make ends meet, though, you had to start hunting. scavenging and scrapping by wasn't enough. you needed the extra caps.
thus your rivalry with another bounty hunter was born.
"well, well. aren't you far from home, sweetheart?"
you were used to comments about your outfit. a vault suit. yes, you came from one. you had been exiled after your father was revealed to be managing the experiment behind it. the child pays for the sins of the father always.
"you're not the first and you won't be the last." you pull the head off the body as clean as possible.
"now i don't know if you should do that."
"and why not?"
a bullet flies past you and burrows itself into the ground. you finally look up. a cowboy hat. the face of a ghoul. his gun pointing right at you.
but you weren't afraid.
"because he's my target." he pulls out a piece of paper. "and he's mine."
"seems unfair if i did all the work. and you just collect his head and the prize." you pull out the same piece of paper. yours is a little more worn out though. and covered in dried blood.
"that's the way of the wasteland sweetheart."
"if you believe so."
your hands were fast. two bullets lodged into his right left and when he looks up, you're gone.
of course, you learned from the best: western holotapes. you really liked them when you were growing up. claimed to want to be a lone hero.
in some ways, you were. the wasteland was just a new version of the wild west, wasn't it?
"spaghetti? like...the pasta?"
more like spaghetti western. he knew that, of course. but no one in the wasteland knew what a spaghetti western was. they were remnants of a past long gone and one only accessible by holotapes in the vaults.
"that's their name." the person says. "why? you have business with them?"
"perhaps." the ghoul was looking to return a favor.
"don't even try. they're far more formidable than you think."
"we'll see about that."
your rivalry was an exchange of bullets, more often than not. thankfully, you always stocked up on bloodbags and could make a stimpack from your heavy (but useful) travel chemistry kit. you were smart like that.
surprisingly, it became something to look forward. mostly because the ghoul preferred if he tried killing you, so he managed to get you out of a tough situation by killing the other people trying to kill you.
and you returned the favor. there was something satisfying about lodging a bullet into him again.
unfortunately, this left you two stuck on a job once. captured by raiders. you had been knocked out with a drug. and he had collapsed from...something.
"fuck." you mutter, pulling at the ropes binding you. your luck had run out for the day it seems, because your arms were tied to the ghoul's around this godforsaken pole. the metal was also uncomfortably rubbing up against your skin.
"you got a knife or anything sharp?" he looks over at you. it's rare to see him without his cowboy hat. his head was rather smooth.
you chuckle a little.
"something funny?" the ghoul asks.
"nothing. you're just...shaped like an egg."
"very funny."
"let me guess. your answer is no?"
"i don't have a knife up my sleeve, sadly. think they took it."
"shame." the ghoul shimmies something out of his own sleeve. he flicks the blade out and begins sawing at the rope. "watch your fingers."
you keep your fingers tucked in. eventually, the rope on your wrists comes undone and one arm soon after. the rest comes off and you rub your skin. "fuck these guys. always hated raiders."
"well, we both got sold out. we need to find that thing now. or else we'll be dead by sunrise." he tugs on the door of the jail cell and clicks his tongue.
"i don't have sharp objects. but i do have these." you pull out the bobby pin taped on the inside of your sleeve, alongside a mini screwdriver.
the lock wasn't very complicated, so you picked it with ease.
as you both are grabbing your equipment, you hear footsteps up above. light ones and heavier ones. and the sound of a muffled, altered, robotic voice.
the brotherhood of steel was worse than raiders, honestly.
"you go left, i go right. how does that sound?"
"i don't usually like taking orders from my rivals." he reloads his gun. "but for you? sure."
the event left the both of you soaked in the blood of your enemies. on the other hand, you guys left with plenty of loot and an idea of where your target was: dead. at the bottom of a lake.
it was a journey to get there, wherein you learned the details of each other's lives. you didn't think he was paying much attention to your sentences. after all, you came from a vault.
and yet, you saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes.
he seemed less keen on sharing details about his life, aside from his former name. cooper howard.
undeniably, as a fan of westerns, you recognized his names. from the holotapes.
"they had those?" cooper shakes his head, taking sips of water. "no way."
"yes way! it's where i learned to shoot."
"from watching my movies?"
"yes!"
"that is...a pleasant surprise." cooper leans back.
"that also makes you over 200 years old."
"that it does. something wrong with that?"
"no. the wasteland changes people." you maintain your attention to your suit, sewing a tear up. "just...you're looking for something, aren't you? everyone's always looking for something up here."
"are you looking for something?" his voice hardens and he sits up straight.
"i was. and then i found it. and i stopped." you tie the thread to seal the stitch and then tear the thread with your teeth. "i hope you find what you're looking for though."
"well, that's awfully kind of you, sweetheart."
"i have a name, you know."
"what is it?"
"(y/n)."
getting personal in the wasteland was something cooper wasn't adamant about. but the circumstances seems to call for it.
"guess we're even now."
the body of water was daunting. it was murky and dark. you pursed your lips and dumped your bag. "well. guess we have no choice."
cooper looks over at you then quickly turns around when he sees what you're doing: taking off your suit and going down to your underwear. "what are you doing?"
"i'm going to go get that head. that's how we get paid, right? easy three thousand caps. 15 hundred split evenly." you stretch.
"i think you might die."
"i'll be fine. i've done it before." Aquaperson perk.
"i can also swim, you know."
"i'll be fine cooper." you pop a rad-x pill just in case. "be back in a bit."
you dive like a swan, making minimal splash into the water. your form disappears beneath the darkness.
you're gone beneath the water for over an hour. cooper's heart was beating against his rib cage. you should be out by now. it should not be that hard. did something get you? things lurked beneath the murky waters always.
"fuck!"
he drops his equipment and begins stripping down, until he is just in his pants. he would need to dive after you. if you were dead, then so be it. it was fun while it lasted.
suddenly, you emerge. you take in the oxygen of the surface and hold the head up high. "got 'em." you swim over to the shore and walk out of the water.
there was something about how...wet you were that got him feeling hot and bothered.
"something happen down there?"
"couple of mirelurks. no big deal. which reminds me." you set the head on the ground and go back into the water. within minutes, you're pulling out the bodies of the mirelurks you had killed. "dinner."
while cutting the mirelurks open, you observe the way he walks around you. his muscles bulging a little as he cuts a mirelurk open and takes the meat. he was kind of...attractive?
"were you going to come after me?" he stops cutting hearing your question. "in the water, i mean."
"so what if i did?" cooper averts his eyes.
"that's sweet of you. i didn't know you had a soft spot for me."
"i don't."
"sure." you can tell he was lying through his teeth.
dinner was a nice, cozy meal. it was delicious. a nice surprise considering the nature of the wasteland.
cooper notices the way you're looking at him. and he looks at you the same way.
though how does this work exactly?
"do you want to..." you try to find a decent way to say this. fuck is a good term. but it felt a little vulgar in the moment.
cooper already knows what you're asking. "absolutely. if you can handle it." he smirks.
it's so cute when he smirks.
you glance over at your bag, looking at your stash of radaway. you had plenty. plus your stash of rad-x too.
"i absolutely can."
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the-californicationist · 11 months
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he washes your hair
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Injured in the line of duty, you can't even manage to wash your own hair. Captain John Price decides to help you out.
MDNI/18+
TW: hurt/comfort, injury
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50663425
The medics did the best they could to patch you up, but the damage was extensive. The terrorist’s pipe bomb had exploded against your back, slamming shrapnel into your arms and shoulders, tearing your flesh and breaking your left collarbone. The doctor had tried to put your arm in a sling, but you couldn’t raise either arm above the midpoint. As you dragged your body back to your quarters, you did your best to get undressed, but you were now stuck, sitting on the floor, crying a bit from the pain and frustration of your injuries. 
There was no one to help you. You were stuck out here with the task force, but Soap and Ghost were still deep in enemy territory on recon. Gaz had gone with Laswell to find the weapons shipment that she’d promised you, and the only one left in the makeshift house-turned-base was Captain Price. 
You told yourself you’d do the same thing for him if the tables were turned, but it didn’t lessen the shame at all. You called his cell, 
“Cap?”
“Sparrow? What’s wrong?”
You never called him like this. Not at this hour. But, knowing you were injured, he picked right up. His voice was full of concern. You could picture his blue eyes shining with his worry. 
“Nothing…” you paused, “Well, I…”
“Gonna die of old age before you tell me, soldier.”
You smiled, biting the bullet,
“Cap, I need your help. I’m stuck in here. Can’t move my arms.”
“On my way,” he hung up. 
You waited, listening for his heavy footsteps. Eventually, you heard him in the hall. He knocked on your door.
“Come in,” you said, turning your eyes to the floor, unable to meet his gaze, full of shame. 
You were sitting there, in nothing but the shirt stuck around your arm and a pair of panties. You’d been successful with the rest of your outfit, proud of yourself for using a coat hanger to take off your bra from the back clip, but now you were trapped, unable to move even a little without being in excruciating pain.
“Poor little bird. Broke your wing, hm?” Price smiled down at you, his tone so different than his usual sarcasm.
“I must look pretty pitiful for you to be so sweet about it,” you rolled your eyes, “Go on, have a laugh. I’m a muppet who trapped herself in her own shirt.”
He didn’t say anything. Price walked over to you carefully, bending down so he could reach you, his hulking body darkening your vision, casting his huge shadow over you, almost protectively. He snaked his hand under the collar of your shirt and guided it up and over your head, careful not to disturb your bandages. 
Shirtless, now, and in just your underwear, you moved to cover your breasts, wincing as you made the attempt, your shoulder angry at the bent angle. 
“It’s alright, birdie. Let’s get you up,” he set your arm back into its neutral position and guided you to your feet. 
“I’m so sorry you had to come,” you whispered, shameful to the point of pain. 
Price guided you to the bathroom, his strength making you feel weightless. You were dizzy from it. His warm body felt like a salve on your wounds. 
He didn’t ask for permission when he stripped off your panties, kneeling to pull them off of your legs, letting you step gingerly out of them, one by one. You steadied yourself on his huge shoulders, the agony too high for you to complain any longer. Your breath caught in your chest when a sharp spike of hot pain shot through your chest. 
“Ah! Christ,” you gritted your teeth. 
Blue eyes looked up at you from below, looking like a man in prayer, looking up for his gods, for a sign. 
“Alright, Spar? Here, sit. Sit down,” he guided you to the side of the shower-tub combo, placing you between the open plexiglass doors. 
“Captain, I…” you tried to make your excuses again. 
“Shh,” he wiped some of your dried blood off of your cheek, and furrowed his brow at you, “No more of that. That’s an order, Corporal.” 
“Yes, sir,” you grimaced, trying to turn on the water. 
“Stop, birdie. Let me help you.” 
You were too tired to fight him. He turned on the water for you, and he started to remove your bandages. Your wounds needed to be cleaned and the bandages replaced. You weren’t sure how the medics expected you to do that by yourself. You thought the captain might be willing to stay, so you tried to be good, tried not to be a burden to him. 
“You know,” he commented as he waited for the water to warm up, reaching for clean towels, “Laswell called. She said you saved those two girls, the ones in the upstairs room.”
There had been a mess of civilians on this last mission, and you had blocked the bomb with your body, trying to shield them from the blast. 
“They made it through?” You wanted to be sure.
He nodded, smiling,
“Sure did, little bird. You did good. Made us proud,” then, he corrected himself, staring at you with fiery intent, “Me. Made me proud.” 
You smiled back, 
“Thanks, Captain.”
“C’mon, let’s get you clean,” he took off his shirt and you gaped in awe. 
His body was huge in the small bathroom, enormous shoulders bulging off of his heavy frame, and his core was thick but the top of his abs were sticking out, suggesting a well-fed but strong man. He was covered in dense hair, laying straight and flat against his skin, unshaven and untrimmed. No one to trim it for, you supposed.
“What are you doing?” You asked, shocked by his undressing.
Price unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking as it dangled, and started to take off his pants, using his toes to pry off his boots from the heel,
“Can’t wash yourself, and I can’t reach you from out here. Gonna jump in and help you,” he paused, looking at you carefully, “That alright, birdie?”
Your nickname was your favorite thing you’d ever gotten from him. When he used it, in his thick accent, it made your heart race. 
You nodded, resigning yourself to be as professional as you could, averting your eyes.
He chuckled, rich and deep,
“Might as well have a butcher’s now, love. Gonna be up close and personal.”
You looked at him then, accepting his challenge. But, as your eyes raked over his nude form, you saw his skin flush pink, a little more self-conscious than he let on. 
“I know, I know. Old dog like me, I’m nothing to look at. I promise, I’ll just wash you and get back out. Sorry about all the…” he made a general motion toward his cock, which was hanging heavy and half-hard at the sight of you, “Can’t help that you’re a pretty bird.” 
“John, you’re plenty to look at,” you grinned, blushing right along with him. 
For once in his life, John Price didn’t have a snappy response. He just checked the water again and helped you stand up, guiding you into the shower and repositioning the head so that it wouldn’t hit you directly. 
You let yourself soak under the stream, eyes closed, hearing him shut the door behind himself. You felt him steady you with a hand on your hip as he used a gentle washcloth to clean blood off of your skin, careful not to touch your wounds. 
“Turn ‘round, love,” his voice was so low, you almost couldn’t hear him. 
You turned toward him, watching him stand before you, breathing heavier, trying his best not to stare at your chest. It was easy at first. As he cleaned your face, his touch soft and platonic, he stole a few glances down. But, as he began to take care of your collarbone and chest, he lost his nerve a bit. At one point, he stopped mid-swipe, trying to clean blood from you and then watching as a long, thin rivulet ran directly over your nipple. 
You smiled, and he saw you, chuckling again.
“Got me. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, Captain. Just a natural response.” 
He pulled back his lips from his teeth and ran a wet hand down his face, looking exasperated,
“Do you want…I mean, do you mind if I…” he let out a labored sigh, shaking his head. 
“You can, John. I…” you waited until he could look you in the face again, “I want you to touch me, if you want to.”
