#but I’m curious on what you decide to do either way!

[hoshifighting]

staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

“your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

[smileysuh]

fuck your ex - TEASER

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”

tw/cw. Protected sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, hand job, dry humping, grinding, foreplay, threesome, bathroom sex, using a shower head as a vibrator, multiple sex scenes, multiple reader orgasms, slight cum kink, Cheol cum’s on reader’s chest, size kink, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.3k 

🍭 aus. Non idol au, cop au, poly au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know cops are a touchy subject, but I've had this idea for months, and I figured it's fan fiction so hopefully it's just a fun au :)

“Anyways, I bet you’re wondering about the conditions that make threesomes work,” Seungcheol sighs, returning to the topic at hand.

“I’ll admit, I’m curious. When you and Mingyu gave me your numbers, you did say I could have both of you if I wanted.”

“You still can, but I wouldn’t be shocked if you wanted to stick it with Mingyu. It wouldn’t offend me. He’s better with girls than I am.” You love how direct Seungcheol is about this, and it shows a good sense of self for him to be able to admit he’s not as much of a lady killer as his friend.

“Why do you think he’s better with girls?” you inquire.

“Most girls like that whole puppy dog thing. He’s a giver, and I respect that.”

“And you’re not a giver?” you toy, cocking a brow.

“More of a taker really,” Seungcheol admits, flashing you a grin. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing.”

“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the booth. “That might be just what I need right now.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.5k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr September 27th, 2024

🔮 see what’s already available to read on my m.list

interact to be tagged, replies and reblogs are prioritized, tag space is extremely limited

[spencerreidenjoyer]

welcome home | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2.2k, rating: 18+/explicit

warning/tags: smut and fluff, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, munch!spencer reid, established relationship

a/n: hello! this is my first spencer/criminal minds fic and am new to posting fic to tumblr!! i wrote this in 2 hours in a frenzy lol. please let me know if u like this, enjoy!

You wake when the bedroom door creaks open. Spencer’s been meaning to get it fixed, but he’s been away so often recently.

A dark figure in the doorway startles you as you blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness, and you reach for your phone as you sit up but a familiar voice soothes any of your anxieties.

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” you answer, even though Spencer coming in most definitely woke you up. “Hey. Welcome home.”

Spencer walks over to your side of the bed, turning the lamp on the bedside table on. The gentle, yellow glow fills the room. You see how sweetly Spencer is looking at you. You smile up at him, and Spencer leans in to kiss you. He tastes like coffee.

“Told you not to drink coffee so late,” you chastise playfully. “You always have trouble falling asleep when you do.”

“Emily made me a cup on our way back from New York, I couldn’t say no,” Spencer shrugs, smiling. 

You shake your head, pulling the knot of his tie loose. 

“Go take a shower before you come to bed, baby,” you say, patting his cheek. “I’ve been missing cuddling my boyfriend to sleep.”

“Don’t wait up. Get some more rest, Y/N,” Spencer hums, before he turns around and enters the bathroom. 

You can’t fall back asleep, not just yet. You decide to scroll mindlessly on your phone while the sound of the shower running provides some ambient noise. You hear Spencer’s not-so-in-tune humming over the water, and it makes you smile to yourself.

Spencer always scolds you for taking too long in the shower. Says it’s a waste of water. You often suggest you should shower together, leaving Spencer a bumbling, red-faced mess. It’s cute. 

It doesn’t take long for him to step out of the shower, towel-drying his hair. You turn to face him to make a cheeky comment, but all you see is a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping down his torso, tanned skin still wet. Your lips parted still, you look up and meet his eyes. Spencer quirks an eyebrow, curious. 

You swallow, attempting to make a smooth comeback. “Couldn’t have towelled yourself off in there?”

Spencer chuckles, “Didn’t bring a change of clothes in. Thought I might as well change out here.”

You feel your cheeks heat, but you muster up some confidence to say, “Forget the clothes.”

“What?” Spencer asks. You can only focus on the veins in his forearms, the bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I said forget the clothes. Come here,” you repeat, and Spencer’s eyes widen. He approaches you, almost nervous, as if you haven’t been dating for a year. Awkwardly, he stands by the bed, and you pull him down towards you with the towel he’s left slung around his shoulders. He catches himself, hands planted next to either side of your head. His hair, still damp, falls into his face. He looks so handsome like this. You lean up to kiss him.

Spencer makes a surprised little noise, before his hand moves to cup your face as he kisses you. He kneels on the mattress for support so his other hand can trace your body, feeling you up as you are with him, hands reaching for his biceps, his lithe body, his toned stomach. 

You feel breathless as you whisper, “I missed you, Spencer.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer exhales, eyes gentle and warm as he looks down at you. 

“Kiss me some more,” you coax. 

Spencer grins. “Gladly.”

Spencer kisses you, desperation in every move he makes. You run your hand through his hair. Messy as it air-dries, but that’s just another thing you like about him. You feel him slide his hand up your sleep shirt – well, it’s his shirt, but he no longer says anything about you stealing his clothes – and it sends a shudder down your spine. His hand is calloused, rough, but touches you with a sweet gentleness that makes you swoon. His hand reaches your breast, cups it, squeezes like he needs to get his fill. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, as you run your hand down his body, reaching where his towel is tucked in so that it stays up. Your hand nudges his hardening cock, and you smile. “Someone’s already hot and bothered, huh?”

Spencer shakes his head, chuckling. “As if you didn’t start this.”

“Oh, come on, baby,” you coo. “I think it’s cute. You want me so bad.”

“I do,” He answers rather earnestly. “I’ve been gone for the better part of this week. Of course I want you.”

“And I’ll give it to you,” you answer, undoing the towel and letting it fall around Spencer’s knees. Your hand wraps around Spencer, and he moans at the contact, at the pressure. 

“Shit,” Spencer groans, head falling forward as he loses himself in the pleasure of your hand. His brows are furrowed slightly but he’s leaking, and you just want him inside you already. You kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to meet your lips instead. His lips are soft, a little chapped, but Spencer’s never been diligent with the lip balm you gave him. You’ll kiss him regardless, chapped lips and all. 

“I want you, Spencer,” you sigh. “Please.”

“I know,” Spencer says, and he reaches for your lower half. “How- How did I not realise you weren’t wearing shorts?”

You smirk, only hiding your fluster when you take off your shirt and toss it onto the floor. “Oh, Mr. Respectful Boyfriend over here doesn’t realise his girlfriend is half-naked. Shocker.”

“Hey, I am respectful!” Spencer retaliates, while trying very hard not to ogle your tits, which you promptly counter by squeezing his cock. He squeaks. You laugh, as he apologises and moves to dip his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. He looks at you. 

“Take them off already, Spencer,” you say. He does, pulling your underwear off with a reverence he’s always given you when you’re in bed together. You lift your hips so he can slide them off. You expect Spencer to come back up, but he instead slides in between your spread legs. 

His hand is gentle on your thigh, and his thumb rubs at the crease between your thigh and your cunt. You feel his breath on you, his face lowering towards your heat but his eyes solely meeting yours. “Let me take care of you.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling breathless already. “I thought- I thought I was supposed to make you feel good, since you missed me.”

“You do make me feel good. Even like this.” Spencer says, matter-of-factly. “Especially like this.”

“It’s hot that you like getting me off,” you say. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face, as Spencer buries his face between your legs. 

You feel the little bit of stubble on Spencer’s chin rubbing at your thighs, and his insistent tongue that slowly coaxes you open. It’s wet and slick and you feel so good, as his tongue circles your clit. The way he’s eating you out is like a man starved, as he holds your legs apart, drinking from you like he’s running out of water. The pleasure makes your head spin, makes your toes curl, as adrenaline drums in your veins and makes the tips of your fingers (that are buried in Spencer’s hair) tingle. You hold him down against you, as if you want him impossibly closer, as if the pleasure he’s giving you will increase tenfold if you do. You feel him moan against you, the vibrations only making you feel better. 

“Spencer,” you exhale shakily, “You need to fuck me, right now.”

He pulls away slightly, and you expect the loss of warmth all at once, but Spencer’s slipped the tips of two fingers into you, and he fills you up just like that alongside his tongue. He spreads them to scissor you open, tongue slid in between them perfectly. You cry out as he fucks you with his stupidly long fingers, feeling crazy good when he hits the spots deep inside you that you can only reach on a good day. 

You writhe on the bed, the bed you share, and Spencer finally comes up for air. “That’s totally what you meant, right?”

You glare at Spencer. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You won’t,” Spencer says with a smirk. He pulls his fingers out of you, sits back up so he’s kneeling between your legs. You watch Spencer wrap his fingers around himself, sticky with your slick, as he works himself up. Playfully, he mocks, “You want me so bad.”

You gasp as he presses the tip of his cock to your hole, wet and sticky and leaking from the number Spencer’s already done on you. He’s sweet as he presses inside, doesn’t tease but instead gives you exactly what you want.

Spencer feels like he was made for you, fitting inside you perfectly. You sigh as he presses into you, all the way to the hilt. When you look up at him, it’s like he can barely keep it together. His face is scrunched up and a little flushed, and you just want to kiss him. 

You reach up to pull him closer by the nape of his neck. He can clearly tell what you plan to do, so he says, “I taste like you.”

You smile up lazily at him. “I know. I think that’s really fucking hot.”

He leans in to kiss you, full of heat, but he’s still extremely sweet about it. His chin is sticky, but you couldn’t care less. He holds you so softly, but wherever his hands touch your skin – your stomach, your thighs, your face – it feels so hot, burning with his desire.

You clench around him on purpose when he breaks away from kissing you, and he curses under his breath. “Jesus Christ. The things you do to me.”

“Yeah?” You grin. “Show me.”

Spencer pulls out before rocking his hips, pushing himself into you, and you moan. His rhythm has gotten better since you and Spencer started sleeping together, better at keeping his pace even and steady to get you to your orgasm. He used to be a bumbling (but adorable) mess, close to virginal and would blow his load just after a few minutes. You like to think you helped him improve, but you definitely don’t want to see him use these skills with anyone else. 

He holds your leg up, allowing him to fuck you even deeper. You feel every inch of Spencer inside of you, as he slides in and out, repeat. He’s learned well, just how to fuck you. Being a genius definitely has its perks, with him learning so quickly, knowing exactly what makes you tick.

His other hand reaches down to toy with your clit, and you shudder. “Spencer… Feels so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds, sounding delighted to hear your glowing review. “Are you gonna…”

“I’m close,” you sigh. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Fuck,” Spencer curses, seemingly out of nowhere, but you know by now that it turns him on like crazy. His need for praise always had you curious, and using it in bed just makes you feel all the more powerful. He clears his throat, continuing, “You’re- So tight, so warm. You feel really good.”

Spencer’s been trying to… talk more, during sex, knowing how much you like it. He’s remembered the way you talk to him when you’re sleeping together, and he’s done well parroting it back to you. It’s hot, how eager he is to please. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” you say, breathless. “Make me cum, Spencer.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, driving his hips into you at a punishing pace, and you’re gushing as he flicks at your clit in all the right ways. You moan as your orgasm washes over you, electrifies you, till every bone in your body feels like jelly. He lets out a whimper as his hips stutter, emptying inside of you. His warmth floods into you, and you feel a strange sense of pride with it. 

“Ugh, you’re so hot,” you groan, while Spencer presses one last kiss to your cheek before he slumps down on top of you. “And heavy.”

“I love you,” Spencer says, awfully serious. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me, Spencer?” You chuckle. Spencer lifts his head to look at you. You stroke his cheek gently. 

“For letting me make you feel good, I suppose,” Spencer says. “Orgasms are often good for stress relief.”

“For me or for you?” You grin. 

“Both of us?” Spencer suggests. You nod in agreement. 

You sit in the comfortable silence between you and Spencer as you cuddle with him on top of you, only feeling sticky once the post-orgasm high has worn off. “So, wanna shower together?”

“Oh my God,” Spencer squeaks, sounding positively scandalised.

You laugh. “Oh, please. As if you didn’t cum inside of me just minutes ago.”

Spencer makes a comically distressed noise. “Well, when you put it like that!”

He gets up off of you, like he’s afraid of offending you, but you just take his hand as you stand up. You see the way his eyes rake over your naked body. It feels good. You kiss the top of his hand and smile at him. “Nothing to be scared of, Spencer. Come on.”

[ahqkas]

♯ THE SWEET ESCAPE ( you find out the batboys have fanfics written about them ! )

— gn!reader, fluff + comedy, suggestive comments in dick’s part, jason’s too ( couldn’t stop myself ), based on this req.!!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

THE WAYNE MANOR WAS QUIET, SAVE FOR THE SOFT CRACKLE OF THE FIREPLACE and the gentle tapping of your fingers against your phone screen. bruce sat at his desk across the study, engrossed in paperwork, his reading glasses perched on the sharp bridge of his nose. the evening had fallen into a comfortable silence, the kind of peaceful lull that felt rare amidst the chaos of dark gotham.

every so often, though, he’d glance up, noticing the way you seemed utterly absorbed in whatever you were doing on your phone. your brows would furrow in concentration, then smooth out as a quiet laugh escaped you. it wasn’t just one laugh either; it was a series of them—sometimes soft giggles, other times a burst of snickers that you quickly tried to stifle.

you were so adorable and you had no idea.

bruce’s natural curiosity was piqued. you weren’t the type to be easily distracted, especially not for this long. “what’s so funny?” he asked, his deep voice breaking the quiet.

you didn’t immediately answer to his question, too caught up in scrolling through whatever was on your screen. another chuckle slipped out before you glanced up, realizing he was watching you with an arched brow.

“oh,” you acknowledged him now, your grin widening mischievously. “curiosity got to me.”

the man tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to elaborate.

“i’m checking out your batman fanfics,” you explained with your voice sounding entirely too casual as you went back to scrolling the net.

for a moment, bruce simply blinked, processing your words. “my what?” disbelief and concern were etched in his voice along with his eyes wide and brows furrowed.

“fanfiction,” you repeated, looking up at him with a glimmer of amusement in your eyes upon witnessing his reaction. it was funny, seeing him like this. “you know, the stories people write about you. well, about batman, but still. there’s an entire app of it.”

bruce leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that made him look both skeptical and mildly intrigued. his sharp, discerning eyes, the same ones that had seen through countless lies and hidden riddles, were now fixed squarely on you. the faintest crease appeared between his brows, betraying just a hint of exasperation beneath his otherwise calm exterior. “and what exactly made you decide to look this up?” he asked in a steady voice but carrying the subtle undertone of someone bracing for impact—like a detective piecing together a story he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the ending of.

you shrugged, biting back another laugh as your eyes returned to your phone. “i was curious. i mean, it’s not like you have a PR team or interviews for people to obsess over, so this is where the public’s imagination goes. it’s fascinating.”

pinching the bridge of his nose, the weight of your words settling over him like a blanket, and he let out a long, measured sigh. it was the kind of sigh reserved for moments when bruce wayne—esteemed billionaire and relentless vigilante—was confronted with something that defied his finely logic. his fingers pressed lightly against the frame of his glasses as if trying to stave off an impending headache. “fascinating isn’t the word i’d use,” he said in the end. there was no anger, just the faintest trace of amusement buried beneath the weariness, as if he couldn’t decide whether to lecture you or just accept the absurdity of the situation.

“it’s harmless.”

rising to his full height, he raked a hand through the dark strands of his hair. as always, curiosity—or perhaps concern—won out. he made his way over to you, his steps unhurried but purposeful. stopping just beside your plush chair, bruce rested a hand lightly on the back of it, his towering frame impossible to ignore as he looked down at you. “i’m not sure i want to know what that means,” the slight quirk of his lips betrayed the fact that some part of him couldn’t help but be curious.

“oh, you definitely don’t,” you teased, holding your phone away as he leaned down to try and get a look. “some of this is so creative. did you know there’s a whole subcategory where you’re a single dad trying to raise the batkids and find love?”

bruce raised an eyebrow. “you mean something i actually am doing?” except he’d already found love in you.

“exactly! except in this version, you’re baking cookies for PTA meetings and teaching kids how to ride bikes. it’s adorable.”

he shook his head slowly, the movement like it belonged in an old movie, as if trying to dismiss the mental image of whatever ridiculous stories you’d found. “and what about the rest of it?” he asked. “should i be worried?” the words were light, almost teasing, but there was a thread of genuine concern, as if he were bracing himself for the possibility that your exploration into this strange corner of the internet might have uncovered something truly outrageous—or worse, embarrassing.

