#hey remember what i was saying about red and green
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One day you'll get that slasher movie monster role, Plasma. One day.
(The background here is derived from a couple AI gen'd images and then tweaked/drawn over by hand.)
#hey remember what i was saying about red and green#touched the robot#noodledoodle#scifi hell#tikken#plasma.oc#....i have a feeling ppl dont care to hear it. but id be happy to share the process here#honestly i Always like talking about making things i just feel annoying if i do it unprompted whoops
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Recently i noticed that one of my favorite panels is way more boring in the english version than in the one i read. So. I decided to share it with you.
English version:
German version:
Translation: "Red... I understand your feelings [...] but in a battle there should be no romantic feelings."
[from chapter 40]
#I have no idea what it says in any other version including the Japanese one but feel free to tell me#Otherwise reguri but only in german#Pokespe#Trainer red#Blue oak#Green oak#Reguri#Originalshipping#Hey you guys remember how i said last week i will not post about ships again. Haha. But well. Come on i had to#Pokemon#I also know there are different english translations of the manga idk which one this is. The one i saw on the uhm#Read manga very legally website. You know.
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Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.
#luly talks#my dreams#I'll peace like i can recollect it was weird#bc it literally was ME BUYING GROCERIES W MY DAD but then the line between when we ended and Michael and William started blurred#i remember the grocery store very well also bc it was very similar to the one i go always to but smaller and more sepia#it was dark for a grocery store like it was just letting sunlight in#pears were half off like some black friday offer so all the products were suuuper cheap#i saw one bottle of milky pear juice for like 1k. and the same w these 4 stacks of frozen waffles who were like 1070.#or this bottle of pear pancake mixture that had 2 or 4 lts#it was kind of when i went away that thr lines started blurring so let me tell you what i remember about this Afton:#he didnt seem. murderous. he was grocery shopping w his kid for fuck's sake 😭 i think he was even sitting somewhere while i ran back and#forth taken aback by these offers? like kinda dismissive at best#uh. Henry was brought up believe it or not. it was like... they broke up or something? like he was kinda upset about the mention but like#in a i dont want to explain why im not with him rn sort of way#very insecure he seemed. like he run into this woman who might've been someone but idk who was whom asked sbout henry and bro was SWEATING#you'd say dream william was a fucking loser he just got locked in thinking like what do i say and HOW do i say it#to make it sound casual but also not weird.#bc on top of all he also seemed to have some weird gender things going on bc he first instinct when trying to explain himself to the woman#(who i cannot stress enough was super friendly like a fucking neighbor or something just going hey hi! hows da family? ^_^)#was to refer to them both as girls as this jokey comradery Let's Ignore The Topic thing before going No That's Bad I Can't Say That#this whole internal monologue in my dream happened in a sort of comic panel thing btw where shit went from these warm browns and greens and#shit from the grocery store to jarring black and whites and reds as William tried to have a straight thought#looks wise unfortunately not a lot going on.though considering this was literally my dream getting turned over can we say my Afton is argie#something something my turn stealing from them etc etc or whatever#uh. brown hair. but not too dark. it was greying and that was making it lighter. also very angular face as you'd expect#high cheekbones pretty eyebrows no facial hair. hair was a bit longuish tho? like a messy ear length maybe?#he had a button up w buttons lose bc it's so hot and humid rn also sunglasses which i know 100% was influenced bc the last design i rbed#a little.before napping#also he had age makes too though his age was most visible in his scrawny long exposed neck#me/mike change was minimal bc we're both pale and brunette hit tag limit so hope y'all like my brain's oc i guess 😭
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.4K] request from anon: what about Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before?
“Sloppy?” Steve grimaced, smiling through your word choice despite the disappointment he felt for you.
You shrugged, nose crinkled as you remembered. “Yeah. Wet, y’know? And not like— it was just too much…tongue.”
There was a silence, a sad kind that filled the room. Steve wasn’t sure what to say. You kind of regretted telling the boy. So you sighed and shrugged it off again, biting the head off of red Sour Patch Kid.
“Maybe I just don’t like making out,” you sounded defeated and Steve hated it, frowning as he watched you chew your candy mournfully, your back pressed to the side of his unmade bed. “That’s normal, right? Like, some people just don’t like things like that and—”
“Hey, hey,” Steve knocked his foot against yours, legs stretched out across his bedroom floor. The pack of playing cards had been abandoned beside some unopened twizzlers and Steve’s can of cherry soda. “Look, of course that’s normal. And— and if that’s how you feel, that’s totally okay, alright?”
The boy hesitated, worried his bottom lip between his teeth and wondered if he should keep talking. You watched him, brows raised expectantly.
“I just think—” Steve cleared his throat, his pointer finger dragging patterned across his carpet. He shrugged, all faux nonchalance. He didn’t want to sound like a creep, not to his best friend. Not to you. “I just think that maybe you’ve not had a good kiss, y’know?”
You didn’t answer, not right away. And Steve didn’t try and backtrack, or explain himself, he just waited, watching you think. His bedroom window was open, the sounds of the early evening slipping through. Someone’s backyard pool filter, their sprinklers out the front, the quiet spin of a kids bike going down the sidewalk.
You didn’t look at Steve when you finally asked, “well, what is a good kiss?”
You felt stupid, asking such a thing at your age but maybe you’d grown up picking all the wrong kinds of guys. Impatient boys, greedy boys, selfish boys. Boys who turned into men who didn’t have the time of day to take it slow with a girl like you. Boys who thought they were men, who used too much teeth and tongue and pressure and tasted like cheap party beer and the leftover smoke of their cigarette.
Guys who got too handsy too quick, guys who didn’t care that when they pulled away from your lips, you swiped the back of your hand over your mouth and tried not to frown.
Steve shifted a little, cheeks turning pink as his eyes found yours. “Well,” he gestured at you, awkward. His gaze settled on your lips before he blinked and looked away. “I mean, it helps when you really like the person, y’know? The uh, the chemistry of it all.”
You swallowed, throat feeling tight, chest feeling too warm. You remember Nancy talking about those kinds of feelings when she first kissed Jonathan, a dopey, soft smile on her lips as she recounted it, telling you of the buzz under her skin, the flips that her stomach did when he leaned in to meet her, eyes closing.
“Sure,” you agreed. You don’t think you’d ever felt that way about the boys you had kissed. “Right.”
“But I guess you’re supposed to take your time with it? I mean, at first, when you’re getting to know someone.” Steve smiled, soft, reassuring. His knee knocked yours. “You find out what they like.”