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, not really to you, “Look, I don’t want you to feel - ”
You leaned forward, a bit unsteady, and kissed the skin on his sternum, feeling the hairs on your lips, his wet skin sticking to you as you pulled away. 
“Little bird,” he was warning you. You could hear it in his tone. 
“Kiss me, John. Please?”
“I can’t. I can’t because I won’t stop. I don’t have an abundance of self-control. Not after a mission. Can’t be trusted.”
“I trust you,” you looked up at him, praying back to him, hoping he wanted you like you had wanted him over these last six months. 
Price leaned down, holding you steady, and kissed you very chastely. You kissed him back, not chastely at all. He moaned, pulling away,
“Don’t, Spar. I can’t…You’re injured.”
“Yeah, injured. Not dead.”
He smirked, unable to keep the grin off his face. His cock was as hard as a stone, and it was long enough to rub against your belly as you stood together in the small space. 
“Let me wash your hair. I’ll think about it, birdie…you little minx,” his last comment was said under his breath, full of hungry desperation. 
He turned you around again, and he reached for the shampoo, pouring out a quarter-sized amount into his calloused palm. Rubbing it together in his hands, he ran it through your scalp, massaging it until it foamed, making sure to take care of the ends. Then, he held you while you stood under the spray, letting the warm water soak your tresses, running the suds down the drain. 
As he prepared to wash your body, Price took a deep breath. He stayed away from your wounds, but as he started to wash your trunk, he hesitated to soap your breasts. 
“John, it’s okay.” 
He smiled at you, 
“Just enjoying you, little bird. Might not get another chance.” 
“I’ll make sure you get plenty of chances.” 
He was on you then, gently caressing your breasts and nipples with the soap, rubbing his body on yours, washing himself as he cleaned you. He ran his hands over your ass cheeks, down your legs, making sure to take care of your whole body as if it was his.
“Alright, all done,” he sighed, “Let’s get those dressings replaced, and I’ll take you to bed.”
You raised your eyebrows suggestively. He exhaled, smiling down at you in disbelief, his voice deep and ragged,
“Fuckin’ hell, birdie. Keep teasin’ me and I bloody will take you to bed.”
You smiled, laughing with him, enjoying his warmth as you leaned your body against his, letting the soft spray from the shower protect you both, cocooned together, safe and sound.
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dreamauri · 5 months
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♪ — 𝗪𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡? - part two max verstappen x reader (fluff) “. . . when he wants to be normal, he can count on you, stranger.”
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“Come on, you can’t say he has so much potential!” Max miserably tried to hold in his laughs as you continued your rant about how much better Max would look if he put a little more effort or thought in how he dressed. 
“I’m honestly starting to think he’s allergic to wearing anything . . . not Red Bull related. Like even in his streams! In his home!” 
Sitting in front of his laptop with a makeshift setup in the hotel room in Japan, Max found himself unwinding from the earlier media day when he gladly accepted to join you for a game of Fifa. It wasn’t until someone brought up Lewis’ outfit from this morning did you start your little ted talk. 
“La, please concentrate on the game, we’re losing!” he couldn’t stop laughing either so your team was toast either way. 
“No, because I bet he's wearing his Red Bull shirt right now wherever he is.”
The reason why Max was no longer able to hold it together was because he was indeed in a Red Bull shirt. He might actually take you up on being allergic to anything not associated with Red Bull.
“I’ll gladly design a few outfits for him, I swear!” 
“La-” Max put his face in his hands, shoulders shaking from laughter as his screen showed the opposing team scoring a goal. The dutch would usually feel frustrated if he were to be losing a Fifa game in any other situation, but not this one with you.
He's ready to lose and lose again, even give up his title as one of the world's top twenty Fifa players if he gets to spend time with you like this, laughing and joking; forgetting the world around, so it's just you and him.
Just two people . . . being people.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Since I have no one to show, you're stuck with me.” 
It’s kind of been a routine now, having a private call after a game or upon finding spare time. You two have gotten close. You even considered “amilian” to be a close friend, per say. A close friend who you regularly vent to about work or just randomly ask riddles or dad jokes to bother.
You enjoyed his company. He was a fun person to be around. He made you feel . . . yellow in a type of way too. You never felt left out or unheard. He always had time for you, it's like you were maybe gravitating to being more than close friends . . . it's not like you can do anything about it though.
Surely people make close friends online all the time. 
You stay up on your couch, scrolling through the settings of your laptop to show and rant despite having to get up in the morning. Max crossed his legs on his chair folding his arms and watching the screen as you messed around on your shared screen.
“La, it’s late.” He’s been trying to tell you for the past 10 minutes. It’s 6:30 in Japan, 7 hours ahead of the time in Paris, where you were. 
Not that he’s keeping track of the time where you were, it’s just that you shared the same time zone as Monaco, and he only had the GMT+2 clock displayed on his home screen because he needed to keep track of his cats . . .  not too make sure you got enough sleep or anything of that sort.
“It's only 11:30,” you shushed, pulling up pinterest. Max hung his head, trying to hold in his smile. “I could put together a whole outfit that would suit him right here and now,”
“La,” Max giggled watching you actually start to search and put things together. “I’ll make a deal with you, if you go to sleep, I'll try to get Max Verstappen in baggy jeans,” 
“WHAT?!” the blond flinched at the loud noise, looking around his hotel room to make sure no one heard anything -- despite him being alone. 
“You know I work in F1 right?” Max followed up, trying to hold in his smile at your silence. “La, you forgot?!” 
“I’m sorry!” you pleaded, holding your hands in a begging motion despite him not seeing anything.
Max put his hand on his chest and pretended to be offended when he was smiling really wide to the point his cheeks hurt. “My best friend doesn't know what I do for a living,” he gushed in fake hurt. 
Your mind blanked at the title. Best friend? 
“You do know what my job is, right, La?”
“. . .” You looked away embarrassed, you’ve known the guy for how long and don’t even know what his profession is. 
Max couldn’t stop his giggles. “Go to bed, La. I’ll get Max in baggy jeans for you.”
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Hey um, million?” 
“I thought I told you to go to bed?” Max chuckled, crouched in front of his suitcase, digging through it in hopes to find a pair of baggy jeans or a white shirt that he probably doesn't own. 
“I am in bed technically . . .” The blond looked over to his laptop on his desk, the call still going. “You work in F1,” Max felt his heart jump in anxiety for a second, there's no way you figured him out. 
“Yeah?”
 “Well um . . . my boss chose me to go see how things were going with McLaren at the Monaco gp,” 
The dutch perked up at your announcement. “Really? That's great!” 
“Y-Yeah, it is,” you stuttered, agreeing. you crossed your arms, looking at the email congratulating you on your phone screen. “I mean, I'm glad, this is an experience of a lifetime. I get to drag along a few interns with me as well.” Max frowned, your tone did not match with the news you were announcing.
“What's wrong?” He got up, sitting on the desk chair, looking at your profile picture, the concern was clear in voice, as if you could feel him sitting beside you on your bed and gently rubbing your back to comfort you. 
“Well, I don't have anyone to go with - the interns don't count . . . and I don't know anyone in Monaco or the attendees-- except you technically . . . I haven’t been on my own for that long before,” you sighed.
Max furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what you were asking of him.
“Is it-” you cut yourself of with a sigh. “Can I hang out with you sometime? During the weekend?” Max stayed silent, feeling his heart pounding to the point he was scared the organ would explode out of his chest. 
“I mean,” Max cleared his throat to hide the crack in his voice that arose from the anxiety he was drowning in. “I’m not traveling with the team every weekend, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be in Monaco . . . I’ll have to ask my boss.” he replied quietly and slowly, trying to comfort you still. “There’s still a few weeks before Monaco, so . . . I don’t know for sure.” He whispered, scratching the back of his head.
He was digging himself a grave. Asking Horner if he’s going to be in Monaco when he is the driver and already lives in Monaco? It’s too late now to be honest about who he is, he dug this hole himself and now he’s stuck in it.
It’s not like he can be like ‘oh, yeah of course you can hang out with me. Oh, I’m Max Verstappen by the way, the guy who’s driving the best car and winning all the races, so I can get you VIP tickets and a hot lap too if you want.’
“I’ll try my best to be there,” the blond whispered. You could almost feel him brushing your hair comfortingly. “We can get ice cream or go sightseeing. I know this really good cafe you’ll like . . .” Max will just have to keep digging his hole.
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proof reading credits to the lovely and amazing @classiclitfreak <3
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sungbeam · 7 months
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𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬
jeong yunho x gn!reader
1.1k words, friends 2 friends who cuddle ?, one bed trope, fluff, humor, like two swear words cuz who am i without cursing, snuggling, consequences of yunho being Tall (implied that reader is shorter than yunho)
a/n: im sorry that this kinda sucks ass but yeah,, one bed trope :')
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“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I'm going to hate this,” Jeong Yunho swore as his head poked up into the attic space, eyes wide in horror.
When the inn owners said that the attic was hardly an attic, they unfortunately were not exaggerating. It was close to a crawl space, with just enough room for you to stand up straight, and outfitted with an extra long twin bed, nightstand and lamp, a pillow, and two large sherpa wool blankets. The bed was fitted beneath the slope of the roof because the entire space wasn't even large enough to put the bed in the middle.
You were starting to sweat, and considering there wasn't even heating up here, you raced to calm your nerves. “It'll be fine,” you said with a small, anxious laugh.
Yunho moved his terrified eyes up to you. “Respectfully? I'm gonna go sleep in the storm.”
When he moved to descend the ladder, you slid on your knees to grab hold of his wrist. “Come on, big guy. It's one night.”
“Yn, what if I said I was claustrophobic, huh?” He whined, but reluctantly followed you all the way up the ladder and into the attic. He straightened—big mistake. You heard the loud thump as his head met the roof, and grimaced. “Oooow!”
You hissed and reached over to gently rub the place that began to smart when he leaned down. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he whimpered. “Can I sleep in the lobby?”
Around ten minutes later, after many trials and tribulations and head bonks, you and Yunho somehow transferred your duffle bags up the ladder and into your glorified crawl space. They took up the space just beside the ladder and at the foot of the bed, and as you stared at said twin bed, you wondered if Yunho's legs would even fit on it.
Most likely not.
In fact, you were certain that two people couldn't even fit on the bed unless they were either on top of each other or packed together like sardines.
You reminded yourself that it was only going to be one night. This was what the two of you got for leaving five hours after everyone else, just to get caught in tonight's awful storm and stuck with the only “room” available for miles. In retrospect, it was your fault. Yunho had been generous enough in offering to stay behind with you until you finished your last exam.
“You can have the bed,” you told him as you were both crouched by your bags to grab clothes to sleep in. Despite your realization about your counterpart's long limbs and the bed's shortcomings, you wanted to extend an offer of chivalry.
Yunho twisted around and sent you an incredulous look. “What?”
“You drove us up here,” you replied with a shrug. You swiftly draped your sleep clothes over one arm and gathered your bag of toiletries in the other. “And you waited for me to finish my exam and you're kinda being dealt the short end of the stick with this room.”
He sat down on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, and though his face was still pulled into the same expression, he laughed. “Yn, I hate to break it to you, but I think you're gonna fit better on that bed than I will.”
You pursed your lips, gazing over at the narrow slot on the floor between the other sloping roof and the bed. That was the only other place someone could sleep in this room. “I don't want you to sleep on the floor though.”
“I know I was complaining, but don't worry about it,” he reassured as he turned back to dig through his duffle. He flicked his wrist blindly in your direction. “You can wash up first; I'll set everything up.”
Since he left little to no room for argument, you resolved to do as he suggested. There was a community washroom on the floor below that you made your way toward. As unfortunate as your accommodation was for the night, you were eager to head back up and go to sleep. Yours and Yunho's friends were all waiting at Seonghwa's cabin already, and perhaps it wasn't just exhaustion that made you antsy for this night to get a move on.
You and Yunho just needed to get through tonight. It would be fine.
When you returned to the attic crawl space, Yunho had everything set up as he said he would. He'd found an extra set of sheets from one of the downstairs closets and laid it on the ground by the bed, then rationed one of the blankets for himself and the other for you on the bed.
You let out a tired sigh and trudged over to the bed to grab the pillow from where it rested on the headboard. You set the pillow instead at the head of Yunho's sleeping situation, then balled up one of your jackets to use as your own pillow. Once satisfied, you climbed into bed, and you were out like a light.
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Everything was hazy as you emerged from deep sleep to confused half-consciousness. The room was descended into darkness, the sounds of light rain drumming steadily against the sloped rooftop above your head. Your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton—why had you suddenly woken up?
Then you heard it.
“Achoo.” Then another one. And another one.
Even half dead, your brain could put two and two together. You rolled over slightly to wave your arm over the side of the bed, hand flapping around until you bumped Yunho's shoulder. “Hey, Yunho.”
Another sneeze.
“Yun, get your butt up here.”
He grunted. “'m fine.”
“You're gonna get sick,” you grumbled with your face half squished against your jacket zipper. That was definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. “Come up here, for fuck's sake.”
He made another noise, perhaps of acknowledgment, before you heard sounds of movement.
You kept your eyes half-lidded to keep as much light out as possible, and rolled over again. As he crawled onto his knees, and then his feet, you opened up your blanket to him so he could join you.
“Pillow,” he slurred—you whined when it hit you in the face. “Sorry.”
In a drowsy drugged tango, you swapped your jacket out for the pillow and Yunho wormed his way onto the bed beneath your blanket. You scooted as close to the wall as you could, but even then, Yunho was pressed flush against you. His arms came around your waist, his nose wedging itself between your neck and shoulder until he was comfortable.
“Your feet are cold,” you muttered. “Get them under the blanket.”
“Too tall.”
“Show off.”
He huffed out a puff of air against your neck like a laugh, then tucked his knees up slightly to fit under the blanket. Your legs were now tangled among his, your bodies curled tightly together. In the morning, you would rationalize it out as creating body heat to prevent either of you from getting sick.
When movement stopped, you voiced into the darkness, “Better?”
A content sigh. “Better.”
Maybe this accommodation wasn't so bad after all.