“well . . . ” you hesitated, your grin turning a bit sheepish as the answer to his question brewed in your mind. “let’s just say not all of it is as wholesome as the single-dad stories.”

frowning, he leaned more into the back of your chair. “how unwholesome are we talking?”

you burst into laughter at his expression, your hand flying to cover your mouth and silence the sound of joy. “bruce, don’t worry. i’m not reading anything too scandalous. though . . . ” you trailed off, pretending to think deeply, “there was one story about you and superman . . . ”

bruce groaned again, this time louder, the sound resonating with a mix of frustration and resignation as if he had just heard the most absurd thing imaginable—which, frankly, he had. he dragged a hand down his face, his fingers briefly covering his glasses as though shielding himself from the mental image your words had planted. “i don’t think i want to hear the rest of that sentence,” he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief.

the thought of batman x superman was enough to make even his composure falter. he shook his head slightly, as if trying to physically dispel the notion, but the faint pink creeping up his neck betrayed his discomfort. there were certain things even a man of the likes of bruce wayne was unprepared to confront, and apparently, this was one of them. just image clark’s reaction to this literature.

“but it was so well-written!” defending, you shook with laughter now. “i mean, the dialogue was spot on. and the angst! i had no idea people thought you two had a forbidden love affair going on.”

the poor stared at you, deadpan. “you’re enjoying this far too much.”

“of course i am. how often do i get to tease you about something you can’t control? this is gold.”

you laughed again, your joy infectious, and bruce couldn’t help but smile despite himself. the whole thing was ridiculous, but seeing you so happy—and knowing you could find lightness even in the strangest corners of his world—made it all worthwhile.

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

IN WAS A QUIET EVENING IN YOUR SHARED PENTHOUSE, the kind where the soft hum of the city below became a soothing backdrop to the peace inside. dick grayson, having wrapped up his latest patrol, was lounging on the couch, his legs stretched out and his suit traded for something more comfortable: a fitted t-shirt and sweatpants, casual yet effortlessly put together. you were curled up beside him, your phone in hand, completely absorbed in whatever you were doing. every few moments, a soft chuckle would escape your lips, followed by a quiet giggle, and your boyfriend couldn’t help but glance over at you, his curiosity piqued.

“hey,” he said, shifting on the couch and propping himself up on one elbow. “what are you reading? you’ve been at it for a while now.” His voice, as always, was light, teasing in its usual playful way, but with a hint of genuine curiosity. he could never resist wondering what kept your attention so thoroughly when he was nearby.

you glanced up from your phone, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you turned to face him. “curiosity got to me,” you said, voice carrying an almost conspiratorial tone. “i’m checking out nightwing fanfics.”

dick’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he blinked a few times as if trying to process what you’d just said. for a split second, he was silent, before his lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “fanfics?” his voice dripped with amusement. “about me? are you telling me there’s a whole genre of stories about your boyfriend?”

you gave a little shrug, the hint of a grin tugging at your lips. “well, nightwing, i guess,” you corrected, “but yeah, turns out there are a lot of people who find your nightwing persona pretty . . . inspiring.” you paused and then added with a playful glint in your eye, “some of them even think you’re, like, the ultimate heartthrob. you’ve got a pretty good following.”

a soft chuckle escaped dick’s lips, and he sat up fully now, his eyes narrowing in mock contemplation. “heartthrob, huh? i knew i was good, but i didn’t realize i had a cult following.” he ran a hand through the dark strands of his hair, his usual cocky grin settling on his face, though there was a warmth to it as he leaned toward you. “you sure you’re not getting jealous over my popularity?”

laughing, you shook your head, the sound light and teasing, but there was something in your expression that made your boyfriend pause. it wasn’t just the laughter—it was the way your eyes lingered on the screen, a spark of genuine curiosity dancing in their depths. amusement tugged at your lips as you scrolled further, like you’d stumbled into some strange, secret world that you couldn’t quite tear yourself away from whatever strange rabbit hole you’d fallen into.

“so what are they writing about?” dick asked, now more intrigued than ever, leaning closer. he wasn’t the kind of person to shy away from teasing himself, and the thought of others putting him in such exaggerated, dramatic situations made his amusement even more apparent. “anything interesting? how am i portrayed? a misunderstood vigilante with a heart of gold?”

you scrolled to one of the stories, reading aloud a few choice lines. “this one’s about nightwing coming back from a long mission, injured, and you get nursed back to health by your adoring fan who just so happens to be the one who had intrigued you,” the mischievous smile now curled fully on your lips.

dick blinked, his blue eyes widening with mock disbelief as he leaned closer to you, trying to catch a glimpse of your phone screen. “wait, me?” he asked with his voice pitching slightly between surprise and amusement, the edges of a grin tugging at his lips. “i get hurt? in a fanfic?” he scoffed, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, feigning offense. “i call bullshit. i’m practically invincible,” he added with confidence, tilting his head as if daring you to prove him wrong. but there was a playful glint in his eyes, the kind that told you he was just as entertained by this as you were, even if he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. “what next? i’m crying because i stubbed my toe? these people clearly don’t know me.”

“well, apparently you’re human in this one, but you’re still handsome as ever.”

“but i mean, you know,” dick began, shifting a little closer to you on the couch, his grin widening as he tilted his head, watching your reaction, “if you want me to join you in reading through this . . . i guess i could show you how to write a real nightwing fanfic.” his voice was light and teasing, but there was an unmistakable edge to his tone—suggestive, playful, with just enough of a challenge to make your cheeks warm. his eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in slightly, closing the space between you, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “maybe it’ll be . . . more accurate,” he added, his voice dropping a fraction lower, the words rolling off his tongue like a dare. there was something so undeniably dick grayson about the way he said it—effortlessly charming, but with a teasing bite that left your mind spinning.

you gave him a sideways look, raising an eyebrow as you grinned. “and what’s the plot for that one, mr. grayson?” you asked, amused by his suggestion.

“i don’t know . . . maybe i’m the ultimate love interest who saves gotham and his secret love from some terrible villain, only to get up hurt and you have to kiss it better.” his voice dropped into a mock-serious tone. “it’ll be perfect.”

you burst out laughing, unable to keep your composure at the thought of that kind of nightwing story.

the two of you spent the next several minutes reading through the stories together—dick teasing you for the over-the-top details and wild scenarios, while you kept showing him new stories that had him both amused and mildly flustered. eventually, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the evening turning from playful banter into a warm, quiet togetherness. it was a rare moment of normalcy in the whirlwind life of a vigilante—and one dick cherished.

. . . JASON TODD !

JASON TODD WAS SPRAWLED ACROSS YOUR COUCH, HIS LONG FRAME TAKING UP MORE SPACE than seemed fair, boots kicked off and discarded in a lazy mess by the door. his socked feet, one crossed casually over the other, rested on the coffee table—much to your disapproval, though you’d given up pointing it out by now. the soft glow of the television flickered across his face, highlighting the sharp planes of his jaw as he absentmindedly flipped through channels before settling on an action movie he’d already half-forgotten. explosions and dramatic music filled the room, but his attention wasn’t really on the screen.

it kept drifting away, landing on you instead. you were curled up at the far end of the couch, legs tucked beneath you, and your phone clutched in your hands like it held the secrets of the universe. the light from the screen illuminated your features, catching the faint furrow of your brow as you scrolled. every so often, your expression shifted—a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, a quiet snort that made his ears perk up, or the way your eyes lit up just before you let out an amused laugh.

jason couldn’t help but watch you.

he wasn’t the type to pry into your business, but the way you kept snickering under your breath was impossible to ignore. “alright,” he finally said, his voice cutting through the quiet, “what’s so funny over there?”

you glanced up, startled by the sudden question, your fingers pausing mid-scroll as if caught red-handed. for a moment, your face was blank, a deer in headlights, but then the corners of your mouth began to twitch, giving you away almost instantly. there was a mischievous glint in your eye, one that jason knew all too well—a sure sign you were up to something. “nothing,” you said in a pitched voice, as if the word alone could absolve you of whatever it was you were hiding. but the slight curve of your lips, the way you bit back an involuntary grin, made it clear that “nothing” was far from the truth.

your boyfriend gave you a pointed look, the kind he’d perfected over years of interrogating lowlifes and getting them to crack under pressure. it wasn’t harsh—jason wasn’t like that with you—but it carried enough weight to make even the most confident liar squirm. his head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a half-smirk that betrayed his amusement at your obvious reluctance. “uh-huh. sure, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with mock disbelief as he rested an arm on the back of the couch. “what are you reading?”

you hesitated for a second, weighing whether or not you should tell him. but then you shrugged, the grin on your face widening. why not? “curiosity got to me,” you admitted, holding up your phone. “i’m checking out your red hood fanfics.”

jason blinked, his head tilting slightly as if he hadn’t heard you right. “my what?”

“fanfiction,” you repeated, clearly enjoying his confusion. “you know, the stuff people write about you. well, about red hood. there’s a whole world of it out there. i just had to see it for myself.”

for a moment, jason just stared at you, his expression frozen in a mix of disbelief and sheer confusion. it was as if the words you’d just said refused to compute in his brain, the concept too absurd to fully grasp. his eyebrows furrowed slightly, a crease forming between them as he leaned back, clearly trying to piece it all together. “you mean to tell me,” he said slowly, his voice tinged with a cautious incredulity as he reached out to set the remote down on the coffee table with deliberate care, “that people are out there . . . writing stories about me?” the way he emphasized the word stories made it clear he was half expecting you to say you were joking. but the flicker of amusement in your eyes only deepened his bewilderment, and his lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t quite find the words. his gaze flicked to your phone briefly, then back to you, like he was trying to decide whether to be flattered, annoyed, or just flat-out amused.

“not you, exactly. red hood.”

“i don’t know what’s more insane—that people are doing this or that you’re actually reading it.”

you bit your lip, clearly trying not to laugh again. “you’re this super suave, dark-and-mysterious antihero who sweeps women off their feet with your tragic backstory.”

he snorted. “tragic backstory? yeah, real original.”

jason shook his head, his laughter rumbling low in his chest as he reached over to you with that quick, calculated motion you were used to. his long fingers closed around your phone before you could react, plucking it right out of your hands. “alright, that’s enough internet for you,” holding it just out of your reach when you tried to grab it back, he had the audacity to laugh even more

“hey!” you protested. “i wasn’t done!”

“oh, you’re done,” he said, grinning as he tossed the phone onto the couch behind him. “because if i have to sit here and listen to one more fanfic version of me, i might actually lose my mind.”

you pouted, crossing your arms. “but it’s so entertaining!”

he smirked, leaning in closer until his face was just inches from yours. “you want entertainment?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “how about the real red hood shows you why fanfics don’t do me justice?”

. . . TIM DRAKE !

TIM SAT ACROSS THE ROOM, HIS LAPTOP OPEN IN FRONT OF HIM as he worked on a few cases, tapping away at the keyboard with his usual speed and precision. the hum of gotham’s nighttime ambience outside the window, mixed with the soft buzz of the bat-computer, was strangely calming. yet, despite his focused demeanor, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

you were sitting next to him on the couch, your attention seemingly consumed by your phone. the screen lit up your face in the dim light of the room, and occasionally, a quiet chuckle escaped your lips. tim furrowed his brows, trying to focus on his work, but the sound of your laughter distracted him again.

it wasn’t the kind of laugh that came from a joke shared between the two of you, but rather something more private—an inside joke between you and whatever was on your phone. tim glanced over, raising an eyebrow.

“what are you doing?” he asked casually, though he was genuinely curious, a little intrigued by what could possibly be so entertaining.

you looked over at him, a smirk creeping onto your face. “curiosity got to me,” you said nonchalantly, clearly enjoying the moment. “i’m checking out your red robin fanfics.”

tim’s fingers stilled on the keyboard, the words hitting him with an almost physical force. he blinked, not entirely sure he had heard you correctly. “what?”

“fanfiction,” you repeated, turning your phone so he could see the glowing screen. “it’s a whole thing. i got curious, and it turns out that there’s quite a bit of red robin fanfics out there.” you gave the boy a grin, clearly amused by your discovery.

his mind raced. fanfic? about him? his alter ego? the boy suddenly felt a mix of embarrassment, intrigue, and a strange sense of amusement. he’d never really considered that people might write about him outside of gotham’s criminal scene. of course, he was familiar with fan culture, having read a fair share of comics and stories himself, but the idea of himself as a character in someone else’s imagination was a completely different world altogether.

“i—i mean, i guess i never thought about it,” he stammered with his voice a little less composed than usual. “what exactly do they write about?”

you leaned back, glancing at the page for a moment before looking up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “oh, you know. heroic rescues, dramatic fights, the usual stuff. but there are some . . . interesting spins.” your eyes sparkled as you watched him squirm slightly.

his face reddened just a touch. “interesting spins?” he repeated, his fingers subconsciously tapping against his thigh. “like what?”

“like you getting saved by batman.”

tim shook his head, his hands rubbing over his face as if trying to erase the image you’d just created in his mind. “okay, that’s . . . that’s a little too weird,” he muttered, half laughing at himself for even considering the possibilities. “i never thought i’d see the day when i was a fanfic character. did they get anything right?”

“actually,” you said, leaning in with mock seriousness, “some of it was kind of spot on. i mean, they really captured the whole brooding, self-deprecating vibe you’ve got going on.”

“i do not brood.”

“i beg to differ,” you shot back.

he glanced at you, a teasing smile still playing on his lips. “yeah, well, next time you want to get curious, just ask me. i’ll tell you all the ‘heroic rescues’ you need to know, no fanfic required.”

you laughed again, leaning against him, the warmth between you both more comforting than ever. tim’s nerves had been stretched thin when you first brought up the fanfiction, but now? now, he was just grateful that the conversation had turned into something lighter, a moment of genuine connection between the two of you. as you both sat there, laughing and joking about what ridiculous scenarios you’d found online, tim couldn’t help but feel a little proud. he might not have expected to find his alter ego splashed across the pages of a fanfiction site, but in a strange way, he was glad it was a part of the world people cared about. it made him feel, for once, like he wasn’t just a vigilante—he was someone worth writing about, someone worth being remembered. even if that meant a few ridiculous, outlandish stories in the process.

[thelostconsultant]

A new player

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Now that he secured the title, you feel like the flight leaving Vegas might be your best chance at telling Max a little secret.

note: Just a short thing. Inspired by that recent 911 scene.

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Now that we have Donatello, Sassy and I are outnumbered by you boys,” you note.

For the first time since you took off, Max puts down the can of Red Bull he’s been holding onto and gives you a curious look. He’s still hungover, so it takes him a minute to register what you’re referring to. “You want another cat?”

Shaking your head with a sigh, you flash a smile at him. “I wasn’t thinking about a cat, actually.” 

You can spot the confusion in his blue eyes as he’s trying to figure out what you mean, but you give him time, hoping he would figure it out on his own. Minutes pass, yet he doesn’t seem to get closer to the answer. “A dog? You want one like Leo, don’t you?” He’s laughing, and you join in while you roll your eyes at him. And then the laughter dies and his face turns serious all of a sudden. “Oh. You mean, you want a child?” You nod, the smile on your lips tighter than you wish it was. “Well… I… I mean… that would be great.”

“Are you sure?” you ask just to double check. 

With a smile, Max reaches out for your hand. “Yes. I’m sure. And you’re already pregnant, aren’t you?” he asks, his eyes shining from the sudden wave of excitement. When you nod once again, he suddenly moves to hug you, then leans back just enough to kiss you. “And I thought last night will be the best for a while,” he mumbles against your lips. “And what if it will be a boy? Then you’ll still be outnumbered. You wanna try again and again until–”

You playfully hit his arm and push him back into his seat. “I asked my doc to do a test to see if there are any genetic issues, and it also happened to tell us the baby’s gender. It’s a girl.”

For long seconds he’s only sitting there, his eyes watching you intently, and for a moment you can’t decide if he’s happy or not. You know he’s happy about the child, but what if he would prefer a boy? You’re suddenly feeling anxious, and he can probably see it on your face, because not three seconds after you tear your gaze away from him, he returns to kiss you again. “I’m happy either way. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, I’ll be the best father I can be, okay?” he asks with a warm smile. 