“What they like?” You asked, voice cracking a little. You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands. You picked up a green sour patch and bit its leg. “What does that mean?”
Steve looked bashful, miles apart from the boy you’d know in high school, with a girl on his arm in the hallways, a different one in his lap at a party that weekend.
“I’d, uh, I mean— person A would go slow with person B, right? They’d start soft. Gentle, I guess? You gotta— they’d have to figure out how the other person likes to be kissed. Not everyone shoves their tongue down your throat, y’know.”
You huffed out a laugh but it sounded weak, too breathy. You wanted the boy to keep talking, you wanted to watch his pink cheeks and his pretty eyes dart across your face, like he was searching for something.
You wondered if he’d find it.
“Not everyone?” You whispered.
“No,” Steve shook his head, his smile wry. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he was closer now, closer than before and you could smell his cologne, the cherry soda fizz that hung in the air along with Mr Jackson’s freshly mown grass. “No, no, not everyone. I’d give the girl a peck at first, yeah? Just something PG-13. Then, when she relaxes and you know, she moves closer, kisses me back, I’d—”
Steve broke off, blinking like he was getting rid of something hazy. He’d been looking at you as he spoke, words coming too easy, the air between you both warm despite the setting sun. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous, awkward again, a bashful thing that made him suddenly even more endearing than you thought he ever could be.
“You’d what, Steve?” You blinked, feeling warm, wondering if the boy could tell. You didn’t know what to do so you moved, leaning forward until you could fold your legs underneath yourself and your thigh bumped Steve’s shin. “You’d what?”
Steve’s eyes searched yours, his gaze falling to your lips and back again. You thought he found it then, that thing he seemed to be looking for. Because he cleared his throat and let one hand fall to the carpet between you, his fingers brushing over your socked toes and you almost jumped at the contact.
The silence was too loud now.
“I could show you, if you wanted.”
Someone’s lawn mower started up a few yards over, white noise buzzing in the distance as you tried to take in what Steve had just said. He was watching you, head tilted to the side, cheeks still rosy and when you looked at him carefully, you could see the barely concealed panic in his brown eyes.
He pressed his lips together and tried to smile, tight and nervous and he was picking at the carpet, fingers fidgeting as you sat there dumbly. You heard the shake in his voice when he tried to say, “I am—,” he choked on his words, panicked. “—so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Steve,” you stopped the boy with a hand on his shin, your warm palm against the denim. “We’re friends, right?”
The word seemed to burn on your tongue, like it tasted like a lie, like it was as dangerous as one. You waited, breath held, wondering if you wanted Steve to agree or not.
“Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly so serious. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course we are.” He worried at his bottom lip again, looking at your own. “Best friends.”
You nodded, tongue feeling too big for your mouth to speak. Words felt clumsy, your skin too warm. Buzzing. Fizzing. You weren’t sure if it was you or the air.
“Show me.”
You thought Steve would maybe hesitate, maybe he’d back out or shout, ‘got you!’ like those prank shows Dustin liked to watch. You thought he’d maybe lay down some rules, maybe he’d tell you how this didn’t mean anything and really, he was only doing his sad friend a favour.
He didn’t do any of that. In fact he didn’t say anything else at all. Steve just let out a breath and nodded once, almost to himself before he let his hand curl around the back of your calf and he tugged, gentle.
He lifted his chin, a casual ‘c’mere’ that had your heart thundering and you wondered if this confidence, this way of acting so sure of himself, was how he got all the girls.
A quiet sort of assertiveness that made your stomach flip inside out.
You unfurled yourself from your sitting position, shuffling to your knees as you moved across Steve’s bedroom floor, bare shins burning against the carpet. You leaned back on your heels, brought yourself down to Steve’s level where he sat against his wall, legs stretched out before him.
He didn’t warn you when he brought his hand to your face, fingers cupping your cheek and his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth and you were suddenly left wondering when Steve’s hands had gotten so big. You’d watched him grow, from a middle school kid to king Steve the senior. You’d seen the new muscles, the height, the hair. You’d never noticed his hands before but now they were on you, it’s all you could think about.
Dizzy. You felt dizzy.
“Okay?” Was all he asked, voice softer and quieter now he was so much closer.
You nodded, face too warm and licking across your bottom lip like a reflex. You weren’t sure where to look. Or where to put your hands. Most kisses you’d shared had happened in the crowds at parties or in the front seat of a boy’s car after a date. You usually lay your palms on their shoulders, holding on and wondering if every boy took these opportunities to grope your ass like a pile of dough.
“We can stop,” Steve told you. He looked nervous and if anything, it made you feel more anxious than ever. “Whenever you want, ‘kay?”
You nodded again, unable to really speak, too scared that your voice would crack or something equally stupid would happen. And maybe Steve knew this, maybe he knew you so much better than you ever thought he would, because he smiled and nodded too.
“Okay,” he announced, quiet and soft and he was moving closer, noses bumping, his eyes fluttering shut. “Here goes.”
“Wait.”
Steve paused, gaze back on your own and he looked concerned, he looked worried and before he could ask you what was wrong you were sucking in a panicked breath and asking: “what if I’m the bad kisser?”
“What?” Steve let out a laugh, breathy and disbelieving and he was still so close, his hand on your jaw and his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the apple of your cheek. He was shaking his head, smiling, looking too pretty and suddenly this seemed like a monumental thing, something gargantuan. “No, there’s no way.”
You squirmed on the floor, shifting further and then closer and Steve loosened his hold on you but you didn’t go anywhere. You just blinked at him, pained with worry. “How could you know?”
Steve paused as he thought and you wondered if he had an answer, if he was going to say something truthful or he was simply thinking of something sweet to say to placate you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and seemed to search for that�� thing, again.
I— I just—” Steve didn’t say anything, he didn’t give you an explanation or a reason.
He simply pressed his lips to yours.
It was chaste and sweet and entirely innocent, lips closed and nothing close to scandalous. But then he parted from you just a breath, looking at you from heavy lidded eyes, watching you from beneath his lashes. And when you didn’t move, you didn’t panic, Steve leaned in again, kissing you the same way until he nudged your chin up with his hand and his lips slotted between your own.
He moved slowly, carefully, with a practised ease that made your toes curl and it was still sweet, it made your tummy warm and your head spin and Steve’s lips were soft, tasting like cherry soda and sugar.