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ateez m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet
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chuusheartattck · 2 months
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THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)
Chapter 20- Shambles ☕️
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After Nilou and Ayaka’s performance, it was time for another award winner. This time, it was for Scaramouche’s category. If he won best leading role then that means he’ll only need one more category to win.
You were still behind with only needing three more categories to win. You weren’t sure what your punishment would be if you lost. Knowing him, it’d probably be something humiliating.
Lyney and Lynette were announcing the nominees. You quickly glance over to Scaramouche, his indigo eyes already looking at you.
It was almost as if his eyes were teasing you. Saying that he’s for sure going to win. It was frustrating to say the least.
“Alright, now the winner for the best leading role is…” Lynnette begins to open the envelope containing the name. The suspense was killing you. Even if he did win this category, he didn’t necessarily win the bet. It would just put him to an advantage. An advantage you didn’t want.
Lyney snatches the envelope from Lynette, “THE WINNER IS DILUC IN TOP GUN MAVERICK!!”
Relief washes over you. Scaramouche lost one of the categories, meaning you were on the road to winning the bet. He’s no longer in the competition.
You couldn’t help but stand up and start clapping, really obnoxiously. Cheering so loud that the others around you take notice. It seems like you were more happy for the win than Diluc himself.
Noticing people looking at you, you quickly sat down embarrassed. That’s when you turned to Scaramouche and locking eyes. You can feel the anger emanating off of him. It was so satisfying to see him lose something for once. You playfully stuck out your tongue. Instead of doing the same, he only flipped you off.
What a sore loser.
.
The award show went on and you had already won best new artist and best solo performance. Making sure to make direct eye contact with Scaramouche everytime you gave your acceptance speech.
You only needed one more category. Best music video of the year. This will be announced after you and Xiao’s performance towards the end of the night.
Which happens to be right now.
You were sitting in the stylist chair getting your hair and makeup done. It was your first performance at an award show so naturally you have anxiety over it. You haven’t really talked to Xiao besides him congratulating you on your wins and him occasionally glancing over to your table.
After your hair and makeup, you finally put on your stage outfit. It fit nicely and you already knew it was going to trend on twitter. Satisfied with everything, you headed out onto the stage.
That’s when you bumped into Xiao finally.
“Are you ready?” His eyes looking at you up and down. You felt a bit flustered by this.
“Yeah I am. Is there something wrong with my outfit?”
“No it looks good.”
“Thanks. You look…nice too.”
Fuck why did you say that?
Who says that?
It’s hard complimenting guys.
You both walk to the stage and he goes up first while you get in place for when it’s your time to go.
His song starts.
.
It was at the end of the performance and both of you are locked onto each other’s gazes. You’re starting to get déjà vu from the first time you guys practiced. The cheers and the screams from people were starting to get blocked out.
Xiao kept looking down at your lips and then at your eyes. Signaling if he had permission. You could feel the crowd wanting you guys to do something.
Your hand reaches up, brushing gently against his cheek. You can see him leaning in, your lips only inches apart.
Doubt flickers in your eyes and you pull him into a tight embrace instead. You knew you couldn’t do this. It wasn’t fair to Xiao knowing you hold no feelings towards him. The tension breaks and Xiao wraps his arms around you, flashing a hint of disappointment.
The audience is still applauding, oblivious to the almost kiss that just transpired. For you and Xiao, it was going to linger on your guy’s minds.
You didn’t want to kiss Xiao knowing he was watching the entire time.
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Once you and Xiao got done changing back to your original outfits, you both headed back to your respective tables. You turned to Scaramouche who was looking down.
The edible probably took a toll on him.
Now was the time to announce your final nomination. You have won all your categories so far. You were pretty confident you were going to win this one. You worked hard on the music video, if it didn’t win then this award show is rigged.
The incredibly famous movie director, Alhaitham was announcing the nominees and of course, the winner. As soon as your name was called for the nominations, Scara’s head perked up.
Alhaitham cleared his throat, “Without further ado..” He begins to open up the envelope.
Why do these people like to pause for a while before announcing the name?
You and Scara were both on the edge of your seats for different reasons. You needed to win and Scara needed you to lose.
Alhaitham finally opened up the envelope, “The winner for best music video of the year goes to…Barbara with her song we can’t be friends!”
Jaw fucking dropped.
You stood there with your mouth open flabbergasted. You turn to Scara who was up from his seat clapping and cheering more than anyone else.
Someone seemed a little too happy.
He glanced over at you and smirked before sitting down. Looks like nobody won the bet.
Whatever.
Besides, you and Hu Tao needed to get ready to announce the final category of the night.
Male actor of the year.
Which means this is the final category that Scara is nominated for. You both already lost the bet so it didn’t matter if he won or not. It’d just be hella awkward if you were the one that presented the award to him. It probably won’t happen anyways.
After Albedo’s performance, you and Hu Tao make your way up to the stage. You’re the one carrying the envelope.
Hu Tao was the first to speak, “Tonight has been an incredible night. One nobody can ever forget. Y/n and I have met some incredible people so far. Lumine, Alhaitham, Scaramouche.”
You quickly interrupted her at the mention of his name.
“Eugh anyway.” You rolled your eyes.
Gasps and laughter erupted from the audience. The camera panned to Scaramouche only shaking his head. You were definitely going to get a scolding from Furina, but you didn’t care.
Hu Tao finished giggling and continued with her dialogue, “Thank you for that Y/n. Now as the last category of the night we like to announce male actor of the year. The nominees are Childe, Scaramouche, Baizhu, and Diluc.”
As you open the envelope you finish the dialogue, “The male actor of the year goes to..”
You look down and see the name of someone you wish you didn’t start beef with 10 seconds ago.
Scaramouche.
You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation at hand, “Interesting… Scaramouche!” You gave a painful obvious fake smile as the crowd gives their applause.
You can see Scara slowly making his way up to the stage. You, of course, were the lucky person handing him the award.
Mona set you up big time.
“Thank you both. Thanks to everyone who voted for me. I don’t really know what else to say.” Scara paused for a brief moment. “Thank you to my fans, to my company and my friends who helped me along the way. Couldn’t have done it without you guys.”
Scara quickly walks off stage as the crowd claps once again. He ends up walking next to you and Hu Tao backstage.
“The opps are upon us.” You try whispering to Hu Tao.
“I can hear you. You’re not very quiet.”
“That’s the point.” You walked ahead of them, leaving Hu Tao and Scara alone together.
“What’s their problem?” Scara began to ask Hu Tao.
“They’re still mad that you’ve been ghosting them again.”
“Ok and? I don’t know what they expect from all this. They shouldn’t get their hopes up.”
Hu Tao stops right in front of him, “You can’t just start talking to them again and expect them not to care once you go ghost. You know the type of thing you guys had in high school. It doesn’t just disappear. If you don’t stop with your antics it’s going to end up the same.”
Scara threw his head back in a fit of laughter, “Why should I care? It’s not like this ever meant anything for the both of us. Y/n just likes the attention any guy gives them. They can fuck around with Xiao for all I care.”
“For fucks sake! Y/n doesn’t like Xiao. It was just a performance.”
Scara didn’t have the energy to continue arguing. He began to walk away from her.
“Why do you hate Y/n so much?” Hu Tao called out.
Scara stopped dead in his tracks, “I don’t hate Y/n. I just forgot about them.” He didn’t even turn to look at her. He only walked away again, leaving the girl behind.
Thankfully the night finally ended as you guys head back to the company car. Hu Tao didn’t feel ready to tell you about her conversation with Scara. Maybe another time she will.
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Masterlist II Previous II Next
A/N: The last chapter of act 2!! Act 3 will be super messy. Alsoo in case you were wondering what the performance looked like, just imagine xiao singing his song on the piano. After it’s done he plays a few notes of espresso on the piano then opens an envelope that says “thats that me espresso.” Then espresso starts playing and y/n performs blah blah blah. Then they perform the cover song together then the end. (I’m not creative when it comes to stuff like this pls bear with me).
ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)
Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.
Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @skyvella @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy @scaradooche @theyluvkatt @meigalaxy @noirechomps @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @vxcmx @ariesloves @cayl33n @animeobsessed56 @heartsforni-ki @feikyuu @ichcocat @strayharmony943 @chscklvr @kunikissr @jiminscarmex
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Text
Daze
(AO3 Mirror) (Main Masterlist) (Event Masterlist) (Event Info)
-> part of my 6k followers event!
Tape 1 // Side A Track 02: Daze - Steve Lacy Miguel O'Hara x First Love
summary: You pick out an outfit for New Year's. Miguel helps where he can.
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, love confessions, PIV, nipple sucking (m-receiving). 18+, Minors DNI
a/n: this is so cheesy and lovey-dovey and self-indulgent. happy new year's everyone <3
wc: 2.3k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey (you put me in a)
Daze (each and every)
Day (so in love with everything you do, I'm really feelin' you) 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Miguel doesn’t think he’s built for love.
Really, well and truly; it fits across his frame wrong. He tucks it into a stiff waistband like the collared shirts his mamá made him wear to church. Maybe if he pressed it out - lain on your sheets like those pretty dresses you’ll drape on your shoulders - it would sit right. Settle across him like skin - something real. Human. And like Pinocchio on a stage; he rattles around your bedroom, searching for the strings. 
If you see him in the corner of your eye, you don’t react. Miguel tries to make himself look busy, flattening silky fabric with his hands. He’s distracted, thinking about puppets and widowers and love stuck between sharp teeth like blood and sinew. The more he ponders, the more resolute he becomes: Miguel doesn’t think he’s built for love.
Oh, but… you. Love looks like a dream on you, he thinks. You’re in front of a mirror, humming and hawing; tilting your head this way and that. It takes his breath away; lip tucked under teeth, delicate hands spread flat on the fabric, the way your lashes flutter in the light. It pools out from under you like dappled hues on a summer day: love, warm and ochre-tinted around your form. You… you were built for it; made to be loved. Like the first time he met you - and it always feels like the first time, for some reason - he’s drawn in, chasing your smile like a flash of light across the sky. Fireworks couldn’t compare, he thinks: flashbangs and roman candles, sparklers and their gentle fizz and crackle - they pale in comparison to the way your eyes shine when you see him.
“What do you think?” You turn, chewing at your cheek. It makes his heart skip a beat, the way you look at him.
He blinks, thinking back to the last time you wore it. One of your first proper dates, and he had opened the door to a vision. You’d look beautiful in it, you always do. “You look–”
“It’s not too plain? I like the fabric but I’m too sure about the waist.”
“Mi vida, it’s–”
“I could go with the green one…” You pick up a bundle of fabric by your feet. “But I think it’s too revealing. Dramatic. Too many ruffles, like a prom dress.”
He hums, thinking back to when he had bought you that dress. How you had looked at it in a shop window; wide, forlorn eyes like a baby deer; and the way you lit up when he arrived with it at your doorstep. “Baby, you could–”
“What do you think your coworker’s will be wearing?” You turn to him suddenly, eyes bright. “I need to see the invite again, want to make sure I’ve got the right dress code. It’s… I mean… I should look classy, right?”
“If you want.” He says, stepping closer.
You’re huffing, rummaging through the depths of your wardrobe. 
“That’s not a real answer, Mig.” 
He pads to your side, and you feel a hand curl around the fat of your waist. It's warm, poking underneath the little tank top you've been wearing. His fingertips, impossibly rough and soft at the same time, rub circles into hip bone. 
“Baby.”
You ignore him, grunting with frustration. 
“You're overthinking.” He says it soft, wrapping his arms around your waist. 
Steadfast, you continue to rifle through the wardrobe. You're stubborn, this much he knows, pressing gentle kisses into the juncture of your jaw. 
Eventually, you soften, hands on his as he hugs you from behind. 
“I just–” You start, turning around to give him a look akin to a half-drowned puppy. “I want them to like me.”
“You brighten up every room, mi vida. Why wouldn't they like you?” He smooths away a deepening furrow by your brow, kissing it better. 
And when you melt, sinking into his arms and burrowing your face into the crook of his neck, all he can hear is the pounding of his heart. 
“Don't laugh.” You say it into the side of his neck, creating warmth that blooms from his chest to fingertips. 
“Never.” He means it. Of course, he means it. 
“I want to look like I belong next to you.”
It makes him short circuit. Miguel blinks; once, twice. He blinks a third time, gently pushing you up by your shoulders. 
“You-” He's incredulous, hardly able to process the implication of what you've just said. “You want to look like you belong next to me?”
Shakily, you nod. 
“You're amazing. Smart and kind and talented… and if they don't know it already at work then they're idiots. So,” You chew your lip, as if mulling over the right words.” I know it's just New Year's, and it's a stupid work thing, and you probably don't care… but I'm so proud of you. I want to show you off, tonight. I want to shine like you do, Mig.”
It makes him smile, thinking back to all the times he gushes about you at work. Usually quiet, generally reserved; but everything reminds him of you. Your hair, your smile, the very first time you laughed at a stupid joke of his. The way your shoulders sag after a long day, the way you curl up to his side on the couch everytime, without fail. 
Your favourite foods, your favourite colour, the way you marvel at his long lashes in bed or poke his frown lines in the morning. The gentle way in which you love him. The way he would bend over backwards to make you feel just a fraction of the love he has for you. 
“Oh God.” You groan. “Don't look at me like that. I said… don't laugh… I specifically told you not to–”
He sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to bed slung over his shoulder. In a heap of giggles, you land on soft sheets with a gentle thump, chasing away cold hands pressed all over your body. 
Miguel tosses off the clothes littered across the bed, whilst you lunge for your precious silks. 
You're laughing, writhing at the strong hands that pull you closer to his chest. “What's gotten into you?”
He's breathless, pressing kisses to the fat of your thighs. His hands travel up, hooking underneath tiny shorts. Like a man possessed, he massages the rise and fall of plush flesh, eyes trained on yours as his mouth dips low. Lower, into the crease of skin where your thighs meet your gorgeous folds, where soft cotton underwear is eaten up by your cunt. 
“Mig!” You sit up on your haunches, hand in his hair to pull him up. 
He looks at you, entranced, red-brown eyes sparkling as he rests his head on your thigh. 