After a gulp, you nod. You’ve been hiding this from him for a week or so, but maybe it was worth the wait. Now that he won the title, his focus can shift a little.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Yes. No. I Don't Know.

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Use of the word 'dick', that's about it.

Tiniest bit of angst, he's just kinda cold, but mostly fluff

You couldn’t sleep. Try as you might, you could not fall asleep. It was nearly midnight already and you had to be up early for school. You decided to sneak up to the Astronomy Tower, figuring maybe the night air and watching the stars might make you tired enough to fall asleep. So you threw off your comforter and wrapped a jacket around you, sneaking out of your dorm and up to the tower. No one caught you and you ascended the stairs.

Much to your surprise, there was the school’s well known asshole, Mattheo Riddle, smoking on the balcony. It was hit or miss with you and him. Some days he was okay, at least, not insulting you. Other days, he wasn’t the most pleasant to be around. Either way, you always felt somewhat drawn into those beautiful brown eyes. Even on the days you wanted to snap back at him. He did seem to try to reign in his anger and attitude with you compared to everyone else you’ve seen him with. So you didn’t want to ruin it by yelling at him when he was a dick.

He turned his head to look at you, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette. You could see fresh, new cuts and bruises on his face and knuckles. He got into a fight today.

“What are you doing up here?” He asked and you realized you hadn’t even said anything to him for a few seconds, just staring at him.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You answered and stepped up onto the balcony with him.

“So you came trotting up to the Astronomy Tower at what? Midnight?” He asked before taking a drag off of his cigarette.

“Figured I could come watch the stars for just a little bit. I thought maybe getting out would help tire me a little more so I can fall asleep once I get back to my dorm.” You said, turning to lean back against the railing as you looked at the stars.

“That’s stupid. And dangerous. What if there was someone here that would have hurt you?” He said, taking on a slightly annoyed tone.

“I have my wand. I’m not an idiot.” You said, looking back at him.

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the railing with you. “Still stupid.”

“Why do you care?” You asked, giving him a confused look.

“I don’t. I’m telling you it’s stupid. It’s like you don’t care about your safety.” He said as he looked back at you.

“I still don’t see why you care.” You said. “It’s not like you even like me at all.”

“Fine, forget it then. Do what you want.” He said, looking up at the stars as he took another drag of his cigarette. This gave you a perfect chance to look at his injuries.

“Another fight?” You asked, putting your hands in your jacket pockets.

“Possibly.” He said, exhaling the smoke.

“What caused it this time?” You asked before looking at the stars with him.

“Does it matter?”

“I’m curious.”

“Some guys were making disgusting comments about a girl. Wouldn’t stop when I told them to shut their mouths so I shut it for them.” He said, still looking at the stars, but he shifted slightly like he was uncomfortable.

“You stepped in to stand up for a girl?” You asked and looked back at him.

“Shut up.” He said, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“You like this girl?”

He exhaled the cigarette smoke before answering. “Does that matter?”

“You know my answer already.”

He sighed. “Yes.” He said simply before putting out his cigarette on the railing and flicking it over the edge.

“Wow, Mattheo Riddle has a crush.” You smile at him.

“Oh, shut up.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Who is it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He said, looking down at his shoes as he shifted again.

“Oh, come on. This girl has to be special to catch your attention.” You said, still smiling at him.

He rolled his eyes again and turned his head away from you. “I said ‘It doesn’t matter.’”

“I thought we were friends, Matty.” You joked.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He said as he looked back at you.

“Just tell me who it is and I’ll stop.” You said with a sweet little smile.

He sighed again, looking up at the stars.

“You’re no fun.” You teased as you noticed he isn’t giving in, looking up at the stars with him again.

He stayed quiet for a moment before looking back at you, noticing your slight shiver. He looked away before taking off his hoodie and offering it to you. You looked at the hoodie confused for a moment before he rolled his eyes once again. “You’re shivering, put it on.”

“I’m not shivering.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I have a jacket already.”

“That’s the thinnest jacket I’ve ever seen.” And he was right, annoyingly.

“But you’ll be cold.”

“Put the damn hoodie on.” He said with a frustrated tone.

“Merlin, okay.” You said, taking the hoodie from him. You took off your jacket and put on his hoodie. It was so warm. And smelled like his cologne.

He leaned back against the railing as he looked at the stars again, not saying anything.

“Thank you.” You said softly.

“Yeah.” Was all he said. But that was the first time he replied to any of the times you’ve said ‘thank you.’ You smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything about it. There was a small moment of silence between you two as you watched the stars.

“Can I get one hint about the girl?” You finally asked.

“Are you serious?” He looked at you and you looked at him.

“Come on. I wanna know. I won't tell anyone.” You said.

“Why can't you leave it?” He asked, annoyed.

“Please, Matty.” You said, trying to use your puppy eyes on him.

He clicked his tongue. “Can you stop calling me that?”

“Just tell me and I'll stop.”

“You're so annoying.” He said, sighing again.

“Yet you never do anything about it.” You smile slightly.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“What you normally do with everyone else and ignore them or leave or yell or something.” You said and he narrowed his eyes slightly.

“So you think I enjoy your annoying comments or something?”

“I didn't say that. But I think you do.” You smiled.

He rolled his eyes again, looking at the ground.

“Aw, you do actually like me.” You teased him.

“Shut up.” It was the third time he said this tonight, but it was the first time he blushed, even if it was extremely faint, almost wouldn't have been noticeable if you weren't staring at him already.

“Just tell me who the girl is.” You said, now leaning on him slightly to push him further.

“Why does it matter?” He asked, a bit harshly as he looked back at you.

“I just wanna know who captured your little heart.” You said with a sweet smile.

“You sure it's not because you have a crush on me?” He said sarcastically, but that made you nervous. It's not like you knew your own feelings yourself. You always felt drawn to him. You always liked being near him. Even when he did frustrate you. But he did frustrate you a lot. And he was always cold. And he pushed you away a lot. You didn't even notice your own hesitation until Mattheo raised his eyebrows. It made your face heat up. “Do you?”

Yes. “No!” I don't know. You straightened up so you weren't leaning on him anymore.

“Why'd you hesitate?” He asked, now turning his body towards you.

“I didn't.” You said, turning to him now too and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Bullshit.”

“I'm not lying.”

“(Y/N).” He said, taking a step forward so he was directly in front of you, almost touching you.

“Matty.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Why?”

He paused, letting out a heavy exhale through his nose before rolling his eyes and moving away from you, turning away.

“Why?” You repeat, moving with him, even though he only moved a few feet.

“It doesn't matter.” He said before turning back to you. “Just stop it.”

“No.” You said. You both were directly in front of each other again. “Matty, Matty, Matty, Matty, Matty-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his hands on your cheeks. You froze for a moment before kissing back, moving your hands to grip at his shirt. He pulled back after a moment, but it still felt too short. You both stared at each other for a moment, neither letting go of the other.

“What was that for?” You asked.

“It was just to shut you up.”

“You're still holding me, though.” You pointed out.

“Yeah.” Was all he said as he kept staring at you, his eyes going all over your face; your eyes, your lips, your nose, anything and everything on your face.

“I lied. It wasn't a ‘no.’” You said as you did the same, looking all over his face too. It was the first time you were this close. But that kiss definitely made you realize your feelings.

He kept looking over your face for a moment before looking in your eyes and replying. “It was you. The girl. The one I like.”

You both stayed like that for another moment as you processed everything. He leaned down and kissed you again, much softer this time. It only lasted a moment, but this time it wasn't as hard when he pulled away, knowing that there were more of those kisses in the future.

“I like you, way more than I ever thought I would.” He admitted, still holding your face. “You can be annoying, but I like it. You're always so nice to me, even when I can be a dick and I love that and always feel so bad about it. But you don't understand how much that lifts my mood. And I love it when you call me ‘Matty.’”

“I knew you liked it.” You smiled.

“Shut up.” He said and kissed you again.

Let me know if I should make this into a long series rather than just this short one shot!

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]

Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 3: Simon

After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.

You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone… 

Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.

And so you did. 

Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right. 

Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.

You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched. 

You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.

The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…

“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.

“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.

Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.

you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?

Simon: No.

Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.

you: was that a dick joke?

Simon: No.

Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.

You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…

you: ambiguous, i like it.

you: so how tall are you then?

Simon: Does it matter?

you: no. just curious.

Simon: 6ft4.

you: that feels like a lie.

Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.

you: worried people would call you a liar?

Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.

you: that’s fair ig.

you: what’s a traveling consultant?

Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.

you: what kind of businesses?

Simon: That’s need-to-know.

you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.

you: will i ever get to know?

Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.

Simon: Not if I can help it.

you: somehow i can tell.

you: what are you doing here then?

Simon: Curiosity mostly.

you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀

Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

you: i see.

you: got anything yet?

Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.

you: am i your first then?

Simon: Not my first in anything, love.

Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.

you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?

Simon: Something of the sorts.

you: aw, im really not going to be your first.

Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.

Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.

you: idk what if you murder me?

Simon: I promise I won’t.

you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨

Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.

you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.

Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.

Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.

you: reassuring. thanks.

Simon: Glad to be of service.

you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.

Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?

you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon

Simon: LOL.

Simon: No.

you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.

Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Simon: You’re funny. 

Simon: I like that.

you: thanks. 

Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.

you: probably a mix of both.

Simon: How about we confirm that then? 

Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.

Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.

you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?

Simon: No sweat.

Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[obsessedwhyyes]

The Learned Observer

Fic Request: Voyeurism

Summary: On a sleepless night, Gale notices the distinct sound of hushed voices outside his tent. It couldn't be you and Astarion… could it? When he decides to take a peek - to satisfy his scholarly curiosity, of course - he gets more than he bargained for.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2623 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader, implied Astarion x Gale x Fem!Reader Content: Gale's POV (first person), voyeurism, dry humping, handjob, public sex, male masturbation, a little bit of jealousy.

A/N: Gale, in my humble opinion, would not use the word, “cock.” I cannot express how hard it was to not use the word, "cock" in a smut fic. I frigging love that word. Anyways, writing entirely in Gale’s voice was honestly the most fun mini challenge I’ve set myself so far, and I would gladly do first person BG3 companion POVs again. Thank you, dear anon, for the request!

Another sleepless night.

The orb pulses beneath my skin, each throb a reminder of my predicament.

I implore my mind to wander to the events of our journey, to the challenges that lie ahead, in pursuit of a worthwhile distraction. But the orb’s hunger grows stronger, like a raging maelstrom, each tribute to its insistent pull a mere ripple against the tide of its endless consumption. Perhaps I should consult the others about–

… Voices drift from outside my tent before I can finish my thoughts. Curious.

Hushed laughter and whispered words. Astarion's distinctive timbre and… you.

The sound is soft, subtle - a quiet exchange. Yet, here I am, catching fragments of something private, something perhaps not intended for outside ears.

I shift, the faintest spark of curiosity pulling me from my solitude. It's innocent, surely - a late-night conversation, perhaps a shared joke. And yet, as the moments pass, I can't ignore the intimacy in your laughter, the way Astarion's voice drops to that silken murmur he reserves for his attempts at enticement.

Just a glance, I tell myself. Merely to understand what could be so amusing at this hour.

Slowly, carefully, I draw back a sliver of canvas, just enough to peek through.

My breath catches as my eyes adjust to the firelight outside. There, on the other side of the campfire, resting against a fallen log, you sit beside him, close - very close - your faces inches apart.

Your legs are entwined, and there’s an intensity in the way you look at each other. I’m taken aback by the hunger in the kiss that follows - one neither timid nor restrained. Your hands begin to explore each other with what I can only call fervour - the kind of urgency I hadn't known either of you possessed, let alone with each other. 

The way you move together speaks of raw desire rather than tender affection - this is clearly a new physical relationship.

When did this start? How did I miss the signs? Though perhaps I was too caught up in my own concerns to notice the lingering glances, the way you always seemed to find reasons to be near each other…

I tell myself it’s simple curiosity that keeps me here, observing. A certain academic interest, if you will. After all, Astarion has always been something of a hedonist - a man who indulges in his desires with a recklessness I sometimes envy, though rarely approve. But to see him like this - in action, as it were - offers a unique perspective on his character.

You murmur something I cannot make out, a teasing lilt in your voice, and Astarion laughs in that rakish, honeyed tone of his, as though thrilled to have you so wholly entranced. His hands grip your waist, and with a practised grace, he pulls you into his lap, the hem of your skirt spilling around you both. As his hands settle on your hips, you grind against what I can only assume to be a prominent hardness in his trousers, judging by the satisfied smirk on his face. 

You seem eager, pliant under his touch, responding in ways I confess I hadn’t thought you capable of - no, not like this. Not with him.

My heart hammers in my chest, a tension spreading through me that’s… increasingly difficult to ignore. And yet, I remind myself, this is mere observation, nothing more. A clinical exercise in understanding the intricacies of interpersonal attractions between a vampire and a mortal; the undercurrent of danger that befalls such an arrangement.

He holds you with a blend of confidence and entitlement that borders on decadent, his mouth at your neck, lips brushing against your skin with a maddening leisure that’s somehow indulgent and teasing all at once. His fangs linger there and, for a moment, my heart stops - surely he wouldn’t… Ah, no. No, he’s not feeding. He merely kisses your neck, fangs scraping lightly against your throat - close enough to tempt and tantalise. I see the goosebumps flare on your skin.

He whispers something low and unintelligible, and you let out a soft giggle, yielding in a way that speaks of trust - trust that’s he’s earned, somehow, despite his nature.

And then your hand drifts between you both, touching him through his trousers.

Gosh. I hadn’t thought you so bold.

Astarion’s body arches into your touch, his gaze darkening as he watches you with a hunger that’s both terrifying and… strangely beautiful. I find myself entranced, my breath shallow as I observe the way your fingers trace over him, the way he leans into you. The noise he makes when your fingers flex, squeezing him gently over the fabric… Gracious. 

There’s a strange, reluctant curiosity building within me. I should look away. I should grant you both the privacy you likely assume you have. And yet, my gaze remains fixed, drawn to the details of your encounter: the way his hands tighten on your waist, the way your breaths synchronise, the way he murmurs softly into your ear…

I am aware - painfully so - of the ache low in my body that has built with each passing moment, each glance, each touch. I am no stranger to restraint - I have spent years tempering my desires, sacrificing comforts in the pursuit of knowledge, of power. Yet, here, now, I feel that restraint begin to falter; to dissolve like ink in water, dispersing until it is all but unrecognisable. It has been so long, after all. So, so long.

When your hands move to the waistband of his trousers, my breath catches. Gods above, surely you won't, not out in the open... but yes. Yes, it seems you will.

When you pull him free, well - I’ve always wondered about vampire physiology, purely academically, of course. But the sight of him prompts rather less scholarly thoughts. He’s impressively endowed - perhaps it is wishful thinking to believe that this is but another gift of his condition. It’s fascinating how vampiric transformation affects every part of the body - he’s almost luminescent in the firelight, every inch of him perfect and unmarred. I notice the veins that trace along his length, faintly visible beneath his skin. He is, even now, a study in confidence, exuding a subtle power that one can only achieve when utterly comfortable in one’s own skin.

Your hand wraps around him, sliding up and down his length at a teasing pace, drawing forth a sound I have never heard our pale companion make - a soft, broken gasp, caught somewhere between a moan and a sigh. It sounds almost reluctant, as though he hadn’t meant for such a sound to slip past his lips. He twitches under your ministrations, and his grip on your hips tightens enough that there will surely be bruises tomorrow.

My fingers rest at my thigh, trembling ever so slightly. A small part of me - a remnant of reason, perhaps - tells me to pull back, to look away, to let this moment pass without surrendering to the need that has taken root within me. But my body, the traitorous thing it is, does not heed such commands. Instead, I find my hand drifting lower.

My fingers trace over the fabric of my trousers, over the aching hardness beneath. A gentle palming, barely enough to ease the tension that coils tighter with each passing moment as I watch the scene unfold.

Your hands elicit quiet murmurs from Astarion that grow deeper and more insistent with each passing moment. For a moment, the two of you share a look - one of conspiratorial mischief, perhaps - and then a soft, shared giggle, the sound mingling with the crackling of the fire. 

You're so utterly engrossed in him; so utterly unselfconscious.

You shift, a question in your eyes, and as he nods, giving his assent, you rise just enough to shift, positioning yourself over him. Your skirts drape around you both, providing a veneer of modesty, though there's no mistaking what follows when you sink yourself down on to him. The way your lips part in a gasp as he enters you, the way his head falls back with a victorious grin - it makes the tightness, the great ache between my legs, almost unbearable.