You caught up after a beat or two, your hand that wasn’t braced on the floor reaching up to cling to where you could reach. Your fingers found the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, fisting the soft material and doing everything to make sure he didn’t move away. You moved with him, lips meeting and parting over and over until Steve sucked in a breath and tilted his head to the other side, pressing closer, a little deeper.
After another soft peck, he pulled away, eyes still closed and his thumb on your chin as he whispered, voice hoarse. “See? Nothin’ to worry about.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, pressed his fingers under your jaw. “And now, a guy should be testing the waters, right?”
“They should?” You whispered back. Your eyes were still closed too, your fingers sneaking up past Steve’s collar to stroke at the skin at the base of his throat, experimental, adventurous. “How’d they do that?”
You were sure you felt the boy smile, sensed it. A warm breath across your lips as he moved closer again. “Like this—”
Another kiss, the same as before, once, twice and then Steve was parting his mouth over your own and letting the tip of his tongue lick over your bottom lip. It was a fleeting touch, a zap, a buzz, a tingle down your spine and you gasped without thinking about it, lips parting for the boy and you followed suit, tongue moving past Steve’s lips to meet his own.
He groaned then, a vibration against you, his hand skating back from your cheek to thread into your hair and he let his tongue move over your own, lips clicking every time they parted. It was slower than you’d been kissed before, something sensual about it despite being sat on your best friend’s bedroom floor and it made your insides somersault, the skin where Steve slouched burning.
“Told you,” he murmured, breath heavy as he spoke. “Nothing to worry about,” he repeated and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, face blazing with heat, Steve was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Mhmm,” you agreed, barely listening, eyes still on the boy’s mouth, fingering the collar of his shirt, not ready to let go yet. “You must be a good teacher, or something.”
Steve looked distracted, Adam’s apple bobbing, gaze on your lips too. You weren’t sure he had stopped looking at them. “Yeah, yeah. Or something.” He swallowed, throat tight. “Do you wanna stop? Or—?”
“No,” you said, maybe too quickly. “Do you?”
“God, no,” Steve agreed just as fast. “You can keep going— just— what do you want…?”
Steve’s words died on his lips as you moved suddenly, rising to your knees only to push Steve back to the wall. His hands fell to his sides, hovering in mid air as he stared, watching as you swung a leg over his knees and sat carefully on his lap. You were cautious, more on his thighs that closer to anything else but you tried to breathe evenly as you took in the position.
“Okay?” You asked him, voice caught sticky in your throat with nerves but Steve nodded, head bobbing hurriedly. You sucked in a breath, smoothing your hands over Steve’s shoulders before you did as he had, smoothing them up the sides of his neck and holding his jaw carefully. “What do I do now?”
‘Whatever you want,’ Steve wanted to beg. But apparently this was a lesson of sorts and he had something to teach you. So he cleared his throat to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack and held your hips, hands gentle and polite. “You, uh, you find out what I like.”
You nails scratched at the back of his neck, unconsciously. You licked your lips. “How do I do that?”
Steve’s hands flexed on your hips, climbing to your waist, holding you a little tighter. Something seemed to shift then, his eyes lighting up. He looked like he was ready to fight, like you’d asked him if he were up for a challenge. It made you grin.
“Kiss me.”
So you did.
You did as Steve had at the start, kissing him soft and slow and chaste, pulling away before he could catch you, teasing, nose bumping his and breaths mixing, cherry soda to fizzy candy. And just before Steve was about to groan, frustrated, you shifted closer, chest pressed to his and you parted your lips, catching his bottom lip between your own.
It was a greedier kiss and Steve let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk, opening his mouth for you, nails digging into your sides when you licked over his tongue, exploratory, gentle. You felt him nod, the tip of his nose smushed to your cheek and you smiled, amused at his praise.
“Like that?” You asked, breathless, barley parting from him to speak.
“Yeah, like that,” Steve agreed, sounding just as wrecked. “Keep going, please.”
He didn’t have to ask again. Fuck, he didn’t even have to ask as nicely as he did because you were back on him in a heartbeat, kissing your best friend like you didn’t want him to remember anyone else.
“Slower,” he whispered, muttering instructions against your mouth and you didn’t feel scolded, you didn’t feel embarrassed you just followed Steve’s instructions, pulling back slightly to kiss him softer, lips moving with his slower, slower, slower.
You heard him groan, felt his chest rumble and his hands squeeze at you in silent praise and you knew then he liked it like that, liked to be teased. You nosed at his cheek, did as he had done and pushed your thumb under his jaw to bring his mouth up to yours, his head tipping back, back, back. You pecked over his cheeks then, over the bridge of his nose and at the corner of his lips until he was panting, waiting for you.
“Yeah?” Was all you asked.
“Yeah,” he hummed, feeling like he was vibrating. He let his eyes shutter closed, waiting for your next touch. “Yeah.”
You felt bolder, brazen, pushing your lips back to Steve’s and when you pulled away this time, you nipped at the boy’s bottom lip, pulling at it gently with your teeth and until it popped softly back into place and Steve swore, he cursed, he grunted and his hips shifted under yours.
“You like that,” you noted with a smile and it wasn’t a question.
Steve didn’t speak, he couldn’t. Instead he stared up at you and nodded, dazed, throat bobbing as he swallowed tightly and tried to get himself under control.
You moved into each other again without discussion, an unconscious need that didn’t need a conversation. Your hands went to his hair, holding onto the messy ends at the nape of his neck as his travelled the expanse of your back, fingertips lifting the hem of your shirt every downstroke, his skin on yours. It was enough for you to make soft noises against him, nudging closer and Steve helped, his hands pulling at your waist until your chest pressed against his and were seated over his crotch.
You felt him then, hard and pressed underneath his jeans and it made you kiss him like you had something to prove, mouths moving together, open and panting, tongues touching teasingly, teeth grazing against lips to try and make the other moan louder.
And when Steve’s garage door opened, a groaning, grating sound below his window, it was an interruption that told you both his father had arrived home.
You slid from his lap, chest heaving and eyes heavy on Steve’s pink cheeks. His lips were shiny from your work, his hands leaving your waist at the very last second, your butt hitting his carpet rather ungracefully as you backed away, suddenly so aware of the line that had been crossed.
You were burning still, an ache between your legs that hadn’t quite been satisfied and your lips buzzed from Steve’s kisses, the slow, careful way he’d pressed his to your own. He’d paid attention, you realised, picked up on every noise you made, every shift against him, the way you kissed him back eagerly when he did something you liked. And you’d done the same, taking in his gasps and sighs, stomach flipping when his hips bucked and his chest moved a little quicker than before.