“I love you.” 
And he says it like the first breath on a cold winter’s day; letting the words curl into the air like crystal and vapour. Gentle, oh-so soft.
“Oh.” It knocks the wind right out of your sails. “Well… I love you too.”
He shakes his head, sitting up in a display that has you scratching your head.
“No, baby. I love you.”
You frown. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” 
“I love you.” He grabs your hands, pulling them to his chest. “I love you. I love you I love you I love-”
“Miguel.” You say it slowly, cradling his head in your palms, tilting him this way and that to examine his face - currently cracked into a dopey grin. Unconsciously, you brush away a stray curl that springs up by his forehead. “I love you. But I don’t really understand what’s going on. Did you take something? Hit your head? Do I need to call Gabi?  Because he really wouldn’t–”
“I went to the mall about a month ago, after — I think it was the day after we had dinner at Pesci’s and you said that you haven’t had a good churro in years–”
“No, I said the last time I had a churro was at Six Flags–”
He looks at you blankly. “Same thing, babe. So I went shopping for ingredients, went to that market, passed the shop that sells the weird looking plushies and then…” He takes a breath. “I passed the hardware store. Key cutting for half-off, or something, and I didn't even think about it. Just did it. Got a copy made of my keys and put it in a little ring box that's been burning a hole in my pocket for God knows how long.”
“I've been waiting for a good time to ask. I mean… I thought it was too soon but Gabi thinks it's time and Pete says it's not soon enough. And you've already got half your clothes at mine, and your mugs, and that fucking… rat’s nest of a jewellery plate that I gave you and you refuse to throw away.”
“It's pretty, Mig.”
“Lyla made me go to a pottery class once and I will never hear the end of it. Say the word and I will smash it into a million pieces.” You giggle and it makes him smile even wider. “You said you've always wanted a cat, and your building doesn't allow pets but mine does. Which is such a shame, because you'd be a great cat mom. The best.”
He gives you a weak smile, voice shaking imperceptibly. But you notice - because of course you do. 
“I love you so much it hurts. Sometimes I lie awake at night and stare at you like a fucking creep because I don't know what I did to get so lucky. How did I find someone as brilliant and beautiful and bright as you? And you want me? When you could have anyone else?”
“So I'm asking now - and there's no pressure, of course,” He takes a deep breath. “Will you move in with me? Please?”
His sincerity bowls you over, knocks your hair back like a hurricane-force wind. Miguel, stoic and ever the voice of reason, spilling his guts out to you in a sickly sweet daze. He's usually so forthright and upfront - and the image of him tossing and turning about the perfect time to ask you makes tears swell at the corner of your eyes. God, and then you're laughing; lost in gasping peals of giggles as he looks on, confused. 
“You…” You wipe away fat tears. “You think the best time to ask me is when I've got my pants halfway down my legs?”
Oh. Heat rises to his cheeks, and he buries his head in the covers. 
Gently, you nudge him. “That's a yes, Miguel, if you couldn't tell.”
When he smiles; wide and lopsided and exposing deep dimples either side of his face; you wrap him up in a hug that turns carnivorous, pressing obnoxious kisses everywhere you can. Eventually, you toss off your shorts and wrap bare legs around his torso, flipping him over with your hands planted by his sides. You put your lips on his, hungrily, chasing that deep, rumbling laugh that always sets you on fire. 
You kiss it into skin, making sure he'll carry it around for as long he can: love - caring and unquestioning and blinding. It wraps around him like a well-worn sweater, the slightly-itchy kind his mamá would give him for Christmas. For the first time in his life, Miguel realises; it fits. 
It makes him swallow roughly, and open his mouth wider, slipping his tongue to those spots he knows you like. It makes him shudder and shake and press you up against him impossibly close, grinding his hard length into the thin fabric at your cunt. 
Before he knows it, you've pushed the gusset aside, enveloping him between your plush walls and sinking down on his cock with incredible heat. It burns, the way you touch him, fingertips tracing his torso as you lift up his shirt. Miguel doesn't know where to look as you peel it off him – back arched deliciously as you latch onto his nipple. 
“F-Fuck.” He stutters, one hand gripping plush thigh and the other at the back of your neck. You’re messy - and wet - slobbering at his chest as he grinds up into your pussy. 
He's so, so close in no time at all. Your cunt flutters around him like you know, and then you're both falling; sinking into each other's bones in a wispy haze. 
Settling in his chest, panting and fucked out, you look up. You trace his wispy lashes, stunned by the way light kisses its peripheries, caught in golden flecks in his irises. 
“I don't like it when you talk about yourself like that.” 
You put an ear to his ribcage, steadied by its slow thump. 
“Like what?” He says it lightly, hoping the slight shake to his voice doesn't betray him. 
“Like you don't deserve to be loved.” Rolling over, you wrap your legs around his middle once more. You want to look him in the eye when you say it, so there is no misinterpreting your next words. “Because you do. Because you are.”
Miguel cups your cheek with a tenderness that makes your heart splinter. He kisses you with that same tenderness, stumbling over himself to show what his words can't. He’ll fall asleep to the gentle rise and fall of your chest, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. He’ll wrap himself around you like two pieces of a puzzle; like you were made for one another.
If Miguel isn’t built for love, then this feeling that bubbles up in his ribcage must be something else: spreading to his fingertips and toes like hot chocolate and fresh churros whilst you watch the fireworks, light fizzing and crackling across a cool night. If Miguel isn’t built for love, then the ring he’s wrapped up in a sock won’t make its way onto your left hand during a gentle night like this one.
He surveys the mess you’ve made of the bedroom. Dresses and bedsheets and fancy shoes all over the floor, and you’ve fallen asleep in the midst of it all. Miguel pulls you closer; clearing his head of widowers and puppets and love woven into silk sheets and scraggly blankets all the same.
Oh well, he thinks. He’s got the rest of his life with you to figure that out. 
_
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webslingingslasher · 4 months
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Hii Ik your resquests are currently closed so you obvs don’t have to do it but when you’re up for it could you please do a part 2 w nerdy Peter on their first date. But take your time to rest and everything just thought I’d put this in for good measure ❤️
*cleaning out my drafts*
pt 1.
'first time?' peter slightly turns, it's an older man, probably mid forties and he gets an instant dad vibe. he's comfortable nodding at his question.
he's been standing in front of bouquets for at least seven minutes, nothing seems right. peter wants to make the best impression, but what if he got your least favorite flowers?
'is it a date?'
peter nods again, 'yeah. and she's super out of my league.'
the dad smiles, 'they usually are.' then steps up, he takes his time looking over each flower wrapped in cellophane.
'there's not much to go wrong on, kid. don't get the artificially dyed ones and choose something with some flowers that haven't opened up all the way. they'll last longer and smell better.'
peter feels alright with speaking his nerves to him, 'what if she hates them?'
his temporary mentor picks up a bouquet, it looks beautiful, he was right. the plastic is pushed into peter's chest, his hand wraps around the stems. 'then you bought flowers for an asshole, don't make the same mistake twice.'
it makes peter feel better, he really doesn't think he's buying flowers for an asshole.
-----
you like them. at least he thinks you do, your face lit up and you were quick to do a smell test. you even told him he did a good job at picking them out.
'these are beautiful, peter!' he's lucky he didn't buy flowers for an asshole. you delicately set them down, 'these are going in my room, by the way.' you didn't dare share the beauty with the rest of the house.
'i'm glad you like them,' he really is. peter feels the need to add how nice you look, he's not too sure on how to compliment a woman but he knows he has to try.
'you um, you look very pretty.' yikes, that sounds like he doesn't think you're pretty the rest of the time. 'you always look very pretty, but this is a different kind, like, cause it's the first time i've seen you all dressed up.'
did he just tell you he likes you better this way? peter widens his eyes, the date hasn't even started and he's already sweating. 'i mean, you didn't have to dress up for me, wait, no, you dressed for yourself. but i just meant...' he really doesn't know what he meant, but you look entirely way too amused at his fluster.
'keep going, i'm really enjoying this.'
a gentle tease at his nervous personality. he really likes it coming from you.
'i'd rather not.'
you smile wide, 'i love hearing how pretty i am tonight, but actually all the time, but differently this time, but also not. and how you like my outfit, but not too much, because all my other outfits look just as good and i definitely don't dress for the male gaze.'
it sounds like you're making fun of him, but your smile tells him you actually really like it.
'don't worry, peter. i'd act the same way if you were in a tux.' peter glances down, 'should i go put one on?' biting your lip at his joke, you push his shoulder, 'next time.'
peter's head is spinning when you pull him out the door by his hand, it's been five minutes and there's already another? you must have a thing for socially awkward guys.
---
peter watches you glance around the restaurant, he hopes he picked good. it's nice, but not nice enough to be weird.
'you're pulling out all the stops for me, mr. parker.'
peter hopes you don't notice his blush, he thinks you do when you lean closer. 'i mean, flowers and a medium fancy restaurant? you're raising my standards very quickly.'
you mean it, too. peter knows he has no experience under the belt but you've been on a few dates, nothing that stuck from what he's overheard but he can't fathom how this tops any of it.
'really? i thought you would've had better dates.'
you hum, 'maybe. one question for you, then i can let you know if this is the best date.' peter can handle that, he's good at questions. 'i'm ready.'
'what can i get to drink?'
peter tilts his head, he might not be that good at questions. 'anything you want?'
it's the right answer, you grin across the table. 'i can get a coke and you won't cheap out on me?'
peter laughs, that's what he was up against? 'so i can pay for a dinner but draw the line at soda?'
you don't directly confirm it, 'some would.'
'as long as it's not rootbeer, i'm alright with it.' your eyebrow raises, 'not a fan?' peter scoffs, 'it's like the kitchen sink of sodas, it poured all the leftovers into a giant vat and lied to everyone about liking it.'
you laugh quietly, 'who's it?'
peter is completely serious, 'capitalism.' you bite back a grin as he shifts forward a little. 'so, um, was your dad mad that you canceled for me?' your fingers tap the table, 'nope. not when i told him why.'
'wow, the first dad i know who's okay with their daughter dating.'
you stop him, 'oh, he's not crazy about the dating part. he likes the who.'
peter can't help but feel slightly offended, 'am i really that non-threatening?' suddenly your dad was okay when he was the suitor? peter really is out of his league and everyone knows it.
'oh no, you're the most threatening of them all. you're the only guy i've ever liked, so my dad was excited for me, but also a little scared because you're the strongest bet at his daughter dating someone.'
peter's heart is thumping harder than it ever has, if he wasn't in your eyesight he'd be counting his pulse. he wants to kick himself a little, he has no idea how much time he's wasted by not asking sooner. how many guys have you wished were him?
he's not able to respond, but you don't mind. the waiter has your attention, when he asks for your drink you shoot a look at peter with a gleam in your eye.
'do you have rootbeer?'
peter thinks he's gonna have a girlfriend real soon.
-----
on the walk back to your home, you had forced your fingers between his. peter can't remember the last time he held hands with someone, but it feels nice holding yours.
you swing them back and forth as you talk, he thinks the deal was secured when he brushed chocolate crumbs off your cheek from dessert because immediately after you had tied your hand into his and held him close.
'i had a very nice night, and just in case you need me to say it, that was the best date i've ever had.'
peter feels shy, but it's welcomed with you. 'you're just saying that cause i bought you rootbeer.'
you bump your elbow against his, 'next time i'll buy you a milkshake.' you weren't lying, you had a nice night. so nice you want to do it again and if peter's really lucky, you'll want to keep doing it forever.
'careful, i'll hold you to that.' he really will, peter loves milkshakes.
'i will, i love milkshakes. i have a secret place i go to all the time in the west village.' peter's eyes widen, 'west village? that's a haul for a milkshake.'
you press a hand to your forehead, 'oh no! a whole afternoon with you, how yucky!' peter hides his smile, it's nice that you want him around. 'if we get milkshakes does that mean you want a second date?'
'yes. and if i do good enough you might want a third out of me.' peter laughs, it's adorable you think he might want a third date. 'we might as well plan the fourth one now, huh?'
you bounce your arm off his. 'i think you should kiss me.' peter's jolted from his date daydream. kiss? peter plays it cool. 'what, right now?' he can't hide anything, you hear an undertone of panic but you skim over it.
'well, i'd prefer if it wasn't at my front door where i'm at risk of being seen because if my dad catches you all over me before he could meet you, i don't think he'll like you anymore.'
'so i should kiss you? right now?' peter's voice is hitched, you didn't mean to throw him off his game. you know he's a little more reserved so you were giving him the open shot, but you think you stressed him out even more.
'you don't have to! i was just offering because i thought you were going to try and do something at my door.'
peter's thankful for the night sky and the cool breeze that's chilling his burning face. 'i've never kissed anyone.' peter stops walking because you stopped. you've got an open jaw and a dead stare on him.
'repeat that.'
he'd rather not. 'i've never kissed anyone.'
you shake your head, the words aren't making sense. 'one more time.'
this is kind of a nightmare. 'i've never kissed anyone.'
'you're lying, right? this is a joke?' why is peter feeling a little insulted right now? 'it's not weird. i know several people who haven't kissed anyone yet.'
you scrunch your face up. 'no, peter, i'm not judging you because you haven't. i'm confused about how you haven't. like, no girl has ever tried to kiss you?'
'no.' it's an instant answer.
'not even as a kid or something?'
'never.'
you feel offended on his behalf, oh well, more for yourself. you stand straighter and give him what he's been missing out on. 'if you'd let me, i'd love to kiss you.'
'really?' sure, peter might've scored a second date but a kiss too? his first one at that. 'yeah.' you step up, peter can feel his heart pounding. he knows he's awkward, he's unsure of his stance, he doesn't know how to lean into it.