I find my hand slipping beneath my waistband.

Just a little relief, I tell myself. Just enough to ease this maddening tension.

There is a certain poetry to it, I suppose - this surrender to the pleasures of the flesh. I allow myself to imagine, as my hand finds the throbbing heat of my arousal, what it might feel to be in your place, to have someone look at me with that same confidence, to experience touch imbued with the certainty of one who knows precisely how to elicit pleasure - a knowledge gleaned from centuries, no doubt, of indulgence and conquest.

It’s enough to leave me aching for more than mere observation.

The fervour with which you move against him… it’s hypnotic, each roll of your hips drawing forth increasingly wanton sounds from you both. Astarion's carefully crafted demeanour gives way to something more roguish, a playful daring that glints in his eyes as you rise and fall and rise and fall on his length.

I find my hand instinctively matching your rhythm, every shift and motion, as though I, too, am bound to the undulating tempo that you and Astarion have created.

Gods… what must it be like to be him? To have someone so openly, eagerly drawn to you, meeting every touch with matching fervour? To hold someone close and feel their raw desire, the thrill of each laugh, each gasp, offered without hesitation? I wonder what it must be like to inspire such a response, to be desired so freely, without need for pretence or restraint?

With Mystra, I was ever the pursuer, striving tirelessly to earn even the barest hint of her approval, each moment together feeling like an examination I desperately hoped to pass. But Astarion… well. He needn't chase or convince. Despite his vampiric nature - or perhaps, in part, because of it - he is simply desired, freely given all that I once had to beg for. The inequity of it all would be rather poetic, if it weren't so personally vexing.

“A-ah!”

Your gasp cuts through my ruminations, pulling me back into the scene.

Astarion’s hand has slipped between you, guiding you to that final crescendo with a practised touch. The sight of it is utterly spellbinding: his fingers moving with a precision that speaks to centuries of experience, knowing just where to press, where to linger. The control he exercises over you is enviable, each movement of his hand coaxing you closer to that peak, his attention wholly focused on your reaction, even as your hips rock back and forth on his length with an increasingly frantic, unrestrained urgency.

The way your eyes roll back... Gosh.

The expression on your face, one of pure, unfiltered abandon, is a sight to behold.

Your body trembles as you reach your peak, and a sound - a cry, too loud in the stillness of the night - escapes your lips. Astarion’s palm clamps over your mouth, a futile attempt to muffle you in the throes of your climax. Though he hushes you, his expression suggests that he is not in the least bit concerned. In fact, he seems rather pleased - more than pleased, really. 

There’s a thrill in such a public display for him too, no doubt.

I swallow, the sound almost too loud, my heart pounding against my ribs as though it seeks to betray me. Astarion's head tilts slightly, his gaze flickering to the shadows, and for one heart-stopping moment, I think he has sensed me, that his attention has shifted from you to this invisible interloper, the scholar caught red-handed in his quiet act of voyeurism.

Could he... sense me here, lingering on the fringe of his private moment? Could he smell the stir of my own arousal, feel the faint tremor of my breath as I fight for composure? For several heartbeats, my hand freezes. I dare not even breathe.

But then his attentions return to you, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

He brings his hands to your hips, holding them firmly in place as he drives himself upwards into you, deeper, with mounting desperation. It seems he seeks to chase his own release, content with the pleasure he has wrought you.

You respond eagerly, pressing closer, your own sounds growing louder, heedless of who might hear, and I can see that thrill in his face - the satisfaction of knowing he’s eliciting every reaction from you, drawing out each gasp, each shudder.

My hand glides hastily across my arousal, my own breathing growing ragged as I watch his control begin to slip. Even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his head tips back in pure abandon.

In the final throes, he presses himself against you, buried firmly to the hilt. It’s almost animalistic, all thoughts, all calculated movements, making way for one singular goal: to empty himself into you, filling you with all he has to offer with breaths rugged and low. All composure is stripped, replaced with instinct and pure need.

I find my own movements quickening to match his pace, as though some invisible thread binds us all to this moment. My hand tightens as I lose myself in the same tempo, every sound from you both spurring me closer. The sight of his final shudder, the look of utter satisfaction crossing his face as he reaches that height, is enough to tip me over the edge.

For a heartbeat, the night seems to hold us all in perfect suspension - your quiet gasps, his satisfied murmurs, my own silent echo of shared pleasure - all woven together in this clandestine tableau.

Only then, as the euphoria begins to fade, does a most uncomfortable awareness creep in.

Gods above, what have I... A scholar of worldly acclaim, reduced to voyeur, caught up in base desires like some common... No. Best not to dwell on such things. Though I suspect sleep will prove rather elusive tonight, haunted by questions of propriety and... other matters.

With a groan, I roll onto my back, the orb’s steady throb now a minor annoyance compared to the tangled thoughts that flood my mind. Perhaps I can chalk this entire… incident up to fatigue, a wandering mind, even a fevered dream. Yes, that must be it. The product of a restless night and, possibly, a touch of indigestion. After all, who could believe that I, Gale of Waterdeep, would be brought so low as to... well, that.

As morning light spills across camp, I attempt a façade of normalcy, willing my cheeks to cool and my mind to settle. Just as I convince myself the night’s events were nothing more than a peculiar dream, Astarion sidles up, his expression one of leisurely amusement.

"Restless night, Gale?” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. His gaze is as sharp as his tone, a knowing glint in his eyes that makes my stomach twist in the most uncomfortable way. "I thought I heard a... stirring from your tent."

The corner of his mouth quirks up in that infuriatingly smug way of his, and I nearly choke on my response. 

He knew. 

Astarion knew. 

I force a cough, pretending to inspect the morning sky.

"A dream," I reply a bit too quickly. "Perhaps the cheese at dinner was... overly ripe."

But Astarion merely chuckles, a wicked sound, before strolling away with a satisfied air. And as I watch him saunter off, I’m left to question just how much of the night was a dream - and how much, mortifyingly, was very, very real.

Masterlist can be found here!

No Pressure Tags: @roguishcat @davenswitcher @silverfangmarks @sparrowbard @chonkercatto @stokzr @trafalgarussy @asterordinary

[pandoraspurgatory]

seeing your hc of katsuki being into vanilla homemade porn has me dazy eyed 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫….. i’m so curious now if there were any specific porn creators you thought of when envisioning what he liked? or any who you think would fuck like katsuki? goodness… 😵‍💫

Turbulent

Truthfully I am not a porn watcher as I am a porn reader, so that question is far beyond my knowledge lol. Though I’ve written an in depth version of Katsuki watching porn, hope you enjoy<3

Katsuki Bakugo can’t get off on mainstream porn, though something changes when he finds a couples homemade video

Katsuki Bakugo likes vanilla porn, masturbation, cum, pretty vanilla here, mentions of facefucking + cuckholding, Denki and Mineta are bitchless

Katsuki never cared enough nor paid much attention to porn, stroking himself in his bedroom wasn’t worth the effort when he could spend his time training and honing his skills as a 3rd year student close to graduating.

Either it was that, or the fact that he just couldn’t cum from it.

He first gave it watching porn a go when Denki and Mineta spent the afternoon yapping about different genres of porn. He wasn’t an eavesdropper, though he listened in on the conversation, taking notes for a later date.

Bakugo only ever found himself rubbing one out when he woke up with a painful hard on, or got so worked up over some fantasy that he couldn’t get his dick back down.

That same night Katsuki sat infront of his laptop, legs open and pants discarded on the carpeted floor, a bottle of lotion splayed out on the bed next to him. He opened up the first website that appeared after typing ‘porn’ in his browser, incognito mode on of course, he had double checked. Hastily typing what he had overheard in the orange and black search bar.

‘Face fucking’

He grimaced as he clicked on the first video of some Internet whore with a fat cock stuffed down her throat. Mascara running down her face as she started her assault of sucking on the comically large dick. He could somewhat imagine himself doing it, though the drool and mess was a massive turnoff that made him feel sticky just watching it. Next

‘Cuckholding’

The moment it appeared on his screen after searching a lot made sense regarding Denki and Mineta. Of course they were into this shit, why the fuck did he even decide to listen on to those morons conversation. He was confident he could never be into this. Next

The next hour was filled off him stroking his half erect cock to mediocre videos with no luck. He’d even watched the top most recommended on the site, the drum beat before each video posing as a reminder that this wasn’t working. At this point it wasn’t even to get himself off, but rather to prove to himself he could find a video to do it for him.

None of this shit on his laptop could even remotely turn him on, there was no love or intimacy, just videos of devoid eyes and lacklustre movements that screamed ‘I want to get home and get my paycheck!’.

He hated to admit it, though he couldn’t ever imagine himself having a one night stand or watching these emotionless videos again. Despite his rough and calloused nature, he craved intimacy just as much as he craved to be the best in his class. Katsukis cock lay limp in his hand as he scrolls through the videos, more and more loading after each roll of the laptop mouse.

That was until a certain video caught his eye.

‘Our first video - couple homemade’ 12 views, posted 2 hours ago

He clicked on it, something felt different about this one. The thumbnail displaying what seemed to be a couple in their mid twenties, kissing in the frame of the video. The women had long black hair and sexy curves that made Katsukis dick twitch. The man she was with cupping her face gently with deep admiration for her in his eyes.

As the video slowly played out on his screen, he paid no mind to the humming background noise of their bedroom fan and the shitty resolution. What struck him was the way they kindly talked to each other, pressing small yet passionate kisses on each others faces, how their soft hands rubbed and stroked at one another with care and love.

Katsukis hand roughly gripped around his dick before he could even think to do it. Feeling himself desperately stroke faster each time the couple said sentences of care and sweet nothings to each other. Low moans he didn’t anticipate escaping his mouth as the man slowly inserted himself into the curvy brunette. He wasn’t even attracted to the couple in the video, though he couldn’t help but feel the coil in his stomach build as the intimacy of their love making displayed itself before him.

He wanted to be the one to do it, to bury his cock into his hypothetical girlfriend and dick her down with all the love in his heart. Apart of him felt weird for not being turned on by the professionally made studio porn instead of the homemade couple video with a total of 500 pixels. He tried not to think about it too hard, and focus on how hard his shaft throbbed in his hands.

He felt blissed out as he slowly edged himself, determined to cum at the same time as the couple, a desperately attempt at feeling included. Squeezing his tip harder every time pretty moans escaped their mouths, fuck he wanted to be in their position so badly.

“F-fuck babe… mmmnggg… gonna cum”

“That’s it, come for me pretty girl”

“Cum with me! I wanna feel you cum inside me”

Katsukis stomach felt hot, he was so turned on by the way they spoke to each other, the way they both quickened their movements desperate to make each other cum.

The moment the couple on the screen cried out in pleasure, Katsuki gave a few quick tugs, finishing himself off.

He gave out an embarrassingly loud groan as he released himself, ropes of his cum shooting onto his laptop screen. Panting as he laid back on his bed, he needs someone to do this with as soon as fucking possible

[specshroom]

hello hello, I stumbled across your writing and wanted to say how much I enjoyed “Blood In The Water” I was curious about how reader struck that deal with all the mer-creatures in the first place?! did they try to eat reader too? or did one/many have an attachment or attraction since reader grew up around that place? the whistling was soooo cool, like they were dogs trained to a command! does that mean they had struggles with communication at first? do the mer-peeps understand language or just body language? I’m full of questions 😂❤️ it was just so enthralling and love a good morally grey character! is reader struggling to make ends meet and that’s why they do this? or is it more of ‘it’s either me or them’ type scenario? OR reader is just like this is the easiest way to get money?! 👀 oml lemme stop here this is getting quite long— LOVE UR STUFF 😚

I'M SO GLAD IT INTERESTED YOU SO MUCH (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

I like to keep things up to interpretation cus I think it's more fun BUT I can answer a few of those.

- They definitely struggled at first lol. The merfolk can't speak human language and don't understand it. Humans can't speak mer-language either because it's mostly high pitched clicks and chitters. Reader figures out that the closest they can get to making sounds the merfolk understand is by whistling because it's loud and high pitched enough that they can hear it easily even through the water.

- They do share a lot of body language and mannerisms with humans (like kissing👀) so that made things easier.

- The merfolk do recognise Reader as a local and that made them more trustworthy. (Later on they marked the bottom of Readers boat so they know it's them🥺)

I wrote a little drabble to answer the "How did this happen?" question.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You sigh as you row your way out of the canal and into the open waters.

Your new patron lounges in his seat on the opposite side of the gondola, staring up at the clear blue sky. You preferred doing business at night when it's quiet, few braved these waters at night. Alas dwindling funds force you to suffer the business of the day. There's just too much comotion in the daytime, too many tourists.

Its been like this since the first rich fool "discovered" that your relatively small and unimpressive lake town actually boasts some magnificent and horrific monsters in the depths of the decievingly calm waters surrounding it. Now flocks of fools come to "test their bravery" by crossing the dangerous waters.

Conservationists and locals convinced them that hunting down the monsters in the lake would lead to environmental catastrophe and the snobs decided that it would be a better investment as a tourist attraction.

"Don't you get bored of this?"

Your patron slices the silence in half. You blink out of your thoughts, releasing the iron grip you had on your oar.

"I could give you a different job."

The well dressed man's tone is almost convincingly sympathetic. You keep your gaze locked onto the familiar waters ahead of you...until you hear the distinct sound of coins being jostled against one another. That changes things.

You hesitantly turn to where the stranger sits comfortably, grinning with pride.

"I thought so, it's always the same with you locals."

The tourist opens his money bag and takes out one gold coin. At least enough for a small meal.

"What would you do for it?"

He plays with the coin in his fingers before tossing it out of the boat and into the water. The carelessness with which he tosses his gold makes your blood run hot. Through the thick permanent fog that hangs over the waters, you can just barely see the gold coin as it sinks into the abyss and your stomach growls pitifully.

He holds out the pouch over the side of the boat, dangling it over the water.

"Would you dive for it?"

The sick thing is that you actually consider it. You stare intensely at the stupid pouch that could keep you going for a good while.

The man suddenly drops the pouch and you jump forward to catch it but he yanks it back up by the drawstring before it can touch the surface of the water. He laughs at his cruel humour and your blood reaches it's boiling point.

You don't know why it was that patron in particular that made you snap or why that bad day in particular made you finally put the knife skills your father taught you to good use.

But before either of you know it his laughter turns to bloody choking. You scramble off of him, panic clear on your face. He reaches for the knife in his neck but it's useless. His body sags over the edge of the boat and his blood mixes with the water. You watch with wide eyes as he takes his last struggled breaths.

It's silent for a while before you take your eyes off of the man Infront of you to look down at your red stained hands. You look around as if anyone could've seen your crime through the fog anyway.

After a while of just staring blankly at the still body Infront of you, you try to compose yourself and lift him off the side of the gondola. You manage to tip him over and watch his body sink down.

You stare at the corpse fading deeper into the water. Just as you ready yourself to leave the scene something rocks the gondola slightly and you fall on your ass, gripping the side of the boat.

You feel a breath on the side of your cheek and jump when you look over and see two big pitch black eyes staring at you from over the side of the boat. Your skin turns to ice, unable to move.

You hear chittering from the other side and jump again as another one peers over the furnished wood of the boat. The first one takes your frozen hand in their cold clawed hand and inspects the drying blood covering it.

They stick their tongue out and slowly lick all the way up your shaking hand, licking away at the blood as if cleansing you of your sin. The other makes a clicking sound that sounds oddly like laughter.

Once all the blood on your hand has been licked off, the creature looks up at you for a moment before disappearing below the surface once more. The other one doesn't look like it wants to go but a few clicks from the water convince it to slowly lower back into the depths.

You lean over the side of the gondola trying to get a better look at the creature before it leaves. You deflate when you don't see so much as a ripple in the water.

Suddenly, just as you were sure they weren't coming back, the same one from moments ago bursts from the water. In a second it cups your cheek and kisses you. It's hard and deep, more passionate than you'd ever had before. The creature releases you and this time before it leaves it gives a little wave with its strange webbed hand. You wave back, a little dazed, as the monster dives back into the water.

You have to sit there for a good while staring at the pouch of coin the tourist left behind and then back to the murky waters, touching your lips while contemplating what the hell just happened.