Your fingers touched your bottom lip before you pressed the back of your hand to it, as if to hide the evidence. Steve was still staring at you, panting, doing nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans.
And when his front door opened and closed and you could hear his fathers footsteps lead into his office, Steve stayed quiet. Only when the sound of the door clicking shut filled the silent house did he smile, boyish and all charm.
“See?” He reminded you, cheeks still burning. His hair was a mess from where you’d pulled on it. He looked rumpled, undone at the seams. “Told you, you weren’t a bad kisser.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington drabble
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A Different Kind of Compensation.
part two!
pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader
prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.
warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.
word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.
authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.
╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗ ╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝
The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.
You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt.
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”
“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”
He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again.
“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”
You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.
Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head.
“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.
Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.
You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly.
Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black. His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.
“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.
Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.
Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids.
Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.
"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.
Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.
Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.
"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.
"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."
Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.
As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."
He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.
"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.
Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.
He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.
“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”
Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.
Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.
“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.
It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.
“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.
Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.
He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.
After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.
You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.
It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.
He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”
You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.
You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.
“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”
#baby's first smut#i'm so nervous#don't be mean#i like it tbh#so i actually don't care if you guys don't#i'm just kidding#please like this#love you#crying screaming yelling#micheal schmidt x reader#micheal schmidt x you#mike schmidt#mike schmidt smut#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt x reader#fnaf smut#josh hutcherson#jhutch#five nights at freddy's#fnaf#fnaf movie#micheal schmidt#smut#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson smut
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Jason Attacking Tim at Titans Tower
Fanon vs Canon
We've all seen the versions in fanfiction but I'm not so sure everyone's seen the original so if you're one of those batfam fans who doesn't want to read the comics (regardless of reasons) but you are curious about how it actually went this is for you.
What I'm addressing:
What does Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Did Jason drug all the other Titans?
Did Jason really wear a Robin costume?
Did Jason slit Tim's throat or call him replacement?
Did Jason actually break Tim's bo staff?
Was Tim crying or scared?
Did Jason write a message on the wall in Tim's blood?
Did Jason's eyes glow green?/Did he follow pit rage mechanics?
Panels and details below. This is a LONG one.
What did Jason actually say to Tim during the attack?
Dialogue in fanfiction during the Titans Tower attack varies based on what kind of fic you're reading but usually its either 'time to clip Replacement's wings' if its staying a beatdown whump 'or oh no precious lil bby why is no one watching you' if its an accidental child acquisition. Not judging either option, but this ain't about them its about the real shit.
Look at these opening lines:
Hey, Tim. I was here first.You're the Red Hood. You've been cleaning up Gotham the easy way. Easy? What do you know about easy, Tim? You had a father that looked after you. You went to a private school, right? You slept in a bed. I slept on the streets, I lived in the alleyways in Gotham. Trying to survive. Until Bruce took me in. I trained as hard as I could. I did whatever he asked. . . at least at first. But it didn't matter. They said I wasn't tough enough to be robin. But today, they say you are. Show me, Tim. Show me what you have that I didn't.
Jason really puts himself out there in all of his dialogue in this encounter, the struggle of having to fight for anything and everything he got in life, even the things that came to everyone else for free, and then being told he wasn't even good enough for the things he fought for.
There's a trope in fanfics that if Jason knew Tim stalked Batman and forced his way into being Robin that it would change how Jason felt about the situation but that's even addressed in this comic:
You were a kid, worried about how Batman was spiraling down into darkness. You spent weeks tracking the dark knight. Solving a mystery no one else could. You discovered who he was behind that mask. Millionaire Bruce Wayne. You were so pleased with yourself, I'm sure that you forgot who you were really dealing with. I know Bruce Wayne. And let me tell you, Tim if someone was trying to find out who Batman really was. If someone was stalking him for weeks. He'd know about it. You can't be that good. I am. He let you find him. And I bet he said the same thing to you as he did to me, didn't he? That you had a talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light to his darkness. Robin, the Boy Wonder.
Tim saying 'I am' is really such a moment that doesn't come through in text because he is right that he really did do that but I also completely understand why Jason wouldn't believe it.
TBH my favorite part is how done Tim honestly sounds with Jason thoughout all his trauma dumping. Like imagine a grown man who used to work the same part time job as you breaking into your house, dressing up in your work uniform, ranting about how much the job ruined his life while he beats your ass??? God, and he probably had to write a fucking report about it after. RIP Timmy.
What do you want? Do you want to be Robin again? Is that it? You... want to take it away from me? Why in the hell would I ever want that? Don't you get it? When I died no one cared! No one remembered me. Are you completely insane? No one could forget you. I've spent my entire career wearing this mask under your shadow. I had to convince Batman to let me try this. All because he'll never stop blaming himself for what happened to you. You ask me, that's the only reason he hasn't taken you down. He's holding back. But me? No freakin' way. That's the Robin I wanted to see. Still. You do realize the whole idea of training a teenager to fight against something he'll never eradicate is a mistake. It didn't even surprise anyone when I died. When I failed. I failed-- but I'm still beating you. Do you think you're that good now?! Do you really, Tim? Yes.
Tim bashing Jason across the face as he says 'no freakin' way'? *chefs kiss*
Jason drugging the other Titans to knock them out?
Little bit true, Kory was actually just already away from the tower and BB and Cyborg were about to bounce because of the drama going on with Donna's return but Jason like super tazes them and then drugs Raven who he thought already went through enough shit without him knocking her out violently.
Note: Jason says in the text here that he never rolled with Cyborg or BB but like he actually did in some comics so?? The continuity is lie I guess idk.
Did he show up in Red Hood gear or a Robin costume?
Both tbh but he spent most of the time in the Robin costume but bro actually made a stripper rip away version of his Red Hood gear so he could dramatically reveal the Robin costume underneath. I can't believe no one ever includes that in their fics its so fucking funny.
Does he call Tim 'replacement' or slit his throat?
No, this came from a Batman comic with Hush not Teen Titans. That incident takes place in a graveyard not Titans Tower and he calls Tim pretender not replacement.
Does Jason break Tim's staff?
Tragically, no. The bo staff snap would have been iconic. Instead he just takes Tim's staff and beats Tim up with it and breaks stuff. BUT!! He uses it to bust a statue in the TITANS MEMORIAL ROOM which is a place in Titans Tower just for having statues of dead previous titans and Jason is rightfully pissed he didn't get one. Like Tim is correct in saying no one forgot him still but like I would be hurt too if all my friends made cool statues of friends that died and then just left my zombie ass out, like wtf.