'it's instinct. don't panic, okay?' easier said than done because peter swears he's at risk of throwing up when you loop your arms around his neck. you bounce up on your feet, just a tad, the rest of your weight brings peter down to your level.
there's a brief moment of nerves but they're not bad. it's exciting, it's thrilling, it's new. your gaze bounces between his eyes and his mouth, you think he catches on and does the same.
one final moment before you seal the deal, peter parker is going to be all yours. your heart races when you lean in, your lips brush against his feather soft.
one, two- you swear sparks fly. peter's warm and gentle. he's unsure and it makes the kiss so much better. a hesitant hold on your hips when your chest bumps his, you add a little movement- you're not trying to add too much, but god, you'd pay fat dollars to explore him further.
peter pulls away first, you almost claw him back into you. 'i'm sorry.' you lightly shake your head, he has nothing to be sorry for. 'i think i'm bad at kissing.'
'you couldn't be farther from the truth, parker. you're the best one.'
peter doesn't believe you for a second. 'really?'
'yeah. cause it's you.'
peter melts. 'i think you're an angel sent from heaven for me.' peter isn't sure if he's religious or not, and he was leaning towards not but now he thinks there has to be angels because you're proof of one.
you look away, you've never been complimented like that before. an unearthly creature whose only purpose was divine intervention, how could you not give him another kiss?
peter's surprised at this one.
'what was that for?'
'because you're really nice, super smart and kind of the hottest person i've ever seen.' compliments? you're giving him compliments? 'that's nice, but i think you're talking to yourself.'
you frown. a true grumpy look crosses over your face. 'don't do that. don't sell yourself short or act like you're not deserving of praise because i'm going to be doing a lot of it and i need you to accept it.'
before he could try to fight it, you start pulling him along. you do have a curfew after all. peter's fighting back disbelief. 'angel. i swear you're an angel.'
you shrug, 'i'm your angel.'
'you are.'
when you get home, you get a third kiss. and this time, peter kisses you. 
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apomaro-mellow · 8 months
Text
Every Baby Needs a Daddy 10
Part 9
EDDIE MUNSON'S NEW HOT PIECE?
The lead guitarist of acclaimed band Corroded Coffin is never far from a pretty face. What's the scoop on the newest one hanging off his arm? While their latest album Darkest Knights is climbing the charts is it possible that he's climbing into the sheets with a mystery man?
Steve scrolled through the article, expecting to find some highly invasive information from a sneaky journalist. But most of the writing was just telling readers who Eddie was and a couple of people he had publicly dated in the past. Probably because it was a mainstream publication and they didn't expect their usual viewers to know anything about a metal band.
The picture they used was of when they got to the venue the night of the concert. Eddie had walked Steve in with an arm around his waist. He went in search for any other information or reactions to this news. He wasn't an idiot. Fans could get pretty possessive over their idols. He was ever thankful that he wasn't very active online. At least not to the point where people could easily find and harass him.
Steve had always cautioned against reading too many comments on things. Online communities could quickly turn negative. But he had to see what they were saying about him and Eddie if he had any chance of defense.
Twitter was full of people giving their two cents either in their own posts or under other articles that were all saying the same thing. #CorrodedCoffin and Eddie Munson were both trending.
Quite a few weren't happy at the idea of Eddie shacking up with someone they had never seen before. Add to that the changed tour schedule and they were extra upset.
ro @ alittleunsteady i can't believe a random omega is taking care of eddie he's probably some money hungry whore
Right out the gate with that one. But Steve supposed it made sense from the outside, what with him being a nobody in the industry. And he was definitely benefitting off Eddie's money.
Star @ estrellamy who’s that wannabe? He even looks like a poser, look at his outfit, no way that’s real.
B @ bipanicroom replied: he's cute and I totally get Eddie wanting him for his rut but he definitely doesn't look the part for a long term omega I mean look at that polo shirt, our metal alpha needs some grunge
Okay, Steve laughed a little at those because, well, he stuck out next to Eddie. He'd mentioned perhaps changing his look to blend in with the crowd and Eddie had immediately vetoed it.
"Those bright ass jeans are like a lighthouse to this weary vessel", he had said. To which, Steve reminded him you're supposed to steer away from lighthouses.
"Whatcha laughin' at?", Eddie asked as he came back into the bedroom, carrying a tray of food.
Steve contemplated telling him about the cat being out of the bag, but it wasn't like they were keeping it a secret. It was just...something they didn't need to announce. He sat up, letting the blanket pool at his hips. They could keep the outside world outside just a little longer.
"Just some memes", then he took a deep breath as Eddie opened the curtain of their den. "Smells good."
Eddie put the tray across Steve's lap. "Pesto grilled cheese. With sun dried tomatoes."
"Fuck, that sounds good." Steve's stomach growled in agreement.
He and Eddie ate in bed, thankfully only getting a minimal amount of crumbs on it and cuddled. Eddie was the big spoon while Steve looked at some more comments. There were a few in a thread trying to figure out who he was and what his deal was. It seemed for as many as there were decrying Steve's fashion sense and how he was probably a gold digger, even twice as many were either in support or neutral.
He went to one of Eddie's fan pages which had a good amount of followers for their thoughts.
stream cc's darkestknights @ yourlove Omg y’all are so dumb, he is a literal rockstar why are you guys asking for explanations? That could be his boyfriend or just some rando, as long as I get good music who cares? Get a life atp really💀
Maple @ maplehazelnusse replied: right??? calm down he wasn't get with you either way
Steve felt Eddie's teeth grazing his skin, not even really sinking in, just squeezing lightly across his shoulders. He put his phone under the pillow, deciding that it all could well and truly wait. Eddie needed his full attention right now, even if he wasn't outright whining for it anymore.
While they spent another day wrapped up in each other, the media was having its usual field day. Eddie's unexpected rut would have made news on its own with it disrupting a tour. But add to it an omega that most of the world had never seen and it was a whole circus.
There were plenty who had actual concern over Eddie because sudden hormonal changes weren't fun. A youtuber posted a video summarizing the events of the past couple of days and under their video was an entire conversation regarding this.
@ thegenericcookie 2 days ago shout out to eddie Munson repping all of us off cycle bitches I had to postpone SUBMITTING MY THESIS because a stupid rut was 10 days early for no goddamn reason😞
@ fastimesatfasttimes 2 days ago OMG same! Its so embarrassing like "yo prof i gotta take of and go fuck myself for a week" >.<
@ grapesofyass 3 days ago is now a gud time to mention some places give rut leave but not heat leave?
Of course, when things of this nature came up, many voiced their opinions of the relationship, simply unable to help themselves. Especially since neither party were at all forthcoming about it. Photos surfacing of the two of them at the club and the sushi restaurant added fuel to the fire.
Sappy @ crazytipper67 eddie munson seen with RaNdoM OmeGA like we havent seen him all over his new bf for nearly a month now 😒 🥱 let not forget Eddie doesnt need to explain shit to us fr
GareBear @ garethsstressball like for real not to be a stalker but anyone whos been payin attention knows these two have been goin out a while
tigger @ corrodedcoughin12 he literally took him on tour i wouldn't be surprised if eddie was like actually courting him old fashioned style hes that type
mya @ amerikanscy Since when has Eddie been one to keep an Omega for this long? I bet as soon as his rut is over he'll just move on to the next like he always does. Who cares if he's been seen with Eddie more than once--if they were really anything to each other then they wouldn't be hiding it.
kas @ neveroncelostbutfound I mean, go off ig 🫤 jeff is not taken tho, right? RIGHT?
helix @ judyjetsuuuun replied: bestie.... image.jpeg
Attached was a very clear photo of Steve dancing with Jeff the night of the club and the resurgence of those pictures sparked all new conversations as Steve was seen dancing with everyone except Eddie.
jill @ jeffsnumbuh1 i just think its funny how when i posted pics of jeff that nite they got a lukewarm response but when the same pics show up with the guy i cropped out (out of respect for his privacy) somehow those got hundreds of shares
Everyone online was having a time. But for some, it was an unfortunate time. As was the case for those that Steve had known back home. Dustin was only a few years younger than Steve. He was pretty much an adult now. But it didn't make it any easier to see a section of the internet thirsting after his old babysitter. Some comments were tame and some were not.
countess @ dollarsandstars omg yay eddie's in love, boo its not me but yay him
estrella @ starsnstripes4never daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry.
bips @eddiemunsons2ndhusband EDDIE MUNSON IS TAKEN IM SOBBING HIS OMEGA IS SO PRETTY THO
Mark @ marklyblakemore Are we going to get news about a baby Munson soon🫣
fangs @ dusterjacketsarecool can you guys not? the dude literally drove me to middle school and made me go to sleep AT curfew when he watched me
When Dustin left that comment, he had a split second where he wondered if he should delete it. There weren't a ton of pictures of him online but the internet was full of super sleuths who would be able to dig up a lot on Steve if they were able to find a connection and get his name. Dustin hadn't even known he and Eddie were a thing until the tabloids picked it up.
But when replies came, they all shared a similar sentiment. 'Lying for clout is still lying'. Most didn't believe he knew Eddie's new arm candy in real life. And maybe it was better that way. But still, he could talk to the rest of the gang about it because holy shit Steve was dating a celebrity. The texting in their group chat (the one without their older siblings because they didn't want any lectures) had been going crazy since the news broke.
Dustin: How long until we can start posting embarrassing photos of Steve for maximum impact?
Lucas: We gotta wait until they publish his name
Mike: You think Eddie's really gonna announce theyre dating?
Dustin: Only if he's gonna make an honest man out of Steve
Will: But what if it's just a fling? Did Steve tell anyone about this?
Max: Betcha he told robin
El: I'm going to post the one from when he took us to Comic Con.
Lucas: That's not an embarrassing pic
Will: Yeah it was objectively awesome
El: I know. That is why I want to post it :)
--------------------
Eddie could tell when he himself was done with his rut. He wasn't filled with an all consuming need to impregnate Steve. The thought was still attractive, but he could allot some brain power to other things now. Like the madhouse surrounding his love life that was going on. Eddie had never really announced it when he was dating. Then again, the last couple of times it had been with fellow famous people.
Media outlets knew them well and were able to craft their stories easily. He got asked about them during interviews but most of it was public knowledge already. This was the first time since making it big that he'd been seen with someone like Steve. The next time he made an appearance he was going to be asked about him. And there was no way he could just say 'he's my sugar baby, we fuck and then I buy him things'. Even if that was true on paper, it wasn't how Eddie really felt.
Steve was sitting on the couch, gazing intensely on his phone and Eddie was sure it was some discourse about him but when he ventured to look over his shoulder has saw that he was watching a stop motion lego video.
"Interesting entertainment?", he asked, coming around to sit next to him.
"They just make it so smooth, I don't understand", Steve said in awe.
"I was wondering if we could talk about the-", Eddie cleared his throat, "about the, you know, what people are saying."
"Yeah sure", Steve paused the video and put his phone down.
"So, we're gonna move the tour soon", Eddie started. "And at some point, like in the next week, I'll probably be expected to make some kind of statement."
Steve nodded, eyes full of sincerity and understanding and Eddie couldn't take that pointed at him. He shot up and began pacing around.
"Okay, here was the deal. You're my sugar baby, right?"
"Right", Steve answered with another nod.
"But like, and correct me if I'm wrong, we don't really do the things people normally do in this sort of relationship."
"It's not that we don't do them", Steve watched Eddie move back and forth like a caged animal. "We don't-you don't treat me like a sugar baby."
Eddie froze. "Have I been doing this wrong?"
Steve shook his head. "Eddie you've been fine, great even." He stood up and grabbed Eddie's hands. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better. 'Cause like, from what I've seen, a more, let's say experienced sugar daddy would have just assumed I'd assist with a rut. You assumed I wouldn't."
"I couldn't just put that on you. I know what I'm like during a rut", Eddie looked away sheepishly. "But you can't pin this aaaallll on me sweetheart. You haven't been acting very sugar babyish."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Like you're the expert?"
"I've seen a couple! I know that they're very keen on pointing to whatever catches their fancy and saying 'daddy buy me this'. And I know you have good taste in things. You could also stand to drape yourself over me much more in public. I'm frankly appalled that too many of my fans don't see you as someone important."
Steve blushed at all Eddie was describing and tried to hide behind his hands but since Eddie had them, he kept him from doing so.
"That sounds like...a lot. Are you okay with me being a lot?"
"You're asking a musician that?", Eddie raised a brow.
"I mean like, when I get really...involved with someone", Steve was avoiding the word 'dating', "I can get clingy, and like, really hungry for attention."
"Baby, I just spent a week with my face attached to your pussy. Which, for the record, I would have done even I wasn't under hormonal persuasion." Eddie kissed his knuckles and then breathed in deep. Steve still carried so much of him, even after a shower, and would for a while. In about a week, his scent wouldn't cling to him the way it was now, but for a moment, he could imagine Steve was wholly his.
"When I go out in front of cameras, I..." He wanted to tell them Steve was his omega, that he was officially courting and if the fates saw fit, would make him his mate.
"What?"
"What should I tell them?", Eddie asked.
Steve thought about what people already thought was going on. The world already assumed they were fucking. They didn't really announce that. The only real question was how permanent Steve was. Was he a fling or an actual boyfriend?
"What do you want me to be?", Steve asked in return.
Eddie's heart thumped in his chest. The false answer hung from his lips, ready to go. To keep them in this limbo for as long as he could. But that was no guarantee either. Besides, Eddie really wanted to make a proper den for Steve to make a proper nest. He wanted to take Steve back to his actual home. He wanted to meet this enigmatic Robin.
"I want you to be mine. And I wanna tell the world about it." Eddie knew that was the right response from the way Steve lit up.
Corroded Coffin ☑️@corrodedcoffinitsafishyall
The official Twitter of Corroded Coffin. Stream our new album Darkest Knights. And to the owner of the corrodedcoffinofficial handle, come outside we just wanna talk
corrodedcoffinband.com
150 Following 529k Followers
5 minutes ago Changed the password account again bc some knot-heads never heard of PR - Grant
8 minutes ago Btw his name is Steve and he's my sweetheart
10 minutes ago Post-rut clarity call that seein with my third eye
Eddie Munson ☑️ @ edmunsoncc
This is where I go when they kick me off the band account :(
1 minute ago they took my Stevie D:<
2 minutes ago They can take away my account privileges but they cant take away my Stevie
And the world knows his name! And the tour continues! What will happen as they travel down the east coast!? Stay tuned!