[moonstruckme]

If it interests you, could you maybe do poly!marauders smut surrounding how they would react when reader gives one of the boys a blowjob? If this isn’t comfy for you I apologize immensely. I double checked your rules so hopefully I didn’t overstep or anything. Love your work! Also my middle name is Mae:)))

Honestly babe when I read this I didn’t know if I was comfy with it either (not because of you, just because I didn’t know if I’d be able to write it) but I decided to give it a go and somehow it turned into over 2k words? So thanks!

cw: smut mdni, oral (m receiving), praise, this might be horrible? I can't decide if I hate it

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

Sirius’ kisses have turned sloppy, one of his hands wrapped loosely around your neck while the other wiggles its fingers below the waistband of your jeans, taking greedy handfuls of hip. His hard length presses into your thigh through his pants. You tilt your head, slanting your mouth against his so you can kiss him more deeply, and a low groan rumbles through him. 

He plants a chaste kiss on your lips before starting to mark a path downwards. 

You know where this is going, and you like where this is going, but still a breathless “wait” slips past your lips. 

Sirius pauses, his face hovering over your middle. Next to you on the bed, your boyfriends continue making out, but you can see you’ve caught James’ attention. His eyes open to slits, peeking from beneath his lashes to check on you. 

“What’s up?” Sirius asks, rubbing your hip. “Don’t feel like it?” 

“No, I just…” you rub your lips together nervously, and you see his eyes drop to the motion. Already large pupils growing larger. “I wanted to know if I can ask you something.” 

Sirius’ eyes skim over you, a slow perusal that’s probably meant to deduce the cause of your anxiety but only serves to worsen it. “Sure you can,” he says, tone somewhat gentler than usual. “What is it, sweetness?” 

“Could you maybe,” you ask hesitantly, wishing you could lean away from him, as if some distance between you would make this any less embarrassing, “teach me to give you a blowjob?” 

Sirius’ lips part in surprise. This time it’s Remus who you catch looking over, a second before James breaks their kiss, sitting up over Remus’ torso. 

“You wanna learn?” James asks, lips bitten red and swollen. 

You glance between him and Sirius, not quite sure who to look at. “Yeah?” you say, hating the way your voice crawls up into a question. 

Sirius’ eyebrows twitch together. “You know you don’t have to,” he says, “right?” 

“I know.” You give him a little smile. “I’m just curious, I guess.” 

“Okay,” he says. His thumb sweeps over your hip like he knows you need the reassurance. “Yeah, we can show you, gorgeous. Wanna do it sitting down?” 

You take a breath, nodding before crawling out from under him and kneeling on the floor by the bed. Sirius follows you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and spreading his legs wide. Your brain buzzes in response to the erection you can see bulging through his pants. 

You glance towards the other boys. “Are you guys just going to…watch?” 

They’ve both been staring at you, but now James grins sheepishly. “If you don’t mind.” 

“We can help, if you’re alright with that,” Remus offers. “Give you tips.” 

You can feel your face growing warm at the prospect of them being witness to your bumbling first attempt, but you don’t hate the idea of them coaching you through it. 

“M’kay,” you say. “Um, what do I do?” 

“Try taking it out, sweetheart.” There’s a bit of laughter in Remus’ voice, but his hand is gentle as he reaches over the edge of the bed, brushing your hair behind your ear. 

Your eyes flit up to Sirius’ face. He gives you a smile, and you undo his pants, pulling down the waistband of his underwear so that his length springs free. For a few moments you just look at it, wetting your lips before looking to the boys for direction. 

“Here.” James gets down on the floor beside you and takes your hand in his, guiding it to Sirius’ shaft. “You’re probably gonna want to start by holding it like this, okay?” He wraps your fingers around the base. “Good. Now be careful to cover your teeth, and just try putting it in your mouth.” 

Just? You glance up at Sirius again, and a bit of pride swells in you at the undisguised lust in his expression.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you tell him softly. 

“Me neither,” he jokes, reaching down to thumb affectionately at your cheek. “You won’t hurt me, baby. And you can stop anytime you want, you know that. If you don’t like it, just stop.” 

You bob your head, wrap your lips around your teeth, and take him into your mouth before you can think too hard about it. His cock feels odd and weighty on your tongue. You lean forward a bit, seeing how far you can go. 

“Breathe through your nose,” Remus instructs. “Try sucking on it, whenever you’re ready.” 

You let your jaw relax, sucking experimentally, like you might on a popsicle. Sirius moans. 

“Just like that,” he says, voice taking on a thick quality. “Fuck, good job, baby.” 

Warmth unfurls in your gut at the praise. You suckle a bit longer, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth before you begin moving slowly forward and backward. After a few tries, your lips are making contact with the curled O of your thumb and forefinger each time. Sirius’ cock twitches in your mouth. 

“You’ve got it, angel.” James’ big hand roves the curves of your side, his touch steadying your nerves and stirring that heat in your core. “Don’t rush yourself, but if you wanna take him deeper you can take your hand off.” 

You do it with little hesitation, high on praise and the rush of what you’ve already accomplished, and ease more of Sirius’ shaft into your mouth. He puts a hand in your hair to help you along, but then all of a sudden it’s too deep, too big, too much. You gag, choking. 

Sirius’ hand disappears instantly, but you’re not so ready to give up. Your throat spasms around the intrusion, vision blurring as you try to breathe through your nose. 

“Easy,” Remus murmurs.

You finally can’t stand it anymore, pulling away and drawing in a gasping breath. 

“Shit,” Sirius says, and you lift your teary eyes to his embarrassedly while James rubs your back. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” you manage, swallowing. “Sorry.” 

His eyes go soft. “Don’t be sorry, you did great. Do you wanna stop now?” 

You shake your head. “I think I just need a second.” 

He nods, and there’s a few seconds of quiet, James' hand coasting up and down your spine. “Do you think a demonstration would help?’ he asks. 

You swipe under your lashes, looking over at him curiously. “Um, maybe? I’m not sure.” 

He exchanges a quick look with Remus before grinning, shuffling closer to where the other boy sits at the edge of the bed and taking off his glasses. “Here. Sirius, talk her through what I’m doing, yeah?” 

Sirius seems about as transfixed by what’s about to happen as you are, but he nods. James does as you had, taking Remus’ cock out of his pants, and there’s no need to get it warmed up after the show you’ve been giving them. He feeds it right into his mouth. Remus groans as James takes his entire length expertly, fisting a hand in the other boy’s curly hair. 

“Right. Um, see how he’s breathing deep through his nose?” Sirius clears his throat, voice noticeably rough as he watches James’ lips move over Remus’ shaft. “He’s keeping his throat relaxed, not moving back and forth too much.” 

You watch as James’ mouth grows wet with spit and slick, his eyes watering a bit as he fights his gag reflex. His throat bobs, and Remus swears, his grip tightening on James’ hair. 

“And when he swallows,” Sirius manages, “his throat tightens, which is…uh, nice.” 

Remus lets out a breathy, half-delirious laugh at Sirius’ commentary. His cheeks are flushed red from pleasure and the attention, and it’s not long before curses start to spew from his mouth and he goes rigid, cuming down James’ throat. James swallows, grinning up at him. Lips and eyes shiny.

You and Sirius watch them for a few seconds longer, entranced by the sight of your boyfriends. 

“Okay.” You clear your throat. “Um, thanks.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Remus says weakly, and you have to swallow a laugh. 

You turn to Sirius. “I think I’m ready to try again.” 

He gestures as if to say Go right ahead, and you take his shaft in your hand, guiding it back into your mouth. Once again, it takes time to adjust to the feeling, but this time when his head hits the back of your throat you’re ready for it. You breathe steadily through your mouth, focussing on staying relaxed as you suck gently. 

“There you go, angel,” James praises, putting his glasses back on to watch you. “You’re taking him so well.” 

“Fucking yeah she is,” Sirius agrees, voice growing reedy as he starts to pant. You take one of his legs to steady yourself, hand wrapping around a tattoo on his thigh. “Look at me, baby.” 

You lift your watery eyes to his, finding the stormcloud gray nearly eclipsed by dark pupil. The raw want in them makes your cunt throb. Sirius must find your face nearly as arousing, because he mutters another quiet, Fuck.

You’re distantly conscious of Remus shuffling back to the edge of the bed, and then he’s laying his head on his arms, gazing down at you. “Look at you, such a quick learner,” he hums. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart. Making him feel so good.” 

“Look at her eyes,” James says, just loud enough so you can hear. You know they’re aware of what their words are doing to you, of the wetness pooling in your underwear. “She looks so pretty like this, doesn’t she?” 

“She does,” Remus agrees. “Our pretty girl.” 

You move a bit more surely over Sirius’ length, constricting your throat tentatively. Sirius moans loudly, his hand twitching toward you before he stops it. You take it in yours, setting it on the back of your head so he can guide you the way he wants. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he pants, tangling his hand in your hair. “So good f’me.” 

You make a small, pleasurable sound, and another moan slips from between his lips, his hand urging you closer. You breathe through it when his cock sponges against the back of your throat, starting to enjoy the odd sensation of your mouth and throat being so deliciously full—and, if you’re being honest with yourself, the feeling of knowing you’re doing well. And if Sirius’ increasingly loud curses and the other boys’ murmured praise are anything to go by, you’re doing rather well. 

“God, I wish you could see how you look right now,” James says, voice smooth as velvet as he drops a kiss on your shoulder. “You’re so lovely.” 

“Fucking hot, s’what she is,” Sirius insists, brows coming together so urgently you wonder for a second if he’s in pain. “Fuck. Shit, where can I cum?” 

You don’t take your mouth off his cock, doing your best to communicate with your eyes. Sirius seems to get the message, his grip on your hair tightening, pulling at your scalp as his thigh tenses under your hand. You swallow hurriedly, and the sounds that leave him will echo in your dreams for the rest of the week, loud, pleady moans interspersed with mangled curses. Your mouth fills with warm wetness, and you ease him out of your throat before swallowing again. 

“There we are.” James tugs you gently away when he realizes neither you or Sirius are moving, pulling you half into his lap. “You did it, sweetheart, great job.” 

He strokes his thumb under your eyes for you, wiping away the wetness there as Remus watches you move your tongue around in your mouth funnily. 

“You alright?” he asks you.

You nod. “Tastes different than I thought it would,” you say. 

James laughs, the sound bright and clear. He plants a smacking kiss on your cheek. 

“Not bad, I hope,” Sirius says, voice still a bit stringy. He leans back on his elbows, watching you from the bed. 

You feel color rise to your cheeks. “No. Not bad.” 

His lips quirk up, eyes steady on yours. “That was fucking killer,” he tells you, “especially for your first time. Thanks for that, gorgeous.” 

You grin bashfully, dropping your eyes. James clears his throat loudly. 

“Right, right, and thank you for the demonstration,” Sirius adds. “Very instructive.” 

James beams, but Sirius only pats the bed next to him. 

“Why don’t you hop up here so I can give you a real thanks?” 

Impossibly, James’ smile widens. He’s quick to obey, Sirius moving to take his place on the floor. Your lips part, and you hear Remus chuckle. You turn to find his amber eyes watching you. They linger on your lips, still glossy and swollen. 

“Y’want me to help you out too, sweetheart?” He juts his chin toward the bed, a silent request for you to lie down. “Seems only fair, doesn’t it.” 

[bwabys-scenarios]

helloooo!! I saw ur requests were open and that you were askin for some dungeon meshi x chubby reader....I gotchu covered.

May I please request some Chilchuck(or..Chilchack?? Ive no clue what the spelling is..) x Chubby!Reader and maybe also some Laois x Chubby!Reader? If you dont do multiples then either guy is fine!!

Sfw and nsfw on how they interact and think of your body? Scenarios like you tending to grab Chilchuck away from danger alot so he gets alot of booba action?? Embarrassed flustered old man?? Having to look up at you(if you were to be taller) but all he sees is ur chest?? Him givin Alot of needy attention to them when you do fool around cuz it Has been a big thing on his mind?? Him stiching and adjusting ur undershirt so it actually helps support ur chest a bit better and ur so grateful? Laois having a staring habit when he spaces out...yknow him and his tendencies to be curious(he wanted to Count Izutsumi nipples for gods sake.), he just doesnt know, he doesnt mean for it to be creepy or anything he jus is SO infactuated w ur body its so so so beautiful to him, him getting super happy and starts exploring ur body when consent is given?? Alot of his attention is on ur chest too, weighing it, squeezing. Stuff w warm body heat too, Just all around big loving

Thank you so much if you decide to do this and incredibly sorry if I messed up in my ask in anyway 💖💖💖

Chilchuck x Chubby!Reader SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

a/n: I will do the Laois one in a separate post!! The Chilchuck ideas just… spoke to me!! Also pls send me Dungeon Meshi requests… I’m open to writing for all the adult characters…

warnings: boob sucking, tittyfucking, breeding, cockwarming, thigh fucking, pussy eating

SFW

-you’re probably the only one in the party that he can sleep next to without complaining. you’re soft and warm, and when you ask if you can share his bed with him for the night because it’s cold, he’s… a bit too eager to lift up his blanket for you to join him.

-he complains that you don’t eat enough, and ends up giving you bits of his lunch and dinner. he just think your chubby cheeks are so cute when you’re chewing and likes to watch you eat. he does worry for you though…

-if it’s dark and you’re a bit afraid, he’ll hold your hand. if you ask him why in front of Laois or Marcille he’ll get all flustered and say he didn’t want you to trip him up.

-he only reaches your boobs, which is both a blessing and a curse for him. he can look at your boobs all day with little to no suspicion, but he also gets pulled into your boobs quite often when you hug him or try and save him from an attack. that might sound good to some people, but to him it gets him all flustered and hard embarrassed, then he gets teased by Marcille :(

-oh my gosh snuggles with him are so nice. he’s rather light so once the two of you are close, he’ll lie on top of you and bury his face in your chest or tummy! he’s actually quite the cuddlebug, and will want to snuggle you every single night after the first time.

-your tummy… he loves it so much. Chilchuck is quite the fan of anything soft, so more often than not, when he’s taking a nap he’ll have his head in your lap and face buried in your chubby tummy.

-he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection in front of the others, so ways he shows he cares are usually subtle unless it’s behind closed doors or away from prying eyes. he peels your apples for you, bandages you up after you get hurt, will tug on your shirt to remind you that he’s here and that he loves you, and give your palm secret kisses when no one’s looking.

-he’s surprisingly possessive? when Laois looks at you, even if he’s just curious and wants to ask you questions, Chilchuck rushes over and finds some excuse to pull you away. he’s the most worried about Laois, but doesn’t like Senshi being all close to you either. he puts up with it more though, but dislikes that Senshi acts like yours and his relationship is like puppy love(Chilchuck is a grown ass man 😭)

-he’s very soft with you, very rarely being sarcastic or short with you specifically. he made you cry once early on in your relationship and it absolutely devastated him, so since then he’s been a lot more careful about what he says

-speaking of crying, he can’t stand your tears, it makes him nervous. if you’re a cry baby be prepared for him to be fretting over you constantly!

-you’re the person everyone in the party wants to snuggle with when it gets cold, so he has to shoo people away, blushing and stuttering about how they’re crowding you. once they’re all pouting and walking away, he huffs and snuggles up to you. you find his jealousy pretty cute, so you lift up your shirt a little so he can duck under it and rest his head on your chubby tummy or breasts.

-your chubby cheeks activate his cuteness aggression. he didn’t even know he liked cute things until he saw your cheeks puffed out and warm after someone made you mad. he nearly stopped breathing, it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t help but cup your cheek in his hands. your face heated up even more when he stared up at your with those adoring eyes, gently pinching your cheeks. “soft… so soft and warm…”

-he can be a bit clingy at times, especially when it gets colder out. when you go to sleep, he has to sleep under your shirt, his head on your chest or tummy. you complain about him stretching your your shirts, but he thinks the slightly oversized look is cute on you. honestly, everything is cute on you, because you’re adorable to him.

NSFW

-boobies… he loves your boobs so much. they’re soft and warm, feeling nice and heavy in his hands when he holds them. loves when he gets to bury his face in your bare chest and just snooze… but he also adores getting to play with your nipples, gently nibbling and suckling on the perky buds. he won’t lie, he can get hard just from looking at your clothed chest…

-he is absolutely a service dom that wants to make you feel good, but he can also enjoy being taken care of sometimes!