Note: I am seriously losing my shit that I have never seen someone bring up the memorial room in a fanfic. That is so much angst material. 😭
Tim crying/ being scared?
Hell no. He's a fucking Robin you know he's being a sassy boy the whole time, even towards the end when he's about done he's still saying he's her and I love Tim for that.
Note: There are a few different times where Tim does a flippy Robin move and then Jason just fucking copies it like flexing that he can do it too, and its just so petty and stupid he's trying so hard to be better than an actual child. 💀I get why in the context of the situation but its still so ridiculous.
Message on the wall in Tim's blood?
TBH I really don't know for sure on this one?? Like its implied that he did but Tim isn't bleeding all that much throughout this beatdown and like we don't see Jason do it just the Titans reacting to seeing it after. It could be Tim's blood, it could be red paint, and it could even be that Jason packed an actual bucket of blood to bring with him to write a message with after he finished. TBH the world is your oyster on this one.
Note: If anyone can find another comic where this event was brought up where they actually clarify it was Tim's blood hmu and I'll update this but I couldn't find any.
Pit rage/ glowing green eyes?
Fanon only at this point in the comics. Jason is seems to be himself and even thinks Tim and his friends are pretty cool at the end, and he's just like reflecting on if he had good friends if he would have turned out better as he leaves.
#tim drake#jason todd#red hood#robin dc#teen titans#comic panels#jason and tim#teen titans 2003#dc comics#panels are from teen titans (2003) issue 29#i would never tell anyone they have to read comics but i do think seeing the original scene of fanon favs is good#not because you need to follow them but because its good to know what you're taking inspo from#jason attacking tim at titans tower#LONG POST
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Marvel and the Street Kids
Billy likes helping people. Especially people who have, and are still going through something he’s also experienced. Hunger, brokeness, homelessness, if you’ve had to go through any of those things, Billy’s probably going to favor you more than most of the other people he’s saved. I mean, after all, he knows what all of that feels like. It’s why he helps out around soup kitchens a lot. It’s why he donates a hefty bit of his paycheck to homeless shelters and charities. It’s why he works to keep drugs off the streets, and crime at a low. He doesn’t want anyone, man, woman, or child to experience what he has. So, here’s a couple instances where he’s helping some homeless kids we know. (Btw this is the same AU as the Billy and the Robins post. In that post, basically Billy knew Dick and Jason when the two were both Robins) Roy: *in Speedy costume* “Hey Robin, who do you go to whenever you need advice?”
Robin!Jason: *in Robin costume* “Batman, why?”
Roy: “Right, cool. Cool, but what if you can’t ask him a certain question?”
Robin!Jason: “Oh, then I go to Marvel!”
Roy: “Marvel? Like Captain Marvel?”
Robin!Jason: “Yeah!”
Roy: “Huh. Uh… okay then.”
Robin!Jason: “Why do you ask?”
Roy: “No reason.”
Then, a little bit after Oliver kicked Roy out, Marvel was in Star City because Green Arrow needed him for whatever. As of now, Roy was walking down the street, upset because obviously. It’s been an about three days since he was kicked out by someone he considered his dad. All because he had a wee little problem with painkillers, and wee little problem with heroin. You’re supposed to help people who’re addicted. Especially if they’re family. You don’t just kick them out… right?
Roy: *walking down the sidewalk*
Marvel: *flying when he sees him*
Roy: *not paying attention*
Marvel: *flies down in front of him*
Roy: *bumps into Marvel* “Hey, watch where you’re goooo…wha…?” *slowly looks up until he’s craning his neck to look up at him*
Marvel: “Aren’t you GA’s boy?” *looks confused* “What’re you doing out this late?”
Roy: “What?”
Marvel: “Yeah! You’re uh…” *snaps fingers a couple times, thinking* “Speedy. Right?”
Roy: “Do I know you…?” *looks Marvel up in down*
Marvel: “Oh, my bad.” *holds hand out for handshake* “I’m Captain Marvel. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”
Roy: *doesn’t shake hand* “Well you already know me. I’m Speedy.” *shrugs*
They both talk. Marvel gets Roy to open up a bit after he gets the kid a hotdog. While they’re both sitting on a bench eating their respective hotdogs, (I saw the Marvel in civvies post and he’s wearing that exact fit. He magicked up the red sweater, the yellow hat, and the jeans so they could eat in peace) the archer remembers his conversation with Jason. So, he decides he might as well bite the bullet since his friend hyped up the guy so much.
Roy: “Hey… I gotta ask something.”
Marvel: “Hm?” *mid chew*
Roy: “You wouldn’t happen to know any good struggle meals, would you?”
Marvel: *finishes hotdog* “Yeah? I do. You wanna learn some?”
Roy: *hasn’t told Marvel about him being homeless now* “Yeah.” *takes bite of his hotdog*
Marvel: “Okie doki then.”
Roy: “You aren’t gonna ask why?”
Marvel: “It’s not really my place. Unless you want me to ask?”
Roy: “Nah, not really.” *finishes his hotdog*
Marvel: “Then I won’t.” *stands up* “Alright! To the nearest Chuck E. Cheese!” *points in a random direction*
Roy: *also stands up, raising a brow at him. Moves Marvel’s arm in the correct direction* “Why are we going to a Chuck E. Cheese?”
Marvel: “You’ll see. Cmon!” *starts jogging in the direction Roy corrected him to*
Roy: “Dude, wait up!”
When they’re now outside the Chuck E. Cheese…
Marvel: “Alright. So, here’s what you’re gon— Are you good?”
Roy: *out of breath because they just ran about three blocks* “Yeah… Yeah. I’m good. Just uh— gimme a sec.”
Marvel: *gives him until he feels better*
Roy: *looking better now* “So, what were you saying?”
Marvel: “Right, so what you’re gonna be doing is, see those tables?” *gestures to the booths through the Chuck E. Cheese’s windows. Some booths have leftover pizza and chicken wings in them*
Roy: *nods head*
Marvel: “Okay, great. So you’re gonna go steal all of that.”
Roy: *blinks at him before the most befuddled, bamboozled, puzzled expression crosses his face* “What?”
Marvel: “You’re going. To steal. All of that.” *gestures to the tables again*
Roy: *looks between Marvel and the tables* “Dude, I am not stealing scraps from the fucking Chuck E. Cheese tables.”
Marvel: “How else do you expect to get food then?”
Roy: “I don’t know! I expected you to teach me some cheap recipes or something stupid like that!”