Part 11
Tag Team CLOSED
@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore
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vintageaustin · 8 months
Text
Strange love
Pairing: Nate Jacob’s x female reader
Warnings: choking angst a bit of fluff near the end cursing
Authors note: thank you to my wonderful wonderful girlfriend @asshlyyyy for the banner
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you were at some stupid party you´re friend maddie dragged you to. and honestly? you were so over it already. you weren't the type for parties, a lot of people actually wondered why you and maddie were friends.
nate fuckin jacobs you fucking hated his guts he was ripped in every edge but you were ought to admit, he was a fucking master piece that wasn´t even why you hated him. he bullied you or well it was more like teasing. He called you ¨monroe¨ because your plan was to move away and become some big Hollywood star. honestly it almost seemed like he was jealous because he on the other hand. was gonna be stuck in this fucking town forever,
you walked to the kitchen and sigh softly, speaking of the fucking devil there he was in all his glory. he was wearing a white shirt, with a black button up and black jeans. you quickly looked away and grabbed yourself and maddie a drink. before the devil could spot you, to be fair you didn't feel like dealing with nate to be very honest you never felt like dealing with nate.
but before you could even walk out of the damn kitchen. you felt someone grab your wrist with a very strong grip. you just knew it was him, ¨fucking hell¨ you muttered to yourself. and turned around ¨Hello nate¨ you said looking up at the 6´5 man. who even is 6 fucking 5 it feels unncessary to be that tall, ¨nice outfit found it in you´re grandma her closet?¨ he chuckled sinisterly.
You rolled your eyes and was about to speak up but he put his finger against your lips preventing you from speaking. “Uh-uh-uh why are you here?” He spat as if he had an issue with you and not his ex girlfriend who was grinding on some random dude his dick.
¨because if you are here maddie is here¨ he muttered grabbing your jaw kinda harsh. ¨she is now what is it to you.¨ you said pushing him off ¨it's a party Nate people are gonna be there. get.over.it¨ you muttered and walked away. downing both drinks you sat down. next to rue she looked over at you ¨didn't think i'd see you here¨. she chuckled which made you laugh.
¨honestly neither did i, but oh well what can i say i´m a fucking people pleaser¨. you laughed as you leaned you´re head back on the couch. little did you know nate was watching your every fucking move. he wanted you hell he needed you. he wanted to make you laugh, but at the same time he also wanted to hurt you and see you cry.
an hour or so passed and you were still strung out on the couch talking with rue. ¨That's the beauty of a secret you know you're supposed to keep it¨ you laughed. until you were interrupted by no one other than Nate Jacobs himself. ¨get up y/n¨ he spat, you looked a bit confused and shook your head. ¨no i´m not getting up?¨ you spat through your own theeth.
¨i said get the fuck up before i fucking help you¨ he almost yelled. you shook your head once more brushing him off and going back to youŕ conversation. This is when Nate decided he had enough of your little attitude and picked you up, as he threw you over his shoulder. you started to hit his back. ¨put me the fuck down nate this isn´t funny!¨ you yelled at him. but he just seemed to ignore you as he walked into the upstairs bathroom.
he placed you on the sink and grabbed your jaw kissing you. you kissed back moaning softly into his mouth, ¨nate not h-¨ you tried to whisper. in between the kiss but nate just ignored you as he started to assault your neck, ¨why the fuck are you wearing this skirt? do you not see the way people are looking at MY girl¨ he muttered against your neck softly biting it.
¨i´m not your fucking girl nate maddie is and maddie will always be, the thing that happened between us was once, ONE FUCKING TIME¨ you said tearing up. this is what he wanted right? he didn´t fucking care about you, you were a replacement until he got back together with maddie.
¨don´t fucking say that y/n¨ he said grabbing your neck and choking you slightly as he pushed your back against the wall. you groaned ¨the truth nate? one day you hate my fucking guts and the other your madly in fucking love with me.¨ you muttered and it looked like he was about to open his mouth again but then you spoke.
¨ I can see it from the way you're looking at me, you don't even think i'm worth your time, you are so offended that I follow all the rules except for yours that. You don't care about the person that I might be but I am so much more than you can see i´ve had enough you hear me, ENOUGH I'M DONE¨ you said and pushed him off you walking out of the bathroom. you basically ran down the stairs and out of the house as you ignored Nate calling your name.
you had enough of this, honestly you had enough of life itself. you were sick and tired of it. but you couldn't just leave the people you love behind could you..? you sighed as you got home. Once again you were home alone but you didn't mind. you got changed into more comfortable clothes as you heard repeated. knocks on your front door you sighed knowing exactly who it was.
you made your way downstairs and opened your front door. ¨nate i really don-¨ you sighed crossing your arms as nate let himself in. ¨no your gonna sit down on the fucking couch and listen to me for once.” he muttered, closing the door and looking at you, you sighed and sat on the couch thinking to yourself ¨this must be good¨.
nate looked at you ¨don´t you fucking get it y/n, i´m fucking in love with you.. you´re all i think about sure i'll admit it.. in the beginning i was using you to get over maddie. but that changed that changed the minute you ended up in the fucking hospital because you decided to slit your goddamn wrist.¨ he yelled. you were surprised he even cared at all… you didn't think it affected anyone that much let alone him.
¨please just give me a chance¨ he spoke softly now sitting next to you, ¨i'm not saying it's gonna be perfect or anything but… i want you and only you¨ he said and caressed your cheek leaning in pressing his lips to yours. and you gave in, the kiss was rough but sweet at the same time. it's like he craved you just as bad as you craved him. ÿou crawled onto his lap and nodded your head ¨okay one chance don't fuck it up¨ you muttered against his lips pulling away slightly.
he smiled softly kissing you more gently this time and smiled. when he pulled away you yawned, hinting it was time for bed. He chuckled softly and got up kissing your head as he carried you to your room. He took his shoes off and his jeans, leaving him in boxers and his shirt.
he pulled you closer kissing your cheek, ¨goodnight y/n¨ he whispered and you smiled already half asleep ¨goodnight nate¨.
you said and soon you both drifted off to sleep you knew it wasnt gonna be a easy relationship but it was definitely gonna be worth it.
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aloesarchives · 3 months
Text
Father's Day Special(JJK Oneshot)
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Tags/Warning: AFAB/Female Reader, Family life, Domesticity, Fluff, Unhinged Crack(Especially near the End), Mention of Balls but not Smut(I promise), JJK OC(but not main X Reader)
Word Count: 5.5k words
Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader
Reader Pronouns/Usage: (She/Her), Mama, Mom, Doll, Baby
So I know I'm three days late for Father's Day but I couldn't help but write this out. It's been busy and absolute hell with getting ready for Uni. But by July, things will slow down and I can focus more on getting shit down and stop procrastinating. I hella miss writing, I needa get back into the grove of it.
Also, forgot to mention, this fic was based on a true event. Dramatization was an all time high but loosely based on an interaction I had with my own mom lol
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“What do you think Dad wants, Megumi?”
“Honestly, I have no clue. I thought Mom was hard but it’s actually Dad.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Because he never buys anything new. Even if he does, it’s either meant for the house or us. Dad still wears the same black t-shirt since we were kids. He doesn’t have expensive taste either. No cologne, no wrist watch, no shoes, nothing.”
Tsumiki and Megumi feel more empathetic to Toji than either right now. Father’s Day is tomorrow and the two are out trying to get their dad a gift. But just like Toji, they feel stuck on what to get him. With you, their mother, it’s more subtle and personalized. Tailored to your taste and personality, seems hard at first but gets easier once getting the smaller details. Is it more on the pricier side? Yes, but you are their mother and do so much for them that you deserve anything and everything good to come your way.
But Toji, he’s a different story.
Growing up, the two saw how laidback their dad was. No putting much effort into keeping appearance or staying with the latest trends. They learned early on that Toji only dresses decently, or at least looks presentable, because of you. Outfit coordination was all on you, you always picked out Toji’s outfit or had the final say on what he’s wearing. Obviously over time, he’s learned the art of dressing himself up but he always asks you for the final say.
Anyhow, clothes are out because Megumi and Tsumiki know Toji wears them until they are rags. He still wears the same basketball shorts around the house since they were babies.
They’re teenagers in high school now.
Toji’s old shirts and shorts just get converted to loungewear and home clothes. Some of them have holes but Toji seems to care less about them. Toji also has no expensive taste or an interest in creating one. He believes you pay for the quality but that’s on certain things like a wrench or drill. He never understood the whole throwing your money to look high class. Pointing out that things can stick out like a nail and look out of place. He grew up in a family with money, he knows.
Then Toji literally has everything he needs. That’s what the kids always hear.
“I have (Y/N), my kids, a nice house with space to work, food, and my equipment. The hell I need anything else when it’s all right ‘ere.”
People’s dreams and aspirations are different. Having a family is a common one many have. But Megumi and Tsumiki could clearly see the fond and tender nature their dad somehow exhibits, and it’s only exclusive to the family. They didn’t think much of it until they asked you. Upon explaining Toji's life up until meeting you, Tsumiki and Megumi finally let it sit why their dad acts the way he does.
“Your Papa…didn’t expect to have this type of life—To have a home, a wife and kids. He’d never imagine himself to get this because he didn’t think it'd happen to him, especially how he grew up. But it did and he never took it for granted since. Your Papa has treated me beyond the means of well over the years, it’s only fair I do the same for him. I’m not forcing you two to follow suit. But at the very least, try to understand your Dad and his circumstances. That’s all I ask of you two.”
With that, no wonder they’ve never met anyone from Toji’s side besides Maki and Mai. That and an explanation to your fierce protectiveness towards Toji at the mention of his “family”. So here Megumi and Tsumiki are, along with their litter sister Mayumi, concocting an idea on what to get Toji. They were going to call you but ditched the idea to not inconvenience you as you were busy yourself. Currently in Shibuya walking in one of the shopping districts, they searched high and low for anything that would make a decent Father’s Day gift.
Tsumiki threw up some ideas but Megumi shot them down because it’s not practical for their Dad.
“Megumi, at this point, we can’t get Papa anything! What do you have in mind that Papa will actually use?”
Megumi thought for a second before shrugging his shoulders.
“I’ve got nothing, Tsumiki. I’m drawing a blank here.”
Tsumiki sighs before looking around again. Meanwhile, Mayumi’s curiosity was becoming impulsive. She wanted to look at anything and everything as long as her pretty little eyes laid on it. Holding onto Megumi’s hand, she tries to keep pace with her older siblings in the busy street. However, after walking for a few minutes, Mayumi came to a stop as she stared at one of the stores. Feeling his arm be pulled back, Megumi looks down to see Mayumi staring off.
“Mayumi, what are you looking at?”
Tsumiki also stopped when she noticed her two younger siblings weren’t behind her. Crouching down, she wanted to see what had caught her baby sister’s attention.
“Is there something you want to look at, Mayumi-chan?”
Mayumi looks at Tsumiki before nodding and pointing to the store that has captured her attention. Megumi and Tsumiki look to see that the store that has captured her attention was Uniqlo. Surprisingly enough, this was a clothing store that mostly made up Megumi AND Toji’s wardrobes. Tugging Megumi along, Mayumi walks into the store with a mission. The two look at each other with curiosity, wondering what their little sister was so dead set on finding. They watched as Mayumi’s eyes scanned the racks and shelves, head darting up, down, left, and right. Megumi makes a decision to let go of her hand to see what she’ll do. Upon feeling her hand’s release, Mayumi speed walks away to the Men’s side. Megumi and Tsumiki made haste to not lose sight of her. Now it’s their turn in trying to keep up with her as she continuously searches for what she’s looking for.
Megumi starts to panic when Mayumi seemingly vanishes before him. He swore he only took his eyes off of her for a split second, and now she’s gone. He was close to going into search party mode when he spotted Mayumi standing before one of the shelving displays. Letting himself breath again, he walks over to where she was before picking her up.
“Mayumi, you can’t run off like that! You know you’ll get lost and separated from Tsumiki and I. You have to make sure you can see us close behind before going on your own.” Megumi lightly chastised her. Though, he never could get mad at her no matter what she did.
Mayumi pouts slightly at Megumi, understanding what she did was dangerous.
“Sorry, Gumi-Nii. Didn’t mean to do it to you and Miki-Nee…But! I found Papa’s Father’s Day gift!” Mayumi excitedly exclaims, pointing to the rack.
Megumi looks to see what she means and by then Tsumiki caught up to the two. Tsumiki also follows to see what the two were staring at. The section she was pointing at was the Men’s section for underwear and socks. Tsumiki chuckles while Megumi becomes both confused and a little embarrassed. Mayumi squirms in Megumi’s arms, signaling him to let her down. Once safely on the ground, Mayumi grabs a packet and holds it up to her siblings.
“Mayumi-chan, why do you think this can be a gift for Papa? You think Papa would need this?” Tsumiki gently asks her, hoping to understand what she meant.
Mayumi nods quickly, continuing to hold up the boxer packet.
“Yes! Because Papa needs new ones!”
Tsumiki and Megumi looked at each other surprised before Tsumiki looked back at Mayumi.
“How do you know, Mayumi-chan?”
“Mama said it when she was folding the clothes after drying them! This was when Papa was out with Uncle Shui! She said why does Papa keep wearing his underwear even though they have holes in them. I saw what she was talking about because Papa does have holes in his underwear! So, why not get Papa new underwear?”
Tsumiki found this amusing and a bit funny at Mayumi’s enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Megumi had a furious blush painted across his face. He didn’t expect their shopping trip to go this way. Let alone, the deciding gift was the most plain and not so well-thought out of. Though Megumi felt his embarrassment burn his entire being, he’s not complaining about the gift choice. He knew it was a practical gift for their dad, especially knowing Toji’s track record when it came to clothing.
As strange as it is to admit, Megumi couldn’t deny that a go-to gift to give to any guy is a pack of brand new underwear paired with a fresh pack of socks. He knew there’s nothing you could do wrong with that combination. He even witnessed it firsthand when Yuuji was way too excited when he got a box filled with pairs of socks and boxer briefs for his birthday. And knowing how lax Toji is, Toji probably would like this more than anything. So Megumi stays quiet and lets the girls handle it.