-enjoys being between your thighs more than he likes to admit. the first time he tasted your pussy was also the first time you ever saw him look so… in love. he gets pussy drunk within minutes, not able to stop sucking on your sensitive clit until you push his head away. he had a wife so he’s definitely experienced with pleasing a woman, so don’t be surprised when he has you cumming on his tongue for an hour or more! <3

-when he’s feeling a bit horny and doesn’t want to bother you at night, he’ll kiss your temple and hold onto your hips as he fucks your thighs, his cock lightly brushing against your pussy. your thighs are fat and soft, and he just loves nestling his cock between them!

-sometimes he’s just tired and wants some snuggles, so he’ll have his cock buried inside of you while you sit on his lap. the first time he asked for this you were terrified you’d crush him because he’s so small and you’re chubby, but he begged for it, something he had never done before. you relented, and as soon as he was buried inside of you, with his head nuzzled against your chest, he looked just too content. “thank you, love… it’s perfect…”

-he’s embarrassed by how good it feels to hear you moan his name, when you say how his cock feels so nice when it hits that certain spot and how you’re gonna cum way quicker than he expected. you being so attracted to him, feeling so much pleasure by him just thrusting into you gets him feeling giddy!

-he most certainly has a bit of a breeding kink… he has 3 daughters already that he loves, but… the urge to claim you and give you a child as well does make his body heat up and his pants grow tight. Chilchuck would like to get you pregnant, but only when it’s safe to do so. he doesn’t pull out though… he just can’t, it’s too tempting and you’re way too warm and cozy… it’s why he loves cockwarming so much!

-circling back to boobs… he’s definitely the type to enjoy a good tittyfuck, but it’ll take him a while to accept this. he’s utterly embarrassed to have his cock anywhere near your face due to being a bit shy, but once he’s nestled between your breasts and your tongue touches the tip of his cock, he groans, nearly cumming right then and there. he’s already a huge fan of your breasts, so feeling them on his cock is otherworldly, and it becomes one of his favorite ways to relieve stress

-he likes to either cum inside of you or on your tummy… he refuses to cum on your face, and will only cum in your mouth if you ask. when he fucks your thighs, he does tend to make a mess all over you and feels awful since it’s not exactly easy to bathe regularly in the dungeon. but you do look awfully cute, messy and sticky with his cum, puffing out your chubby cheek to give him a pout.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: Wanda can’t keep her eyes - or hands - off of you. She has her way with you, and you’re just happy to let your long-time crush ravish you.

content warnings: smut, cunnilingus, fingering, slight possessiveness, slight overstimulation

word count: 4k+

masterlist

Original Request

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Not My Fault

A warm glow of light spills out from the kitchen, and you rub your bleary eyes as you make your way towards it. Your book is clutched in your hand, one finger holding your spot as you follow the source of light, and the delicious smell of freshly brewed tea. The pads of your feet tread softly, protected by thick wool socks that ensure your steps are virtually silent as you wonder who else would possibly be awake at the late hour. 

“Oh,” You stop, taking in the sight before you. The first thing you notice is red hair, cascading down like a waterfall, curled slightly over a slender shoulder. Wanda has her back turned towards you, one hand with multiple silver rings twisting in the air as her magic pours a cup of tea, a single scarlet wisp bringing sugar over and spooning some in. 

Leaning against the doorframe, you smile as you admire your best friend. You had grown close with the witch ever since she arrived at the Avengers compound, and were happy to see her improvement with control over her magic. It had taken a while, but you were glad that Wanda felt comfortable enough to show such common displays of power. In the kitchen, too, her happy place. 

Green eyes meet yours, and Wanda freezes in surprise. Her scarlet magic hovers with uncertainty in the air, sugar sprinkling a light dusting onto the countertop before she recovers. You tell yourself that you imagine the way her eyes rake down your form, and fight the urge to cover yourself up as you step into the kitchen.

“Don’t mind me,” You say, a smirk on your face at the way Wanda blushes slightly. “I was just up reading.” 

Holding up the book briefly as if to further prove your words, you let it drop onto the counter. Curious eyes peer at it, before quickly returning to you as you step closer. Leaning on the space next to Wanda, you ask, “What are you doing up so late?”

Ducking her head, Wanda gingerly takes her cup of tea. “I… couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh?” You ask, gently prodding for more information, but receiving no answer. This time, you don’t have to imagine the way her eyes travel up your bare legs, lingering on your sleep shorts as they slide up further when you cross your legs. 

Deciding to test a theory, and hoping your unrequited crush might be slightly reciprocated, you lean over. From this angle, Wanda has a direct view down the front of your tank top. Her eyes widen slightly, taking in the bare sides and tops of your breasts before coughing awkwardly and sipping her tea. Her eyes remain steadfastly on the steaming liquid before her, and you wonder if she’s burning her tongue. 

“Could you pour me some?” You ask, innuendo slipping between your words, “I’m quite thirsty.”

Green eyes snap to yours, and she sets her mug down on the counter. Instead of making a move towards the teapot, Wanda carefully moves to stand in front of you, as if to give you a chance to escape. You don’t take it.

You turn as she moves, your back pressed against the counter and you raise an eyebrow. Wanad stares right back, fingers trembling slightly as she places them on either side of you, trapping you effectively against the counter. Her face is close to yours, and you can smell her vanilla perfume washing over you and the slight scent of tea as she exhales softly. 

“You look…” Trailing off, Wanda seems to steel herself. You mentally applaud her, urging her to continue, even if it's only with your eyes.

Wanda presses her lips together, biting her bottom lip briefly before saying, “I want to fuck you so badly, it’s keeping me up at night.” She gestures towards her cup of tea on the counter. “As you can see.”

Her candor takes you off guard, and you can only blink at her in surprise. She takes your silence as a sign to continue. 

“I mean…” Her eyes rake down your thin tank top, pausing at your slightly pebbled nipples before continuing their hot trail down your toned legs. You feel goosebumps rise, feeling frozen in place as your best friend appraises you. 

“Just look at you,” One of her hands moves to rest on your hip, pressing you further against the counter as she leans her body against yours. The heat of her skin against yours sends a wave of arousal through you. “Dressed in skimpy clothes for anyone to see, it's almost like you want me to have my way with you.”

“I only dress this way around you.” You blurt out, not wanting her to presume that you always dress this scantily. 

Wanda raises her eyebrows, a pleased smile rolling across her face as she strokes your hip. “Good,” She says, her tone mild even as relief flows through her. You watch her eyes soften, her walls lowering slightly as she appraises you. 

“Now,” Her face grew slightly serious, and you strained your ears as her soft words began flowing. “I’m going to fuck you, either here in the bedroom, I don’t care which one. You have five seconds to decide.”

You barely process the words before she holds up her hand and starts silently counting down from five. Panicking, your mouth gapes for a second before you whisper, “Bedroom.”

A wide smirk makes its way onto her face, and your knees suddenly feel weak. It’s not like she’s never smiled at you before, she’s your best friend, of course she smiles around you. But this time, it's different. This smile is paired with hungry eyes and twitching fingers, her lips far too kissable for you to concentrate. 

“Good choice,” Wanda whispers, moving her lips close to your ear. You don’t even try to hide the shiver that runs down your spine at the action. “Start walking.”

The commanding tone sends another shiver down your spine, leaving a pleasant tingle at your core. You know that your eyes are wide, lips parted slightly as you look at Wanda with a mixture of slight shock and awe. Her ever-watchful green eyes notice, and her smirk widens as she slowly moves to the side, gesturing for you to pass. 

You hope that your steps are confident, measured even, but you know that’s only false hope as you stumble slightly on your way out of the kitchen. Mind racing, you make your way towards your bedroom. 

Wanda liked you back? I mean, you knew she liked women… but she specifically liked you? Your best friend, who you’d been hopelessly in love with for what seemed like forever… wanted you.

You considered slapping yourself, convinced that you were dreaming. Yes! That was it, you had stayed up too late reading your book, and now you were in some sort of horny dream. You’d wake up tomorrow and blush at Wanda across the table, and she’d be none the wiser. 

The door to your bedroom opened, light from the hallway spilling across your plush carpet as Wanda stepped inside. She shut the door softly behind her, green eyes peering at you through the dim lighting, and your heart jolted. 

It wasn’t a dream. You weren’t sure what to do, your hands seeming too clumsy at the moment. Your tongue felt weighted down with lead, lips parted as you just stared at Wanda. Standing awkwardly near the center of your bedroom, you felt your heart race as Wanda held out her hand, silently ushering you toward her. 

With shaky footsteps, you managed to cross the room, your eyes questioning as you stepped up to Wanda. She was lingering by the door, and as soon as you were within arms reach, she grabbed you by the waist and spun you around. 

A surprised gasp left your lips as your back hit the wall. Wanda’s body pressed flush against you, warmth spreading from your thighs up to your chest as she trapped you against the wall. Not that you were complaining, this was the best moment of your life. 

“Can I kiss you?” Wanda’s voice was soft, only a hint of uncertainty woven into her words, and you raised your hands to cradle her cheeks. Fingers gently stroking over her soft skin, you smiled when she nuzzled against your palm slightly, her breaths biting your cheeks as you flushed. 

“Of course you can,” The words were murmured, your eyes focused on her lips as her hands tightened over your waist. 

“Good, because I’m going to kiss you a lot from now on,” Wanda says, and you don’t have any time to process her words before her lips are pressed against yours. 

There are no words to describe what kissing Wanda Maximoff felt like. Time suspended its relentless march, and it felt as though the world had dissolved under the soft touch of her lips moving against yours. You could practically hear your heart singing out, symphonies rising like a never-ending crash of waves as the heat of her lips spread through you. 

A soft, probing tongue ran along your bottom lip, and you let out a moan. Wanda eagerly swallowed it, delighting in the way your lips parted for her. Her thigh slipped between your legs, pressing deliciously against your core as you gasped. 

Your tongues danced together, and it felt so good that you didn’t have time to overthink your actions. You were simply doing what felt good, and everything with Wanda felt good. The kiss grew slightly sloppy, your lips parting further as you panted, arousal shooting through you as you ground down against Wanda’s thigh. 

Insistent fingers pulled at the hem of your tank top, briefly sliding under the thin material to splay over your stomach. You mentally thanked Natasha for the daily reminders to hit the gym when Wanda moaned at the feeling of your abs. 

“Can I take this off?” Wanda asked, and you almost laughed. If it weren’t for her body pressing you against your wall, you would have already stripped yourself of all clothing at this point. 

“Yes, Wanda. You can do anything you like,” Your words spurred her on, a wide smile flashing at you before your tank top was pulled smoothly over your head and tossed somewhere on the floor. 

Something shifted as soon as Wanda had pulled that first item of clothing off. Her pupils dilated, her hands scraping down your sides and grabbing your breasts roughly as she reattached her lips to yours. This time, she had no qualms about sinking her teeth into your bottom lip, and you couldn’t help but moan. 

It was like something had taken over your best friend, her movements frenzied as she slipped her fingers under the waistband of your sleep shorts. You weren’t too concerned, happy to keep kissing her as your fingers wove themselves into her beautiful red hair. 

Beautiful. Of course, that would be the only word you could describe Wanda as. She truly was, with her soft smiles and gentle touches. Evidently, her touch could also send fire coursing through your veins, her fingers rough as they pressed you tightly against the wall. You absolutely loved it. 

Your shorts quickly joined your discarded tank top on the floor, Wanda’s fingers skating around your underwear. You took the chance to pull at her shirt instead, your lips detaching briefly as you gazed at her. 

“Take it off,” Wanda mumbled, her lips glistening. “Take it all off.”

Not willing to disobey a direct order, you gladly peel her shirt off. Wanda blushes under the force of your stare, your eyes widening as you take in her smooth skin and perfect chest. Her bra cups her breasts gently, and you’re suddenly jealous of the firm fabric, wishing it was your hands holding her instead. 

Quick fingers unclasp her bra, the item falling to the floor as you fulfill your wish, hands cupping her breasts as a smile spreads across your face. Wanda moans as your thumbs brush over her nipples, the pebbled nubs already achingly hard as she arches her back, pressing her chest further against your touch. 

“You’re beautiful,” Your words flow like a prayer, filling the space between you two as Wanda stares at you. 

“I…” She can’t find the right words to respond, tears springing into her eyes as she lets her mouth crash against yours. Her own fingers pull her sweatpants down, kicking them off as she continues to ravish your mouth with her impossibly soft lips. 

The hands around your waist no longer tremble, instead confident with their movements as Wanda slowly spins you away from the wall. She presses against you still, each of you taking small steps until the backs of your legs hit the bed. 

A firm hand against your sternum pushes you backward, and you sit down heavily as your lips part from hers. Her eyes are dark and piercing, the air feeling heavy around you as you tremble slightly underneath her gaze. 

Your hands make their way to her thighs, pulling her onto your lap as you marvel at her soft skin. You’ve been dreaming of running your hands along her body for months now, and you can’t quite believe that Wanda is letting you. 

A small gasp leaves Wanda’s mouth, the warm air hitting your parted lips as she slots herself perfectly onto your lap. Your hands aren’t rough, but they’re not gentle either as you pull her with you toward the center of the bed. Soft yet insistent lips return to yours as you let yourself be slowly pushed down into the mattress. 

“Is this okay?” Wanda asks, her voice low. Her hands are stroking your breasts, thumbs flicking gently across your hard nipples. You can feel her damp underwear against your pelvis as she straddles you, and can’t help the way your hips roll against her. 

“Yes, it's more than okay. Please don’t stop.” At your words, Wanda’s hips grind down slightly, smearing her arousal onto your skin, and you let out a low moan as your breaths become slightly shaky. 

It’s everything you’ve been dreaming of, better even. You don’t ever want this moment to stop, especially when Wanda leans down and starts kissing you again. Yeah, you hope this moment never ends. 

It ends, and you try not to cry. 

Wanda sits up, her lips swollen and eyes bright. Your fingers tighten on her thighs, urging her hips to move, wanting to see those perfect lips fall open as she loses herself in pleasure. She just smirks at you, a single eyebrow raising and letting you know that she is aware of what game you’re playing. 

“Patience, darling.” The words are teasing, and you sigh. Your eyes don’t leave her form, skating over her nude chest as your mouth fills with saliva. The urge to taste her skin wells up, and you lick your lips as your eyes zero in on her nipples. 

Movement distracts you, Wanda’s fingers coming into focus as you shift your attention. She’s taking off her rings, slowly, and you nearly cum from the sight. Her green eyes are boring into yours, a predatory look in them as she plucks her delicate rings off one by one. 

Her fingers are bare, the rings resting innocently in the palm of her hand, and you feel a wave of anticipation rise within you. Wanda leans forward, her breasts tantalizingly close to your mouth as she sets the rings down on the bedside table. They clink lightly together as they hit the hardwood, the sound jarring you as you crane your neck toward her. 

Just before your lips can rest against her smooth skin, Wanda leans back again, a chuckle erupting from her at the stricken look on your face. Her fingers reach up and pull her hair back into a ponytail, her sharp features looking soft in the dim lighting of your room. 

“Just relax,” She advises, and you want to protest when she moves her weight off of you. Any words threatening to escape are quickly silenced when she kneels between your legs, her hands pushing them open. 

“Fuck,” You manage, the word spilling out as soon as Wanda’s tongue makes contact with your dripping core. It’s curious, yet deliberate as she explores your drenched folds and expertly avoids your protruding clit. 

Strong hands hold your squirming hips down, and you try not to moan too loudly as you feel yourself grow more desperate. She’s purposefully avoiding your clit, denying you any true pleasure as she collects your juices on her tongue eagerly. 

Placing a tentative hand on her head, fingers playing with her ponytail, you wait until her green eyes meet yours. She looks up, and you nearly cum from the sight alone. Her eyes meet yours, tongue buried in your pussy as she smirks slightly. You tug slightly on her hair, asking a silent question. 

Nodding, Wanda smiles wider as your hand wraps fully around her ponytail, pulling her face flush against you. Your hips rut up, seeking that delicious pressure against your clit, and you finally feel her lips wrap around it. 

Wanda’s cheeks hollow, and you feel her suck your aching clit into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around it, and your back arches off the mattress as you feel the first tendrils of your orgasm race toward the surface. 

There’s a high-pitched whining sound, and it takes you a moment to realize that it’s you. Wanda looks immensely pleased, happily sucking and licking your throbbing clit as you hold her against you. Your face is flushed, legs trembling around her as you grind yourself against her talented mouth. 