Marvel: “Oooooooh, so you don't want struggle meals then.”
Roy: “No, I do. A struggle meal is something like a ketchup sandwich. This is way worse than a goddamn struggle meal.”
Marvel: “You and I clearly have different definitions of a struggle meal, but okay. Also, chill with the cursing, man. I can teach you something cheap if that’s what you actually want.”
Roy: “Okay then, thank you, because the day I need to steal scraps from a Chuck E. Cheese, is the day I lose my dignity.”
Marvel: “Yeah, yeah, come on. Let’s just go to a grocery store.”
Then, there was Cassandra Cain. She was homeless for about nine years before she went to Gotham when she was seventeen. During her homelessness, she never really stayed in one place. One of the places she ended up in was Fawcett when she was about sixteen. There, she met Captain Marvel. She man saved her from a mugging she was about to take care of herself.
Marvel: *staring at her because Solomon’s whispering about how she’s worthy*
Cassandra: *staring right back, picking up confusion in the man’s body language*
Marvel: “What’s your name, miss?”
Cassandra: *stares blankly at him* (Guys, this is before she learned most stuff. So she has no idea what he’s saying and has to go off of body language alone.)
Marvel: *stares back* “Can… You not speak?”
Cassandra: *continues to stare blankly*
Marvel: *sighs* “I’ll take that as a no.” *reaches into pocket dimension*
Cassandra: *startled when she sees half the man’s arm disappear*
Marvel: *pulls out some money and puts it in one of her hands* “Please take this. I can tell you don’t have a home. Starving isn’t fun.”
Cassandra: *sees understanding in Marvel’s body language and looks at the money in her hand then back at Marvel*
Marvel: *hovering off the ground* “Stay safe, miss.” *gives her a little wave before flying off*
Cassandra: *watches him go*
They meet more times after that, and soon, Cassandra ends up being one of the many homeless kids he checks up on. Cassandra comes to enjoy the man’s presence, and Marvel comes to enjoy hers as well. She eventually gets a really good read on the man after a while and he gets a good read on her. She even mimicked the man’s bodily expressions sometimes with a nod here, or a shrug there. Marvel even got to learn her name after she gestured to one of the other kids who had a cast on their leg. He guessed a couple times before he got her actual name. They ended up having to charade it, Beetlejuice style.
Marvel: “Cassie?”
Cassandra: *makes a so-so motion with her hand* (something she picked up from the man) *makes a motion that was supposed to convey it was longer*
Marvel: “Longer…?” *pauses to think for a solid 20 seconds* “Cassandra?”
Cassandra: *gives him a thumbs up* (another gesture learned from him)
Marvel: “Wait that’s actually your name?” *body language shows he’s happy he got it right*
Cassandra: *blankly stares* (Again guys, she has no clue what he’s saying)
Marvel: “Oh, this is awesome!” *body language shows he gets happier. He starts yapping about stuff*
Cassandra: *listens even though it’s all gibberish to her*
Cass liked that she could depend on someone. The man was… sunny. That’s the best way to put it. She liked listening to him talk. He never expected an answer or response. She liked that. She also liked that when she did try to respond, he was patient and did his best to try and understand her. Their friendship (sort of father daughter thing) continued until she was almost seventeen, and soon, things came to an end.
Marvel: “You’re leaving?” *body language shows concern*
Cassandra: *saw him look to the backpack stuffed with things for the trip to the next town. she nods her head*
Marvel: *body language shows disappointment for a moment before acceptance* “I see.” *gives her a warm smile* “It was nice knowing you, Cassandra.” *gives her same little wave he gave her when they first met* “I hope we get to meet again.”
Cassandra: *waves back unlike the first time they met and leaves*
They actually met again, unbeknownst to Marvel, when he was in Gotham to help Bruce with something. They got paired up together to go and do something for the mission.
Marvel: “You know, you remind me of this girl I knew from a while ago.”
Cassandra: *silence and a stare because she knows he’s talking about herself*
Marvel: “Yeah, she would’ve done that same blank stare too.”
Cassandra: *wondering how he knows she’s pulling the same face as herself*
Some goons decided to interrupt them before she could figure that out.
#billy batson#captain marvel dc#dc captain marvel#shazam#fawcett#fawcett city#fawcett comics#roy harper#speedy dc#cassandra cain#black bat#cassandra wayne#batgirl#orphan#batgirl 2000
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Hey there vivi, I think your work is cool <33 Wanted to ask what you thought of Ellie and girlfriend having IVF with both their genetics/eggs so they both have a biological child together. Know it’s not possible yet but im thinking about a Ellie with biological kid. Tmi but im ovulating so this is what im thinking ab rn. Not asking you to do a little blurb if you don’t want to, but wanted to know if you like the idea of Ellie and her kidd, ngl i think is interesting and adorable. Much love!
omg I fucking love this idea!!!! she would be so silly , I wrote some headcanons for this so hope you like it!!!!
ELLIE WILLIAMS HEADCANONS: YOU HAVE A BABY WITH HER (biologically)
okay let's say- distant future, lesbians can now have biological babies (yay technology!)
when you tell her that your pregnant girlie is gobsmacked, even though you two were actively trying. (aka raw dogging every night)
goes through a crisis, buys baby books, pregnancy books, looks into a ton of birth and labour options
shes prepared for everything, goes to Joel to find advice about taking care of a pregnant woman and what to do with a newborn
GRANDPA JOEL????
stop that would be the most adorable shit ever, him sitting on his porch, yours and Ellie's babe on his chest, giving you two a break
stopppp 😭😭😭😭
anyways getting off topic-
she's literally so much more a doting loser than she usually is (which is a feat in itself)
gets you all your cravings, chocolate? done. pickles? done. chocolate AND pickles together? fuck it she'll try some too.
loves decorating the nursery in your house
PAINTS A DINOSAUR AND/OR SPACE MURAL IN THE ROOM???
the nerd indoctrination is already happening.
her and Joel make loads of custom furniture, adjustable crib, rocking/nursing chair, changing station.
the nursery ends up looking so cute, with loads of earthy tones and greens but also an array of rainbow toys.