“I think that’s a great idea, Mayumi-chan. We should get some of these for Papa so he doesn’t have to keep wearing his old ones.”
“But I don’t know Papa’s size…Maybe Mama knows! We should call Mama, Miki-Nee!”
Tsumiki nods while pulling out her phone, hitting your contact. The phone buzzed once before your voice was heard on the phone. Mayumi decides to talk on everyone’s behalf and ask for Toji’s underwear size. After a bit, Mayumi hands the phone back to Tsumiki and the two of you talk. Once hanging up, it was settled.
“Gumi-Nee, Mama said Papa only wears black and dark blue boxers! And also said Papa is a size large!”
Since he didn’t want his sisters to look awkward, Megumi took it upon himself to take the three packs of boxers and one pack of socks to check out. The socks were a last minute decision but again, practical for someone like Toji. After Tsumiki gave her half of the total to Megumi, he bought them and left with his sisters. After getting home, Megumi decided it would be best if he kept the gift in his room to not raise any suspicions if Toji had any.
“So, did you three buy your Dad his gift?”
Mayumi runs up to you and fervently nods while pointing at the Uniqlo bag Megumi’s holding. Megumi gives you the receipt for tax purposes and so Toji doesn’t see the price for it as he’ll definitely take it. You grinned while looking at the receipt, something Megumi and Tsumiki believe would be akin to playful or mischievous.
“Nice job, you three. Now, go change and clean up a bit for dinner. Your dad will be home soon.”
Speak of the devil, not even five minutes later, the front door is opened and a gruff “I’m home!” can be heard. Toji was already home. Hearing his voice, Mayumi dashed to where he was and was immediately picked up by him. His iconic DILF chuckle and the giggles of your youngest child can be heard getting closer to the kitchen. Something you never get tired of hearing and hope to hear more of every time.
“Glad to hear you had a good day, Princess. Now go with your sister to change and freshen up.”
Mayumi nods before being put down, dashing towards Tsumiki who then holds her hand as she takes her upstairs.
You were finishing cleaning up the dirty dishes when you felt a warm presence on your back.
“How are you doing, Doll? Looks like you got dinner all figured out, didn’t I tell you my food prep made things easier?”
You playfully rolled your eyes at the feeling of your husband wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Toji wants to be all over you no matter the hour.
“Yeah yeah, don’t let that ego get higher than it already is…But thank you though, Hon. It cuts down cooking time by a lot. I appreciate it.” You tenderly answered before giving him a simple kiss on the cheek.
Wearing a victor’s smile, Toji pulls away. Crossing his arms with his chest all puffed out as his pride builds up.
“If that’s all that takes for some of your kisses, I’ll keep on doing it. Only for you, Doll. Glad it makes things easier for ya.”
Even though it said because of his pride, there was an undeniable softness on his features many would believe was impossible for him to make. But here he was, doing exactly that like it was any normal day at the Fushiguro household. The fondness he exhibits to you is both a blessing and a honor because you knew you were a part of the few people that bring it out of him.
Smiling back, you mirrored your loving softness on your face as well.
“It does, Toji. Now, go change and shower. I don’t know what Shui and you did today but you smell like outside. I don’t want that in our bed so go upstairs and shower, Hon.”
Toji smirks but nods at your command. Taking himself upstairs to wash away the smell. Dinner goes on as normal. Silent but pleasant as it lets everyone decompress from the day. Toji does the dishes since you cooked dinner and the kiddos clean up the kitchen table. Everyone retires into the night without issue and Toji has his arms wrapped around you as you sleep on top of him.
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It was 7:30 A.M. when you heard voices coming from downstairs and the slight clanging of metal. You groggily blinked the sleep from your eyes while feeling the sun brightening up your room. Hearing Toji’s faint and calm breathing, you knew he wasn’t waking up anytime soon. After successfully slipping away from Toji’s grasp, you were able to change into your home clothes before going downstairs. Upon reaching the kitchen, the sight before you was a pleasant surprise.
There was Tsumiki and Megumi, wearing aprons, and using the kitchen while Mayumi was drinking her juice from her sippy cup. Albeit very sleepy but that changes when she hears footsteps and sees you walking in with a warm smile on your face.
“Mama! Gumi-Nii and Miki-Nee are making Papa breakfast! I’m here for moral support!” She excitedly whispers to you as you hold her up.
You look over to see your two eldest working away prepping their Father’s Day breakfast. You hum while inspecting their handy work, peering over their shoulder to see.
“It smells good, you two. Though, I’m surprised you’re able to get up at this time, Megumi. Normally, you would sleep in until another two hours or so.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off the rice balls he’s making, but his tone is less irritated and tense compared to most mornings.
“Well, I feel bad for letting Tsumiki do all the work in cooking. So I woke up earlier than normal to help out. Plus, Mayumi woke me up and asked me to help Tsumiki make breakfast because she couldn’t.”
Mayumi’s soft giggles were paired with your own. Softly patting his hair, you offer Megumi a grateful smile.
“I’m happy to know you helped out, Dear. Good to back up your sisters.”
You pat Tsumiki's shoulder comfortingly to not let her lose focus on her cooking.
“Call for me if you two need any help.”
The two nod before you make your way upstairs with Mayumi, making your way to your shared bedroom where your husband is sleeping. Mayumi writhes and squirms in your hold, begging to be let down to wake up her Papa. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she quietly and firmly opens the bedroom door. B-lining towards the bed with you following suit. She climbs up onto the bed and crawls to where Toji was sleeping peacefully. Your youngest stares for a few moments at her Papa before gently pounding his chest.
“Papa…Papa…Wake up!”
After a few tries, Toji stirs a bit before blinking slowly. Toji motions his head to face the culprit that woke him up from his restful sleep. Seeing Toji waking up, Mayumi beams down at him along with you softly smiling at the side of the bed.
“G’morning, Papa! Happy Papa Day!”
“Morning to you too, Little Lady~.”
He takes Mayumi in his arms while steadily sitting up. Her sweet sequels and giggles echo throughout the bedroom as Toji kisses all over her face and tickles her sides. Grinning down at his youngest daughter, he carries it when his eyes meet yours.
“Morning, Beautiful~.”
The morning rasp and gruffness in his voice made you want to scream at the sky while death-gripping the ground below. You desperately thanked any and all divine pantheons for blessing you with such a man. But alas, you couldn’t allow yourself to fold so easily. Especially in front of Toji, knowing you’ll never see the end of his teasing and salacious, but consensual, advances. You just light-heartedly roll your eyes while shaking your head, but your smile never ceases.
“Good Morning to you too, Handsome~. Happy Father’s Day. Breakfast is ready downstairs.”
Toji temporarily sets down Mayumi as you pass him a shirt to wear since he was wearing his gray sweat shorts. He picks up Mayumi again before making his way out and into the kitchen to satiate his morning hunger. Just like you, he reacted with surprise seeing a fully set table before him. But this is Toji we’re talking about. So the most we’ll get out of his reaction is his eyes which went wide.
He was about to ask if you made all the food as you passed by but you tilt your head to the side and he sees Megumi and Tsumiki cleaning up the kitchen.
“They helped you with making breakfast, Doll?”
You shake your head while taking Mayumi in your arms to place her in her chair.
“I didn’t even touch the kitchen this morning. They were in here this whole time.”
Sitting down, it finally clicked with Toji. He just grinned as he took his usual seat at the edge of the table. Once everyone was seated and began eating, so did he. Toji never thought of himself as the sentimental type. But he couldn’t help himself in allowing this particular feeling to wash over him. If he went back in time to tell his younger-self that he’d become a husband and a father of three kids, he most certainly knew his past-self would scoff and think he’s a liar. Toji won’t lie because he has a hard time believing it himself sometimes. Even after almost two decades of being married to you and 15 years of being a father, he’s in awe of how his life ended up to the present day.
Sneaking glance as he eats, he sees his two oldest kids having their usual sibling conversation. 16 and 15 years old, first and second years in high school. It would only be a few years until they would graduate high school.
‘Geez, they’ll be legal adults in less than five years…Fucking shit, man…’
Toji then sneaks glances at you, which he sometimes catches your gaze as well. There was a certain feeling of your smile every time you sent it his way. But it was not until he reminded himself that your particular smile you always gave him was of contentment. But not in a sense of bare minimum, no. Toji knew it came from utter satisfaction and gratification in this domestic life you two shared.
No, the life you two created together for each other.
Watching you interact with your children just fills him with life’s satisfaction. He thought it was impossible for someone like him to experience something like this. But here he is, sitting down eating breakfast with his family in their home on a Sunday morning. Damn, he didn’t blame you for giving him that smile because he gets it.
After eating and cleaning up the table, Megumi said he forgot something in his room and went upstairs to get it. Meanwhile, Toji was reading the morning paper while simultaneously listening to the news that was live on the tv. Mayumi was chilling in Toji’s lap with her Cinnamoroll plushie because she had nothing better to do. Meanwhile, you were teaching Tsumiki how to use the coffee machine and the set up for Toji’s usual.
Once Megumi came back with the familiar Uniqlo bag, everyone shifted their attention to Toji and gathered around him. He looked confused by the sudden change in behavior. Placing his paper down, he suspiciously eyes everyone.
“Okay, something’s up. Did I do something I don't know about?”
You shake your head at him, making it clear he wasn’t in trouble. Mayumi jumps off Toji’s lap, pattering over to Megumi who hands over the bag. She races back to her papa with an eager smile on her face, holding the bag up to him.
“Oh, what’s this, Princess?”
“It’s from Me, Gumi-Nii, and Miki-Nee! We got you a present for Papa Day!”
Feeling both astounded and touched, he takes the bag from her before ruffling her hair. Mayumi lets out a little squeal before running towards Tsumiki who picks her up. The bag was small, specifically eight inches by six inches. But what’s inside filled the bag up to its capacity so Toji was intrigued to see what his kiddos got him. He shakes the bag for good measure, causing Megumi to become impatient.
“Dad, just open it up. I promise you we didn’t put a spider or a cockroach in there. This is your real gift from us.”
The man chuckles out loud, shooting a grin his son’s way which made his impatient grow.
“Alright alright, I hear you, Megs. I was seeing if I could guess what you bought for me. Nothing wrong with checking things out. Reel yourself in kid.”
Megumi groans out causing his sisters and you to giggle at this usual interaction. Eventually, Toji opens the gift and reaches inside. His eyebrows furrowed and pushed themselves together, trying to figure out what he was touching. Suddenly, his brows released themselves from being tensed as he pulled out the three packs of boxers and one pack of socks. It was silent, a little too silent. For a second, Megumi and Tsumiki held their breaths while you anticipated his reaction.
Then, out of nowhere, a hearty laughter filled the kitchen as Toji held them in his hand. Amusement was all he felt looking at the packs in front of him. He let out a content huff, holding up one of the boxer packs.
“Wow, this is how you give gifts. You guys are just like your mama, you all have gifting skills people dream of.”
“Wait, you actually like it, Papa?”
Toji let a bemused look pass over him before it went back to amuse.
“Oh yeah, I sure as hell love it. I keep forgetting to buy some and your mother has been on me for God knows how long about getting new ones. You rascals killed two birds with one stone for me. And socks too? Now that’s being generous to your old man.”
The two were finally able to breathe since they second guessed themselves.
“Happy Father’s Day, Papa!”
“Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”
Toji gets up to give Megumi and Tsumiki his love squeezes. Tsumiki giggled while Megumi begrudgingly accepted his dad’s affection. Though, he doesn’t resist or push away when his dad hugs him.
As this was happening, you wore a grin that stretched wide with eyes that shone with mischief. Toji catches your expression, fully knowing something is brewing inside.
“Babe, you’re making that face. Spill it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hon~.”
Oh, there’s definitely something now and Toji’s gonna get it out of you.
“Don’t be so coy, (Y/N). You got that grin plastered on your face and eyeing me like that, you got something to say. I see those little gears in your pretty head of yours moving.”
You were trying to hold in your laughter. Key word was try though. The moment you made your thoughts be known will cause endless oxygen-depriving laughter from you. But you needed to say it in full. No stutters, no mistakes, no slang, dead set on getting those words out. You can’t fumble yourself right now.
“I’m just saying, I have been telling you to get new ones for years! Some of your underwear have holes in them! You have to get new ones every five to seven years, Hon!”
He playfully scoffs.
“Doll, just because they’re old doesn’t mean I need to throw them away after a few years. If they can still do their job in covering up my junk, I don’t see why I need to get new ones. I only needed to know one because of you.”
Sighing exasperatedly, you still held your grin and waited for the right moment to strike.
“Hon, you don’t understand. I’m not saying you need to buy new ones after a while! I’m saying some, as in most, of your underwear are worn down to the bone! You have to put them down, Toji!”
“Babe, again, if it still works, it still works. Yeah, some of my underwear have holes in them but they’re still wearable. Not my fault they have holes in them! Plus, I never wear tight-fitted pants, so I don’t get how my underwear chafes when I wear joggers, sweats, and cargo pants!”
Bingo, everything is in position and there’s a clear pathway. You can’t mess this up when you have a clear shot. Crossing your arms still grinning, you stare down your husband.
“Oh but it is, Toji! The reason why you got holes in your underwear is because your balls are rough! If they weren’t, I wouldn’t be breathing down your neck about them. Don’t you even notice when you fold the laundry?”
For a few moments, the silence fell over the Fushiguro house. Toji was bewildered, taken aback by what you said. You were one to never be crass in front of the kids or in general. Thus, this was the closest thing to you being vulgar.