With a few more strokes of her talented tongue, your clit throbs violently as a deep, aching pressure makes its way through you. Wanda can feel your cum spilling out, and she eagerly laps it up as you pant and moan above her. Your fingers have a vice-like grip on her hair, and she can’t help but feel her own arousal climb at the sensation. 

Your hands start pushing her away, the pleasure quickly becoming overstimulating. Wanda practically growls, her hands capturing your wrists and she leans over your still trembling body. Pressing them above your head, she kisses you deeply, and you moan at the taste of your own arousal coating her lips. 

“We’re not done until I say we’re done,” There’s an air of finality in her tone, and you bite your lip to stop any arguments from escaping. She continues, mumbling against your inner thigh while she waits for you to calm down slightly, “I’ve waited far too long for this to be over so soon.”

You let out a moan at her words, silently agreeing with her. Probing fingers make their way towards your swollen pussy, gathering your slick juices before Wanda brings them to your mouth. Your arousal is still warm, coating your lips before you slowly part them. 

Wanda’s fingers are heavy against your tongue, and you start sucking automatically. Her other hand disappears between your thighs, fingers sliding along your slit and gently rubbing your clit. Green eyes are locked on her fingers as she begins pumping them in and out of your mouth. 

“God,” Her voice is low, a raspy tone intermingling with her slight accent. “You look so pretty with my fingers in your mouth, sweetheart.”

You moan again, not caring how pathetic the sound is, not when your best friend lights up as you suck her fingers harder. 

“Oh, a praise kink.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You say, but there’s no venom behind your words, and they come out as a muffled, “Shmgh thm fmmph uhh.”

Wanda smirks, “Don’t be a brat.” 

You try to protest, but suddenly her fingers shove even further into your mouth, and you focus on not gagging as you feel a single finger slip inside your wet pussy. It's the best thing you’ve ever felt and you immediately want to beg for more. But, it’s a bit hard to do that with fingers buried deep in your mouth. 

Almost as if she’s reading your mind, Wanda slips another finger inside you, both of them knuckle deep in your pussy as she feels you clench desperately around her. It’s laughably easy to start thrusting, her fingers sliding in and out of you easily as wetness coats them. 

Curling her fingers, Wanda feels your muscles tighten further when she presses against that spongy spot of pure pleasure deep inside you. Smiling, she fucks you faster, watching you droll around her fingers as your eyes roll back when she repeatedly hits your g-spot. 

“Good girl, you’re taking me so well,” She delights in the choked moan that escapes you at her words, every fantasy of hers playing out as she fucks you dumb. Wanda had always wondered what you would sound like in the throes of ecstasy, and it was even more angelic than she imagined. 

Her fingers curl again, and your entire body seems to seize up. Your fingers scrabble weakly against her forearm, one hand gripping the sheets with white knuckles as your second orgasm washes over you. 

Wanda fucks you through it, slowing only briefly when the pleasure threatens to turn painful. Before long, you’re rolling your hips again as you attempt to grind down on her fingers, and Wanda can find it in herself to deny you. 

She fucks you through another orgasm, before roughly pulling her fingers from your mouth and attaching her lips to your clit again. The dual pleasure of her fingers deep inside you while her tongue quickly flicks against your clit sends you straight into another orgasm before the first one is fully finished. 

You lose count of how many orgasms Wanda gives you, pleasure ebbing and flowing through your body as her presence invades every corner of your consciousness. Her vanilla perfume clings to your damp skin, her green eyes piercing even when you close your own. Her lips, soft and incessant as her tongue never tires. Her teeth, marking your skin and claiming you as hers. 

At one point, Wanda allows you to eat her out, your legs still trembling while she gently strokes your clit as your tongue eagerly laps up her leaking arousal. You wrap your arms around her thighs, holding her against you and drawing three orgasms from her while she shakes and gasps above you. 

You’re rewarded with a passionate makeout session, her fingers bringing you to your final orgasm while her tongue thoroughly explores your mouth. Your lips tingle when you pull away, parted as the last tendrils of your pleasure are pulled through you. 

Finally, you gently push Wanda’s hand away from the slick mess between your thighs, something in your eyes telling her that you’re truly finished. 

“Wanda, I…” You trail off, not really knowing what to say, still catching your breath. 

A chuckle sounds out, and Wanda nuzzles her face into your neck, inhaling deeply. She curls around you, breathing deeply as you hold her. “You don’t have to say anything, I know.”

“No,” You tilt her chin up, wanting to look her in her eyes. “I need you to understand something.”

A worried look appears in your best friend's eyes, and you curse yourself for your terrible wording. As she begins to pull away, you place your lips against hers, feeling Wanda sigh into your mouth as your hand pulls her back against you. 

“I really like you,” The words are whispered against Wanda’s lips, her green eyes boring into yours. “I need you to know that I’m not just here for sex, as amazing as it is. I want something more with you. I want us to create something… meaningful.”

“I want that too, idiot,” Wanda shoves you playfully, “Don’t scare me like that again.”

You chuckle, too tired to formulate many more words. Wanda snuggles closer, her breaths evening out as she wraps an arm around your waist. 

“Oh, fuck.” You say, and Wanda feels a vague sense of alarm shoot through her tired brain. She looks at you inquiringly, and you grin sheepishly down at her. 

“The tea has gone cold.”

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff

[glitterypinkconverse]

can you write one where y/n flirts with earth 42 miles and shit but hes not into it at first but when she flirts with someone else he gets jealous? then at the end she confronts him and they get into a fight then he confesses during the argument

─ ⊹ ⊱ JEALOUSY

e-42!miles x fem!reader

summary after many months of miles not showing interest in you, you finally decide to move on. but he’s not having it.

request by anonymous ! 🎧 been away by brent faiyaz

a/n this was so rushed i’m sorry 😭😭 you can tell at the ending but it’s been a while since i’ve done one of these writings so 🤷‍♀️ enjoy!!

warnings angst, jealousy

“Morning Miles!” You chirped, watching as he came to sit next to you for Spanish class. He ignored you like he normally did, causing you to roll your eyes.

You’ve been getting tired of him ignoring you constantly despite sending visible hints that you, the only girl in the whole entire school who would talk to him, likes him. Something about his snarky behavior, his accented voice, and his overall appearance drew you closer to him.

It all started when you guys were assigned to sit next to each other resulting in becoming Spanish partners, which made you slowly develop feelings towards him.

And him too.

Though he never expressed it, he loved the comments you made to him, the way your eyes glistened when talking to anyone (he especially loved it when they sparkled when talking to him), and your overall personality attracted him towards you. And he didn’t know why.

What he did know though, was that something was off. From his peripheral vision, he didn’t see you sneak any glances at him. He didn’t hear your voice the whole class apart from the good morning you said to him, and when it was time for class to be dismissed you didn’t say goodbye to him.

You quickly got out of your seat, rushing towards your friends and completely ignoring him. He shrugged it off as you had something important to tell them, but this treatment went on for a week.

You completely ignored him, and he hated it so very much. Even when you had to turn and talk to him, you didn’t say anything to him except for the few words in Spanish you two had to recite to each other.

He got curious one day after class and followed you the way you used to do to him. But a few steps behind, of course.

The sight he was met with was his girl flirting with another guy, laughing and having the same sparkle in your eyes the way you do with everyone else.

It all hit him like bricks when you reached up and moved the hair out of that random guy's face, and topped it off with a giggle that you would only give him. He clenched his jaw and walked away, attempting to keep his calm.

He couldn’t bear you flirting with other guys that wasn’t him, he couldn’t bear the thought of you talking to other guys that wasn’t him.

He wanted to be yours, and he wanted you to be his.

A week passed with this treatment, and it was paining you as much as it was paining Miles.

You could feel him getting cold again, and you hated it. He probably saw you flirting with that other guy, but you didn’t care. That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“Miles,” you said in the middle of class out of nowhere, causing Miles to become curious.

“Hm?” Miles responded, his usual only response.

“Can we talk after class?”

“If you’re not talking to that white guy, sure,” his words were like poison. He was watching you? You ignored it and rolled your eyes and huffed, his usual behavior coming back.

The rest of the class felt like it went on forever, your leg anxiously bouncing and two eyes pierced through your head the whole class. His eyes.

You knew that the conversation you two were about to have would either result in going back to completely avoiding each other, or maybe it would work it out for you two.

However, you couldn’t get your mind off of him. Miles was the only thought for the rest of the class, and it didn’t help that you felt his sharp gaze on you the rest of class.

It was only when the bell rang you were dismissed from your thoughts, quickly turning to Miles who was already staring at you and motioning for you to lead the way.

“What’s with the hurrying mamí?” He asked as you were leading him through the crowded hallway, although he was dying to hear what you wanted to say to him.

Maybe he could finally tell you how he felt.

You came to a stop when you two exited the school, Miles turning to you.

“Why are you such an ass?” You suddenly asked, causing Miles to be taken aback.

“I’m the ass? The hell are you talking about?” He questioned back, a cold glare on his face.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You ignore me the whole year, and then you follow me when I talk to some guy that I barely know.” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, cause, that guy isn’t good for you. He’s bad news, Y/N.”

“You don’t know shit. You can’t be saying this shit while you don’t even speak a single word to me.”

He scoffed, then crossed his arms mimicking you. “Yeah? I talk to you plenty. More than I talk to anyone else, in fact.” He mimicked.

You two were now causing a scene outside the school, but you didn’t care. You had to let him know how you felt. Even if you still had feelings for this cold blooded ass, you were sick of the way he was constantly ignoring you.

“Miles for the love of god, I’ve given you so many signs! But you haven’t reciprocated any of them! So for you to be constantly following me, looking at me, and getting jealous of other guys is bullshit!”

He was quiet for a few seconds, which made you even more angry. How could he be quiet while you were being so vulnerable to him?

“Maybe I just feel protective over you,” he shrugged. You were left agape, now knowing how to respond. His lips couldn’t help but form into a smirk, knowing he said the right thing. He sighed before he started knowing you wouldn’t respond, “Escucha Y/N, I might not show my feelings well but I know damn well you like me, and it just so happens that I like you too.”

You were shocked, this emotionless man felt the same way that you felt about him? You had to be dreaming.

“Cut it out, Miles, we both know you’re lying.”

“Mamí, you’re the only girl who talks to me, who gives me attention. You happen to be pretty cute too,” he smirked. He knew you weren’t going to respond, so he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and guided you out onto the sidewalk.

“Let’s get food, shall we?”

[celesteleoves]

Could you do a todoroki oneshot/head cannons for him having a secrete crush on (y/n) and doing some cheesy confessions? Thanks a lot!!❤️🤍

“I LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL MY NAME.”

shoto todoroki x reader.

summary: shoto has developed a crush that even he himself doesn’t quite understand, so he’s hiding it. you however, have a small huge crush on him yourself aswell. hopefully he can confess!

warnings: mentions of the todoroki family, shoto being a little insecure, fluff with a SMALL tinge of angst! reader is as whipped as he is lol!

a/n: i decided to turn this into a little one shot. ty for requesting this ml! i really enjoy writing shoto and trying to understand his character (especially trying to interpret how he would do a confession lol!) enjoy!!!! pls send more requests. this is quite long i feel like :( i hope it’s to your liking!!!

—

“todoroki, have you ever wondered what it would be like to be in love?”

that was a sentence shoto didn’t think he’d have to answer at 10 am in the morning. yet here he is. standing very stiffly next to a happy momo who is helping him make breakfast for their classmates. the question certainly woke him up at this early time.

“not really.”

“oh come on! you know i’m not the type to push boundaries but are you sure?” momo looked at him in confusion, for a boy like shoto everyone would’ve thought love defintely came easily to him.

“i don’t think i have. please hand me the knife.”

momo sighed and passed him the knife before moving around the kitchen and grabbing the rest of the ingredients to finish up their meal.

——

the conversation with momo had been stuck in shoto’s head all throughout the day (it was currently 1 pm). he felt as though he answered her wrong. yet, how would he know a thing about love? romantic love. souls being practically tied to another. he didn’t know anything about it.

shoto felt uneasy facing emotions he never explored: love. It was like standing on a cliff's edge, peering into an unfamiliar abyss. His usually composed demeanor faltered as he grappled with the intensity of these new feelings. yet, despite his apprehension, a part of him was curious, cautiously reaching out to understand this uncharted territory.

from a young age, shoto learned he couldn't rely on his parents to model what real love looked like or how to navigate relationships. they weren't an example he could follow, leaving him uncertain and unguided in matters of the heart. that’s something shoto learnt at a young age, he couldn’t rely on his parents to show him what real love looks like.

he’s not very good at lying. thats also something shoto learnt at a young age. it baffles him how he has been able to hide his crush on you for this long.

you sat comfortably next to shoto, scrolling through your phone and peppering him with questions about the various foods you were discovering on your Pinterest feed.

“oh my gosh! did you know that strawberries are the most common fruit people use to confess their love?” you grinned like a child and turned your phone towards shoto who was already paying attention to your scrolling.

“oh wow, i didn’t know that.” shotos answer came out more nonchalant than he wanted and he winced, praying you wouldn’t be upset with him.

instead, you felt a warmth in your stomach at his words. excited to teach him more about strawberries, you leaned closer.

shotos breath hitched at the smell of your perfume engulfing his senses, he could practically see ever detail of your face. to the way you did your makeup all the way down to the necklace you wore that shoto had gifted you for your birthday.

the sight made shotos cheeks flushed as he took deep breaths. as of right now, shoto wished he would be more calm like he usually is.

damn it, hiding a crush is not easy.

little did either of you know, you were both thinking the same thing.

——

strawberries. the history of the strawberry dates back to Ancient Rome where the fruit was considered the symbol of Venus, the goddess of love, because of its red color and enticing taste.

shoto had been sitting in his dorm for hours looking up facts about strawberries.

he gently placed his phone down and pondered. does the kitchen have strawberries? or would he have to go buy some?

“i’ll check the kitchen.” he mumbled, hurriedly making his way there.

upon his arrival, he realized everyone seemed to be also chilling in their dorms. it was only 5 o’clock and a free day for his classmates to relax and catch up.

he searched the fridge, a deep frown settling on his face when he realized there were no strawberries.

shoto stared at the fridge for a couple minutes, debating what to do.

“shoto? is that you?” he jumped at the sound of the kitchen door creaking open but relaxed after realizing it was just you.

“sorry! didn’t mean to scare you. what are you looking for?” you moved towards him, stopping right behind him and peering over his shoulder to look at what the fridge might contain for him.

much to shotos dismay, it didn’t contain the one thing he wanted. the thing he craved however was just standing behind him.

“i want strawberries. do you want to come to the store with me to get some?” shoto peered back at you with the cutest look on his face. your heart clenched at his unintentional puppy eyes.

“yes! i mean- sure.” you stumbled over your words and he softly smiled, moving to grab his hoodie as you excitedly walked beside him, leaving the dorms and heading to the store.

the walk was calm, exactly what you needed but also despised. for months, it felt as if you had been left in the dark with shoto. it seems as though he’s keeping something from you.

selfishly, you really want to understand his sudden demeanour change. he’s almost softer, sweeter and very careful with you.

selfishly, shoto also wants to just run away and hide. he is not good at keeping secrets from you. this secret is something he knows would affect your friendship greatly. which is why he’s afraid.

“shoto. we’re here.” you spoke to him softly, the chill evening air makes you feel at peace next to him and shoto swears you glow as the afternoon sun hits the side of your face perfectly.

“i really want strawberries.” shoto said and you swore you almost let out a cackle at his blunt words, why did he need that fruit so badly?

“then let’s look!”

you two trudged to the fruit section of the store, analyzing which strawberries would be perfect.

“y/n, look at these ones.” shoto beckoned you over and you happily walked over to where he stood.

shoto had managed to find the most perfect strawberries you had never seen, they looked so perfect! (just like him) and you quickly nodded your head towards the cashier.

“hello! my my, what a lovely young couple you two are! did you know, strawberries are a symbol of love?” the cashier, a friendly middle aged women, spoke endearingly at you two.

“oh! we aren’t a-”

“thank you, m’aam.” shoto softly smiled at the lady and she grinned back, winking at you as you blushed.