OMG THEY MAKE YOUR BABY A ROCKING HORSE??
shed be so supportive during labour
whatever birth method you choose shes so supportive, makes you a little emergency bag just in case you go into labour
loves skin to skin
after the birth, you're exhausted of course, so you're sleeping and she's alone with a newborn baby???
honestly thinks that the baby looks a little funky
when babies come out they're squished, red and all silly looking
they're cute of course!!! but Ellie is still hoping your babe grows out of the squished tomato, potato phase?
skin to skin is her favorite thing
having the baby laid on her chest is genuinely the sweetest thing ever
she 100% cries when your baby grows out of their first onesie
she's so sentimental, keeps everything your kid does or has
old dummies (pacifiers if you're American), baby toys that the kid doesn't play with anymore, the umbilical cord? it's in a ziplock bag somewhere.
wears the baby in those baby back pack things (I can't remember the name LMAO)
when the baby starts teething she's always making jokes about how you've given birth to a feral baby.
jokingly scolds the baby when they start biting when you breastfeed them
dresses the kid up in the funnies outfits
the baby's dresser is basically a fancy dress box by now. dinosaur costumes, teddy bear costumes, pirate costume?
literally everything
---------------
I now have baby fever. kms.
not proofread
she's the best mum especially with a newborn
#lesbian#wlw#lesbian fic#fluff#ellie the last of us#ellie williams fic#ellie williams hcs#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams x reader#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams#ellie x pregnant!reader#ellie williams x pregnant!reader#the last of us part 2#the last of us fic#the last of us#tlou headcanons#tlou 2#tlou fic
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“HEY EMO BOY!”
Headcanon’s/Story
F!Reader x HotTopicWorker!Choso
WARNINGS - MDNI: F! fingering, squirting, afab reader, pinv (unprotected), creampie, perv choso, rough sex, dom!Choso, public sex (f! receiving), fluff, happy ending. PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED ANY!!
Note: THOUHT I MIGHT TRY SOMETHING NEWWW..I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS AND PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU WANT MOREE! (Why was this easier to do than a SMAU for me 😐) oh and also this is my first time writing stuff like this so please give me some feedback!
♪───O(≧∇≦)O────♪
HotTopicWorker!Choso who thought that you were drop dead gorgeous as you asked him where the MCR shirts were as he was restocking inventory, even tho they had a big MCR section right in front … but he didn’t mind helping you!
HotTopicWorker!Choso who chuckled to himself at your comment on his Green Day shirt, saying that you thought it was an awesome band, thinking you were cute for messing up your words trying to compliment him.
HotTopicWorker!Choso who feels sad and lonely when you leave the store after he helped you, helping out other customers, none with the same effect as you had on him, hoping by some luck he sees you again
HotTopicWorker!Choso who was overly joyed when he saw your beautiful face walk into the store a week later, seeing that you were wearing the MCR shirt he helped you pick out made his heart flutter
HotTopicWorker!Choso who was happy when you remembered him, starting to make small talk with him about your week as he tries to listen to you but is to distracted by your lips and the way they move when you talk
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is speechless when you give him your phone number and name before you leave the store, making his heart flutter even more, making sure he puts your number in his phone and texts you right away
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is getting ready for bed as you texted him back when he was brushing his teeth, ending up pulling a all nighter texting you about randomness, forgetting that he has to get up and work tomorrow but it’s all worth it when you ask him to hangout outside the mall after his shift this weekend
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is finishing up his shift at hot topic as he sees you walk in, looking even more beautiful then ever just for him and yours walk in the park “hangout”, not knowing how a loser like him could have gotten a date with someone so beautiful as yourself
HotTopicWorker!Choso who’s palms get really sweaty when you guy are holding hands while walking in the park together, being extremely nervous, but all the nervous thoughts go away once you point out a cafe you wanted to go into with him
HotTopicWorker!Choso who’s face goes red as a tomato when you kiss him at the end of your guys date, your lips being so soft against his rough, eaten up ones, even after you pulled away he could still taste you in his mouth, waiting more but to afraid to ask
HotTopicWorker!Choso who doesn’t care if its perverted if he fucks his fist late at night to the memory of your lips on his, thinking about what they would feel wrapped around his loser cock, finishing in his fist as he texts you with one hand if you wanted to come to work with him tomorrow
HotTopicWorker!Choso who as soon as you sent him a text back saying “Sure why not?” with a little smiley face at the end, he was already thinking about all the possible ways he could make you cum in the break room
HotTopicWorker!Choso who had a big smile on his face as he let you walk into the mall next to him, early enough for him to get the store set up, letting you sit around the store as he worked his shift until his break time came up
HotTopicWorker!Choso who had you pinned against the wall, in the middle of a heated make out session, his pants getting impossibly tighter in his back skinny jeans as you begin to touch all over his body with your soft fingertips
HotTopicWorker!Choso who only has 15 minutes left of his break time but bets he can make you cum in 5, he say as he begins to finger you roughly, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as you moan in pleasure, telling him to not stop
HotTopicWorker!Choso who if he wants to win this bet only has 3 minutes left, he starts to finger you faster, not wanting to be called a loser as he already as been called many times before, not waiting to hear it from you, he feels you clench around him, your gummy walls sucking up his fingers, making his dick twitch in his pants
HotTopicWorker!Choso who has you squirting around his fingers with 1 minute to spare, meaning he won but he still has 11 minutes left of his break, deciding to lick your slick clean off his fingers and he starts undoing his belt
HotTopicWorker!Choso who knows he has a big cock and loves seeing you whine when he starts thrusting himself slowly in from the behind, you saying a mix of “oh my god choso!” And “F-fuck choso you’re so big..” making him wanna fuck you even faster
HotTopicWorker!Choso who starts thrusting faster inside of you, loving the way your moans and whimpers sound like when your close, thinking they are probably the best sounds he’s ever heard and that’s a lot coming from a hot topic employee that loves listening to different kinds of music
HotTopicWorker!Choso who has you cumming around his cock in no time, your gummy walls squeezing him for all he’s worth, he ends up cumming inside you with a loud grunt, apologizing shortly after he did so without a condom saying that you were making it hard for him not to
HotTopicWorker!Choso who cleans you up with 2 minutes left of his break and makes sure you’re okay before he goes back to working, apologizing that he couldn’t do proper aftercare in his time crunch, hoping you didn’t believe he was a terrible person
HotTopicWorker!Choso whose shift is ending in a few short minutes, seeing you walk out of the break room, dressed in some random clothes you found in the back, him still thinking you look as beautiful as ever
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is over joyed when you ask him nervously to be your boyfriend on a random date you guys went on and who is he to say no? Of course he said yes! He loved you so much, no words could ever describe it
HotTopicWorker!Choso who is happy with his life with you, he ends up getting you a job at Hot Topic together! And oh boy is he glad that a few months ago you asked where the MCR section was even though it was right there when you walked in, Now thinking maybe you did it on purpose
I really hope this doesn’t flop 😖🙏
#jjk#jjk fluff#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso smut#jjk choso#choso my beloved#choso x y/n#choso x you#emo boy Choso#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk headcanons#jjk drabbles#headcanon#choso headcanons#smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#choso fluff#happy ending#fluff#jujutsu kaisen#hot topic#hot topic worker Choso#my beloved
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Boyfriend - matt sturniolo
creepy guy at a bar, matt pretends to be your boyfriend and flirting ensues
“Vodka cran for me and a whiskey sour for my friend,” I tell the bartender, looking around for said friend. My best friend and roommate was invited to this event tonight through her work, so of course I came along with her, but now she’s nowhere to be found. I pull out my phone not only to text her, but also so I can look occupied so nobody comes up to me.