For the teens, they stood still and frozen in place. However, for different reasons. For Tsumiki, she was stunned. Heavily skilled in the art of not being or feeling awkward. She’s not bothered or offended by your words. Rather, she didn't expect you to say something like that when they’re around. She knew it was bound to happen, just not with this conversation and those words. For Megumi, he was straight up flabbergasted. Never in a million years would he hear something like come out of you. Given, you’re known to have sufficient self-control when it comes to speaking in such a manner. Reserving that language for anyone 18 and over, and their dad. Right now, he’s growing frustrated because now he knows what people mean with you and Toji’s marriage has top tier chemistry. Megumi slowly realizes that both his parents are rat bastards and of equal humor. Noting that you were better at keeping it under wraps while his dad bore no filter at all. Meanwhile, Mayumi was just existing and cuddling her plushie. Becoming oblivious to the whole matter as her toddler brain couldn’t comprehend the words being used. But it was a good thing, much to both Megumi and Tsumiki relief.
“Did Mom just—?”
“Say what I think she said…?”
With their minds broken, the two were trying to process what just happened. You said it, made it be known. Something that probably should be said when they’re not present or only with their dad. Thinking about how you said them too: saying them with your chest, locked-in, hyper-focused, 10 toes down on the ground, no stuttering whatsoever. It looked like you were thinking about this for a long time and needed to get it off your chest.
To which you did, and successfully as well.
Just when the teens thought they were in the clear, they were thrown another curb ball. This time, it was from Toji.
“Doll, why are you complaining about them now? You never did beforehand, how do you think I gave you Tsumiki, Megumi, and Mayumi? You took them and everything else. I’m not letting you throw me under the bus like this.”
Silence came back as soon as it left. If the two thought your words were absurd, their dad’s beat it and took your place with his own. Now Megumi’s petrified because he didn’t know what else would come out of either his mom or dad’s mouth. Fearing the embarrassment and possible vulgarity to over take what the two of you said prior. He didn’t want to hear nor wanted to know anymore. Just when he was about to drag his sisters away to leave you and Toji to your own devices, he sensed something that made him stay.
All at once, the silence was broken by you and Toji bursting out in laughter. You were holding onto his shoulders, gasping for more air to put in body but it was futile as you continued laughing even harder. Toji has his arms crossed but his sturdy broad frame shakes as he can’t restrain his uncontrollable laughter. The kids watch on, once again thinking this was finally done.
But the next thing they knew, they felt a gust of air pass by them followed with another. In a turn of events, you were being chased by Toji throughout the Fushiguro Estate. Yet, your laughter and squeals that were accompanied by your husband’s playful threats made it known this was all fun and games for you.
It went on like this for several minutes. Your two teens would’ve cringed but let it pass over when they noticed Toji carrying you over his shoulder from the house towards the large Saucer Magnolia tree in the garden. Plopping himself on the grass with you in his lap, arms wrapped securely around your waist.
“Now, Doll, where’s your present for me? I don’t see it.” Toji says, feigning hurt as he whines fakingly.
You roll your eyes at his performance. Though, instead of a grin, a smile was all that was left. Highlighting the blissful expression you wore.
“I know you, Toji. You just want me to baby and give you all my attention.” You huffed lightly.
“Yeah yeah, but you’re still gonna give it to me. You won’t deny me, Baby.”
Shaking your head, you let yourself be at your husband’s mercy. Indulging himself in your warmth in presence. It was a peaceful moment until you heard a little giggling coming closer. Both of you look up to see Mayumi running this way followed by Megumi and Tsumiki who held a blanket to be laid on.
Toji unravels one arm to catch his youngest and sits her on his free thigh across from you. You never noticed until now how beautiful and relaxed Toji is. While he was known for his laid back personality, you knew it’s from not wasting his energy on matters that don’t concern him. The reality was, Toji used to be tense and rigid. Forcing to stay on guard whilst putting on that lax facade. It wasn’t until he met and married you was when his stiffness and strained body began to disappear from his body. He was relaxing, loosening himself up because of you.
Although your shared life with him wasn’t easy and had its share of hardships, you felt honored Toji allowed himself to rest and find comfort in you. To see him finally have a sense of peacefulness after knowing what he’s been through, you only wish to love, care. and protect him for as long as you’re on this plane of existence.
Seeing how much contentment he has in interacting with his children and you, he was undeniably beautiful and sublime both physically and mentally. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you immerse in the loving family atmosphere you’re grateful to be a part of. Mayumi rambling and talking Toji’s ear off while your husband entertains her. Meanwhile, you watch your two older children talk and spill the gossip in their school lives to each other.
You wallowed in this domestic bliss, savoring it as there will be nothing else like it. You’re not the only one as Toji joins in basking in this domestic bliss as well. He would never say this out loud, but he didn’t think he’d live this long. He thought he’d died young due to his reckless and careless behavior, getting himself into deep shit that would ultimately be his grave. The voice in his mind reminds him that this may be a one time thing, that he’ll never get this in the next life. But he pushes that thought away to deal with it later. For now, he’ll be present here with you as you both happily entertain your little Mayumi and her current interest.
As for Megumi and Tsumiki, they can rest easy knowing they won’t have to hear you or Toji saying those appalling words again anytime soon.
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291 notes · View notes
eth-edwards-73 · 2 months
Note
can i request a kenan yildiz one? where him and reader have a heated fight in the morning but in the evening they had planned a date beforehand, they still intended to go and when they are getting ready he cant do his tie as usual and reader helps him with that and somewhat they forget the argument they had that morning, hope this is enough to sparkle your imagination! and thank you <3
So this was a little late but it's fine
Afterthought
Kenan Yildiz x reader warnings: none, just some fluff
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You and Kenan had had an argument, like you often did now. All of the arguments started the same, with Kenan overworking himself and with you doing everything at a slow pace. Normally it’d just be the two of you creating some space between each other and letting it rest but today you two had a date planned at an upstage restaurant that charged cancellation fees so not going wasn’t really an option. 
You had started getting ready very early like you usually do, taking an everything shower, giving your hair some extra attention and starting on your makeup very early so that you could go as slow as you wanted while listening to some music. You were done with your makeup way earlier than you expected but you didn’t really mind it much since now you had more time to pick out an outfit. 
The dress was something you had picked out in advance and had bought for the occasion so that wasn’t something to worry about, what you did have to worry about were the shoes and the other accessories you wanted to pair with the outfit. 
With your nails freshly done you decided that matching the shoes to the nails was the way to go so wine red stilettos it was. You concluded that you wanted the attention to be on the dress and not on the jewelry so you stuck with some small, chunky hoop earrings and a few dainty rings.
As you were almost done with putting on your outfit you noticed Kenan struggling with his tie. Usually you’d tie it for him but since the situation was still tense, you settled on waiting a little longer before stepping in to help him. 
In the end the ask for help or to help didn’t come from you but from him. He turned around with a soft sigh, his eyes pleading but you waited for him to explicitly ask you for your help. 
“Liebe, can you please help me with my tie?” He softly asks you, nervously fiddling with the fabric of the tie as if he’s afraid you’re going to refuse. “Sure, Kenan.” You reply with an equally soft tone, approaching him and quietly beginning on his tie, he looks like he wants to say something but the second his lips part he stops himself. “Talk to me.” You whisper, encouraging him to talk about what he’s feeling and thinking and he swallows before nodding, his hand finding the hem of your dress and fiddles with it, a nervous tic. 
“I’m sorry..” He starts, his voice trailing off as he tries to find words. “I’m sorry about calling you lazy and slow, it wasn’t fair towards you because you’re not lazy or slow, we just work at different paces.” He tells you a little more confidently and your heart softens a little, skipping a beat. “I don’t know why i said it, i was just frustrated and everything was just pent up and i snapped and i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have snapped at you, it wasn’t okay and i hope you can forgive me.” He tells you, his fingers brushing against your upper thigh as he continues fiddling with the hem of your dress. You finish tying his tie and you gently pull his face down because the height difference is height differencing and you gently press a kiss to his forehead.
“Of course I forgive you, I'm sorry for yelling back.” You tell him, looking into his eyes with a soft smile on your face, moments like these make you fall in love with him all over again. 
“You look beautiful in that dress.” He mutters as he admires your body in the dress you had chosen. He adores you, every part of you, even the things you’re insecure about. He loves the way you look and he wouldn’t want you any other way than the way you feel most comfortable with considering looks. 
“Thank you, love.” You reply, looking up at him with adoration before pecking his lips.  “Let’s get to that reservation, wouldn’t want to be late.” You tell him with a grin, before pulling him out of the bedroom and down the stairs all the while giggling, your hands intertwined as much as your souls are.
And this again proves that everything will truly be alright even though sometimes it doesn’t feel like it will.
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So i've been trying to lace in some positivity to body and mental health into my posts, i'm not sure if it's noticable but i've been trying and i hope that it reaches the people who need it the most because even though it might not feel like it, there's someone out there who cares about you
(and if you really think no one does think again because it's me, i care about all of you)
but i just want everyone to feel loved and special
anyways this request was from i think two or three weeks ago so sorry for the lateness i was just a little busy with everything going on in my life
and i promise the other request will also be written very soon
lots of love xx me
(oh and also for the dress i was imagining the Halter Backless Satin Mini Dress in white from Bosom Blouse but you can picture any dress really)
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jymwahuwu · 1 year
Note
okay hi i’m new here and i was wondering if 1.) i could be 🍧 anon. and 2.) i was hoping to request yandere!jing yuan with a fem!reader who and yes this goes back to another rq you did of jing who kept spamming and calling reader to do the naughty, becomes super fed up with his shit and starts avoiding him irl. as like, she’s avoiding him and what have you, the texts- calls- and pictures all get progressively more frequent, until you’re basically waking up to pictures of him laying in bed w/o a shirt or, a pic of him after he gets ready- asking if you like his outfit and think he looks good.
but like reader becomes so annoyed that she tries blocking him, changing her number, avoiding him, and he only takes it as motivation to keep up his antics because he KNOWS how flustered it makes you, and he isn’t going to stop. but now he’s becoming slowly more creepy to the point he calls you and says “oh hey bby i’m on my way over 😘 leave the door unlocked for me”
anyways— thanks if you get the chance to do this request! i love ur work and can’t wait to see more from you!
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related content: yan! jing yuan keeps spamming you and calling you
thanks for your encouragement! sure u can be 🍧 anon! visiting your house is really creepy lmaooo is there any way to stop him?
TW: yandere, non-con, harassment, looks like delusional but he's not delusional, somehow super lucid
Oh this is going to happen someday, you have all the desperate attempts to stop Jing Yuan- block him, keep changing numbers, check yourself on the street if you are being followed, and walk into the crowd. What you get are messages from [new number] praising your stunts (for avoiding him) and telling you that he really wants you to bend over if it's not in public. There's even something like "[photos 2], [photos 9], [voice message 2:16]". A large number of explicit texts and photos to lure your desire.
You look for a button to turn off message notifications, but somehow there's no way, just like you can't hang up those calls. You believe that your mobile phone has been hacked, but that is the power of Xianzhou technology, what ability do you have to refuse…?
Today's a weird but good day - you didn't see [new messages 42], nor were you distracted by morning and late-night phone calls leading you to surreptitiously watch porn. You're at home enjoying the peace of mind while sipping your favorite drink and watching space TV. However, halfway through the show, you receive a call from the general.
"Huh?" You were a little numb.
"Oh hey baby I'm on my way over!" There was a cheerful voice over there, which brought a bit of sunshine compared to the previous low voice. "Remember to leave the door unlocked for me-" You didn't hold it steady for a few seconds, and the drink in your hand spilled out - what does it mean? Jing Yuan on the way to your house?
"Wait… what?!" The call was over. You opened the chat history with your trembling fingertips, there was indeed a message last night saying "Baby here has a surprise for you tomorrow so we can have a good time (♡˙︶˙♡)"
What follows is your choice, but with the same consequences. You can leave the house temporarily, or stay in the house but lock the door and put a stick or something on the door handle. Leaving the house will only be caught by him like a kitten and brought home under the shocked eyes of everyone. And the option to lock the door, you're so naive, aren't you? Jing Yuan rings the door bell first and tells you "baby your dear boyfriend is here". After getting no response, the general murmured that he was lucky to have your spare key, and you who eavesdropped behind the door covered your mouth to suppress the screaming - how could he have your house key? Seeing that the door handle was stuck, Jing Yuan casually smashed the door handle with a relaxed smile on his face.
It's like a surreal nightmare for you now with an immersive live-action experience.
"Baby, I'm home. Are you eager?" He put his hands around your waist and lifted you off the ground. This is the first thing Jing Yuan does after entering your home. No matter how flustered and annoyed you are, asking him to put you down, the general will hold your waist tightly, feeling your breath contentedly. It takes a full minute before you get back to the ground.
Jing Yuan tries to act like a thoughtful boyfriend, cuddling with you on the couch watching a show (ignoring your struggle in a huff, stroking your boobs), giving you teahouse's popular drink (and throwing the original drink). There's a raised tent rubbing your butt, and you writhe in embarrassment.
General's plan for you is a sweet date at home, and… a sex marathon! He already told you how to pamper you, right? He started holding your cheek and kissing you affectionately and slowly, even as you whined with your eyes closed and pushed his chest with tears. He shudders as the cock buries into your warm and tight walls. It was better than he'd ever imagined in any call. You whimper "no", "this is too big", "I don't want to…" Jing Yuan shushes you, tells you you are adorable, stretches you unhurriedly with his dick.
Even though your house is small for him, Jing Yuan sees this as a lovely bird house. He starts fucking you all over the house, from bumping you on the dining table to overstimulating you and forcing you to squirt on the bed. If you have a balcony or a garden, Jing Yuan even considers taking you out to tease you a little. Of all the furniture, his favorite is your little bathtub. After being exhausted, Jing Yuan puts you in a bathtub filled with warm water and bubbles for you to relax, just like a responsible boyfriend would do. After taking a bath, he knew that you might not be able to walk by yourself now, so he carried you to the bed. He changes you into a pajamas patterned with furry animals. He loves doing these sweet things for you!
General pats you on the back, gently wiping away your tears. Your screaming isn't getting any help. You can only whine, sob, and sniff - until... you hyperventilate and fall asleep. He knows it's a packed schedule for a first date, so it's understandable that you'd be overwhelmed.
He took a picture of your sleeping face, clasped his fingers with you, and fell asleep together. There will be more sweet dates in the future. You will get used to it, right?
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