“have a good one, you two!” the cashier waved as you two exited the store, you being too flustered to reply while shoto waved back at her.

his nerves began to get the best of him, his idea didn’t seem like it would work now. what if his perspective of love is wrong and he’s doing the opposite of what you think love is? the questions continued to plague his mind like a sick joke and taunt. his mind seemed to be his biggest enemy.

were you against the idea of dating him? you didn’t reply to the lady in the store. was it his scar? was it his personality? shoto suddenly really liked the idea of crawling into hole.

you moved towards a bench nearby, patting the seat next to you. you didn’t enjoy how quiet shoto had been. normally he would at least say a few words and you would be able to continue the conversation. shoto seemed speechless suddenly.

shoto stared at the batch of strawberries in his lap, grateful they were washed. he could eat them now with you.

he picked up what seemed like one singular strawberry that laid perfectly on top of the rest. as he picked the strawberry up, it revealed to be a double strawberry. (press on the text to learn more!)

“woah! a double strawberry, can we split it?” you spoke for the first time in a while and shoto felt his heart swoon, you wanted to share a strawberry with him?

shoto only nodded and split the strawberry for you two, a red hue very evident on his cheeks as he took a bite of the strawberry.

“you know, i’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while.”

shotos nerve racking words caused you to perk up in your seat as you quietly ate the strawberry, encouraging him to continue.

“um, strawberries mean love.” shoto mentally face palmed. that is not what he wanted to say!

you giggle, “i know sho! i told you that.”

silence overtook you two once again as you gave shoto a moment to think about his words, patiently nervously swinging your legs back and fourth beneath the bench.

“it is also said that if you spilt a double strawberry with someone, you two will fall in love.” shoto whispered those words as if they were forbidden.

your eyes widened and you let out a huff of laughter, trying to make humour of the situation incase he does but agree with your next words.

“and what happens if you’re already in love?”

shotos eyes bulged, he looked up from where he was staring at his feet nervously to make eye contact with you for the first time in a while.

the feeling of being nervous about what the other will say seems so intense, but once you're already in love, every word they utter becomes a symphony that warms your heart. you two felt that way each time the other spoke.

“then… the two will grow their relationship and be more than friends?” shoto asked shyly.

“yeah, that sounds about right.” you grinned, shuffling closer to shoto, finishing your strawberry as you place your head on his shoulder.

shoto smiled a toothy grin, silently applauding himself. his confession wasn’t as bad he thought it would be! strawberries really do symbolize love.

——

A/N: UM HI… i hope this was how you wanted it!!! i kinda got carried away… if you guys can’t tell i really like strawberries so i had to include them. please send tips for me to improve my writing and requests for not just mha, but jjk too!

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The only thing Eddie is dreading as much as Steve’s return for his things is Wayne’s inevitable question about where Steve is at all.

After all, Steve has practically been living with them for weeks – something that Eddie may not have allowed himself to consider the significance of, but which Wayne cannot have failed to notice. Though Steve had (apparently) felt the need to do things around the trailer to stay in Wayne’s good graces, he really didn’t have to worry about it; Wayne likes him, and he’ll be asking sooner or later just where Steve has gone.

‘Sooner’ comes two nights after Eddie royally fucks things over. It’s Wayne’s night off, and there’s really no avoiding him; their new trailer is bigger than the last, but it’s still close quarters, and Eddie gets caught when he passes through the living room to get a drink from the kitchen.

“Noticed Steve isn’t here tonight,” Wayne says, blunt as hell, because he doesn’t see the point in doing things any other way.

“Nope,” Eddie says shortly, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap.

“Wasn’t here last night, either,” Wayne goes on.

“He was not,” Eddie confirms.

“Wasn’t here when I got in yesterday morning,” Wayne says.

“You are a veritable font of observation tonight,” Eddie says, only a little snarky.

Wayne shrugs. “Hard not to notice when he’s here nine days out of ten, then suddenly up and disappears,” he says. He pauses a moment before adding, “Stuff’s gone from the bathroom, too.”

Eddie occupies himself with slowly swallowing down half his glass of water before he answers. “Yeah.”

“Don’t suppose he’s going on a trip,” Wayne doesn’t quite ask, and Eddie lets out a bitter sort of laugh.

“Loving the optimism from you, but no, not… not so much.”

There are a few beats of silence, and then Wayne lets out a slow sigh. Eddie knows him well enough to understand the sound of it – he’s just decided to get involved.

“You two have a fight?”

“Something like that,” Eddie mutters.

“Well that’s vague as hell, son. You have a fight, or didn’t you?” Wayne prods.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “No, I– I don’t think so. I think it was all me,” he says, finally looking up from his glass and meeting Wayne’s questioning gaze. “I fucked up, Wayne.”

There’s no immediate judgement coming from Wayne, no suspicion or scorn, not even a shake of the head and some variation of “Of course you did.” There’s only a measured sort of curiosity in his stare, the same way it’s been since Eddie was a kid and Wayne was trying to figure him out; it’s sort of comforting in its familiarity, in its neutrality.

“You wanna tell me about it?” Wayne asks.

Eddie knows that if he says no, Wayne will let it go. He might keep sending curious and worried looks Eddie’s way, he might ask a few more prodding questions over the next few days, but he won’t make Eddie say anything he doesn’t want to. And Eddie doesn’t really want to – but he thinks that maybe he needs to.

“If… you had to define mine and Steve’s relationship, what would you say?” Eddie asks after a moment.

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’d say that feels like a trick question.”

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It’s not, I swear. I’m seriously curious,” he says. “There are no wrong answers – go.”

“Well,” Wayne says, still eyeing Eddie consideringly, “I don’t know if you kids put labels on things these days or what, but from the outside, I’d say you’re dating. I’d say that boy is fully in love with you and that you’re at least halfway to loving him back.”

“Right.” Eddie gives a jerky nod. “Seems like that’s what pretty much everyone thinks.”

“But that’s not what’s going on,” Wayne takes a guess.

“Well, that depends on your perspective,” Eddie says, a little high and tight.

“Well, the only perspectives worth a damn here’re yours’n Steve’s,” Wayne shoots back. “So what would those be?”

Eddie drains the last of his water, turning away to put the glass in the sink. “Steve… shares your perspective. Or, uh– he did. But I… I didn’t realize he was so serious. I thought we were just kind of messing around.”

The silence from behind Eddie is so thick that he can’t help but finally turn around and meet Wayne’s gaze again.

“That’s a hell of a blind spot, Ed,” Wayne says simply, and Eddie folds in on himself a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. His main defense has always been to become larger than life – to make big gestures and even bigger speeches, but everything about this situation makes him feel like nothing so much as small.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“So, what, you figured out how serious he was and thought you didn’t want that?” Wayne asks, and Eddie hunches a little further in on himself.

“Nope. No, that– would’ve been better, actually. If that’s what happened. But that’s not what happened, because did I mention I fucked up? Because I seriously fucked up.” Eddie’s rambling is stemmed by an expectant look from Wayne. “It’s just – the other night, when the guys were over, we got to talking about it. The whole… me and Steve thing. As in, they thought me and Steve were a thing. And they asked me about it. While Steve was out of the room. And then he, uh. Hm.” Eddie rubs a hand nervously over his chin. “He walked back in when I was in the middle of telling them that he's just a friend and that we’re just having fun. And that’s… when I found out how serious he was.”

“Eddie…”

“I know. I know!” Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Wayne to catch the disappointment coming off of him, so he doesn’t. He scrubs hands over his face and then just leaves him there, telling the rest of the story to his palms. “He was so fucking upset, Wayne, I think– I think I actually made him cry? And the only reason he hasn’t been here to get the rest of his stuff out of the trailer yet is because he was down with a migraine the next day. Like, I hurt him so badly I made him physically ill. So I didn’t just fuck up, but I’m actually a horrible human being and should probably spend the rest of my days living in isolation so I don’t ruin anyone else’s life.”

Wayne is silent for so long that Eddie is eventually forced to peek out from behind his fingers.

“You’re not gonna tell me how bad I fucked up?” Eddie asks, still a bit muffled.

“Seems like you have that covered already,” Wayne says, then he holds up one arm in offer, nodding towards the empty spot beside him on the couch. “C’mere.”

He doesn’t need to ask Eddie twice. No matter how old he gets, Eddie doesn’t think a genuine hug from his uncle will ever stop being comforting, and regardless of whether or not he thinks he actually deserves it right now, he’s going to take it. He crashes down onto the couch and leans heavily into Wayne’s side, sighing as Wayne wraps his arm around his shoulders.

“You’re not a bad person, Ed. You made a mistake, s’all,” Wayne says, and Eddie scoffs.

“Pretty big fucking mistake,” he mutters.

“Yep, that was a doozy. You hurt someone you care about, and you might not be able to fix it all the way. But that doesn’t make you terrible. Makes you human.” Wayne gives Eddie a comforting squeeze. “And Steve ain’t a bad person, either. He’ll know you mean it when you tell him you’re sorry.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

“You think about what you’re gonna do when he does show to get the rest of his stuff?” Wayne asks.

“Besides grovel?” Eddie shoots back.

“I mean, what’re you gonna grovel for?”

Eddie lets out a long breath. “I… I know I might not be able to fix it, but I just – I want the chance to try. I’m hoping he’ll just give me that chance.” Eddie pauses for a moment, choked by the dread of the thought that Steve might not give him that chance. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were, but I at least want him to know that even if I’m shit at showing it, I do care.”

“Sounds like a decent place to start,” Wayne says.

“Think so?” Eddie asks.

“Mm.”

“Well… I hope Steve thinks so, too.”

Wayne gives his shoulders another squeeze and says nothing more, but he doesn’t really have to. He’s already settled Eddie’s nerves more than he’d thought possible; just this is more than enough.

Now Eddie just has to try to hold onto the feeling long enough to talk to Steve.

-

It turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to hold onto the feeling for very long at all; the very next morning—two days after Robin had read Eddie the riot act and left him to begin tentatively planning—another knock comes at the door.

It’s ten in the morning – not as early as Eddie had expected, but early enough that he’s not long out of bed when he opens the door to find Steve on the other side.

In contrast to Eddie’s sweatpants and t-shirt, Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to look like he’s alright. His polo is clean and tucked in, the collar is straight, his hair is as perfectly styled as ever – but there’s still something off. There are dark circles under his eyes, stark against a paler than normal complexion, and none of the ease or contentment that Eddie has grown used to shines from his face. He feels a little like he wants to mourn its absence.

“Hey,” Steve says, nodding in greeting.

“Hey,” Eddie says back, because for all his thoughts and planning, he hadn’t really considered how to start this encounter.

“I came to get my shit out of your way,” Steve says, and Eddie frowns.

It’s not in my way, he wants to say. You’re not in my way. Leave your stuff. Stay.

“Uh. Yeah, sure,” Eddie says instead, stepping aside to let Steve in.

Steve is carrying a cardboard box, but doesn’t seem to have anything or anyone else in tow. For as spread throughout Eddie’s life as Steve has become, he wonders if all of him will fit into that one box.

“Kinda surprised you didn’t bring Buckley to help pack,” Eddie says, glancing back out the screen door, as if Robin might appear out of nowhere.

“Just dropped her off at work,” Steve says. “I figured she probably already had… words for you when she picked up my meds, and I didn’t think any of us needed an encore.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says quietly. “The stuff she said got me thinking.”

In the process of grabbing a jacket he’d left behind off one of the hooks by the door, Steve only glances back at Eddie. “I’m sure she had a lot to say,” he says, carefully neutral.

“Yeah. She, uh – definitely did. Can we talk?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs. “Eddie…”

“Just hear me out, please. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you pack in peace, I promise,” Eddie says.

“We don’t– have to talk about it,” Steve says, turning back to face Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry for putting my weird expectations on you. I was reading into stuff that wasn’t there, and I made assumptions instead of just talking to you, and that’s on me. So I’m gonna just – get out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with my stupid, delusional bullshit anymore.”

“No, that’s not– Steve–” Eddie reaches out for Steve as he tries to brush past on his way to the bedroom, where most of his belongings are. He gets a hand around Steve’s bicep and, though Steve doesn’t jerk away this time, he goes stiff and still beneath Eddie’s touch, prompting Eddie to let go.

It hurts; even though Eddie’s done it to himself, the reaction still hurts. He’s always reached for Steve in the past, always had his hands on him, and Steve had always welcomed him, even before they’d started sleeping together. Now, Eddie takes a step back, forcing himself to give Steve some space.

“That’s not what I want to say at all,” he says. “I mean – I would’ve liked if we’d talked about it, because then I would’ve known, and I could’ve appreciated what it was – what we were doing.”

Steve turns back to face Eddie, his gaze snapping straight to him with equal suspicion and confusion. “What?”

“Steve, you weren’t reading into things that weren’t there, you’re not– you’re not stupid or delusional, I was just – I was sending you mixed signals,” Eddie says. “I was so wrapped up in thinking that I knew what was going on, that I didn’t look at what I really had, and I’m sorry. But if I knew, if I’d just gotten my head out of my ass, you have to believe that in a heartbeat, I would have–”

“Don’t,” Steve cuts in sharply.

“Steve–”

“I don’t need whatever this is, Eddie,” Steve snaps. “You don’t need to have pity on your pathetic ex-whatever I am to you, okay? It’s okay, just– just let it go.”

“This isn’t pity,” Eddie insists with an incredulous little laugh. “It’s fucking not, I swear! This is me saying that I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I want the chance to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me– in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”

“Whatever capacity?” Steve stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Whatever you’ll be comfortable with. As a friend, or… as more, if that bridge hasn’t burned,” Eddie says.

“What, so now I’m relationship material?” Steve asks, pointed.

Eddie winces. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that, and if I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head before I let any of that shit out and hurt you with it, I would. I know that… I know I didn’t pay enough attention to you, but I also wasn’t paying very much attention to how I was feeling,” he says. “Because honestly? I’m kind of a moron, Steve. I’ve never had sex with someone I really liked, with someone who was anything like a friend, and when I started wanting to be around you all the time, and always wanting you within reach, and when every little thing started to remind me of you, I just thought… yeah, this is what friends-with-benefits feels like. Y’know, like a fucking idiot.”

Steve doesn’t laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that,” he says softly, and that’s fair.

It hurts, but it’s fair.

“Then let me earn your trust back. Please, Steve, just… give me the chance,” Eddie implores, doesn’t even care that he’s basically begging – Eddie doesn’t beg, but for Steve, he’ll make an exception. For Steve, he thinks he’ll do just about anything.

Pursing his lips, Steve looks at the floor beside Eddie’s feet for a long moment, and Eddie gives him the time to sort his thoughts out.

“I want to say yes. Part of me just wants to accept your apology and pretend that none of this happened. Just keep going the way we were,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing that – ignoring shit. I just… can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Eddie says. “I don’t want things to be like they were before, I want – I want to be better. I want to do better.”

“How?” Steve asks, both challenging and curious.

“I want to do it right. I want to show you how much I appreciate you, and how much you mean to me. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated,” Eddie insists. “And if that’s just by being the best friend I can be, then that’s what I’ll do, but I would love—love—if you’d let me romance you.”

That briefly breaks through Steve’s stony façade, and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Romance me?”

“Shit, yeah. Flowers and chocolates and candle-lit dates – the whole nine yards,” Eddie says with a slow grin. “All the things you’ve given other people but that no one has ever given you.”

“I…” Steve starts, his own humor fading quickly. “I don’t know.”

It’s better than an outright ‘no.’

“That’s okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t have to know right now. I can wait. I’m a patient kinda guy.”

(That’s an absolute lie, and they both know it, but Eddie will find all the patience in the world if Steve needs time to think.)

Slowly, Steve nods. “I think… Just, give it a couple of weeks, okay? Really think about it, and if this – if I’m something you still want by then, come talk to me again,” he says. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods rapidly. “As much time as you want. I’m not going to up and change my mind. Two weeks, I’ll ask again.”

Steve shrugs, taking a step back towards the bedroom.

“I will,” Eddie promises – not defensive, but certain. He can wait two weeks. He can wait as long as Steve needs him to. Maybe he can take the time to get his shit together.

He does care about Steve. He does pay attention – and he’s going to prove it.

But in the meantime, the only thing Steve has asked for is space, so Eddie gives it to him. He retreats to the kitchen to let Steve pack up in peace, trying hard not to feel bereft at the thought of the gaps Steve will be leaving behind.

If he’s lucky—if he’s very, very lucky—it won’t be forever.

Part 5

-

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