wya
bathroom brb
I put my phone in my pocket as the bartender slides me the drinks and a check. I shoot him a quick smile, pay the tab, and pass it back to him. I grabbed the drinks and turned around, wanting to find a table where I can wait for her to return to me, but instead I’m met with a tall blonde guy smirking right down at me. He’s muscular, has piercing green eyes, and has to be at least 6’3. He towers over me, and I’m immediately intimated and slightly annoyed as I really had no intentions of talking to men tonight.
“Hey,” he smiles. “I’m Ben. I saw you from over there and wanted to introduce myself.”
“Uh huh…” I nod. I’m usually a very friendly person, but this has not been my week and I wanted nothing more than to not be talking to this man. “Well, nice to meet you Ben, but I really gotta get back to my friend.” I begin to shift to the left so I can make my way around him, but he moves to block me. I stare up at him, silently begging him to move.
“What, you can’t even give me a minute? Come on, just tell me your name,” he insists.
I sigh. “I’m good, thanks for asking though!” I soon realize that playing the sarcastic card was a mistake, as he starts to lean in, his arm blocking me from moving anywhere.
He’s about to open his mouth when I feel someone come up behind me and put his hand on my arm. I turn my head and am met with another guy who is basically the polar opposite of the man in front of me: brunette, blue eyes, fairly skinny, and probably about 5’8. Despite me saying I didn’t want to talk to men tonight, whoever this mystery man is is exactly my type. I couldn’t help but stare not only because he’s hot as fuck, but because I definitely recognize him from somewhere.
“Hey baby, sorry the line for the bathroom was crazy,” he says. “Who’s this?”
I pause for a moment, not realizing at first what was happening. “Um… sorry, what was your name again?” I ask the blonde.
“Ben,” he says, clearly pissed off that I didn’t remember. “And who’s this?” He gestures toward the brunette.
“I’m her boyfriend,” he gives him a big smile. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her but I got it from here.”
“You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend,” Ben says pointedly.
“Well when you’re busy trying to corner her it gets a little caught in your throat,” the brunette shoots back. “You’re done, thank you, bye bye now!”
Ben rolls his eyes and finally walks away in defeat. The brunette turns to me, his hand still on my arm. Now that I’m actually looking at him, I see that he is one of the most attractive people I think I’ve ever seen in my life.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, thank you,” I nod.
“Sorry if that was weird, you just looked really uncomfortable,” he says. “I was hoping that wasn’t actually a boyfriend because that would have made things worse…”
“No, no, I don’t. Um, I really appreciate that.”
He does a quick scan of the bar to make sure Ben wasn’t looking, then puts his hand out. “I’m Matt.”
I tell him my name and we begin to make small talk. When there’s a lull in the conversation, my curiosity gets the best of me.
“You know, I recognize you from somewhere, I feel like TikTok or something…”
“Oh yeah, my brothers and I are YouTubers.”
It all clicks in my head. “Oh right! Yeah, I think one of my friends showed me a video one time. And I definitely remember thinking, that guy in the driver��s seat is hot,” I smirk at him.
His cheeks get bright red, but he tries to play it cool. “Ohhh really? Or are you just saying that to flatter me?”
“No, no, definitely not, but if it’s working then…”
“Oh, it’s working.”
I smile. “I’ll have to check out some more of your videos so I can see more of you.”
“You could… or we could just hang out and you could see more of me in person.”
My heart nearly falls into my ass at that. I have never been great at flirting, but the conversation is just coming so easy with this guy that I can’t help myself. “Hmmm… I think I like that idea.”
“Good,” he smiles while pulling out his phone. “Give me your number and I’ll text you later.”
Once I give it to him and he slides his phone back into his pocket, he leans against the pillar behind him and crosses his arms. “It’s crazy how I was just telling my brother how lame this event is. Not so much anymore.”
“I was just telling my roommate the exact same thing. I’m glad I stayed.”
He pushes off the pillar and stands up straight again, closer towards me. “The attendees usually aren’t this pretty.”
Now it’s my turn to blush. “Ohhhh you think I’m prettyyyy?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t already know.” He pauses for a second, then opens his mouth. “Let me buy you dinner tomorrow.” Before I get a chance to respond, his eyes get wide. “Uh oh, your boyfriend’s looking. How do we make it believable that I’m with you?”
I don’t know where all my confidence is coming from right now. Something about him is making me a completely different person. I sit in one of the bar stools so I reach his height more then wrap my arms around his neck. “Like this?” I ask innocently.
He’s clearly at a loss for words for a moment, then he regains his composure. “Yeah, no, uh… yeah, this works.” I start to play with his hair on the back of his neck to try to fluster him even more. “So,” he says, trying to play off the fact that he is staring straight at my cleavage, “where do you live? So I know where to pick you up tomorrow night?”
“We’re by The Grove, not too far from here. I’ll text you the full address,” I tell him.
“Oh perfect. We live right by here too, how convenient. Then I can see my girlfriend whenever,” he teases.
I nod in agreement. “Is he still looking?” I ask, referring to Ben.
He shrugs. “Don’t care. If I bothered looking at him then I wouldn’t get to look at you, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
I tilt my head and smile. “No, we definitely wouldn’t want that.”
He leans even closer, putting both his hands on the bar behind me. “So as my girlfriend,” he says, “I would assume you have a favorite tattoo of mine, right?” He put his arm out and rolled up his sleeve. “Which one would that be?”
I try to keep my composure as I look at the tattoos covering his arm. His forearms and hands are ridiculously veiny and I’m trying to keep the disgusting – but hot – thoughts running through my head at bay. “I like this one,” I say, tracing an anchor he has near his wrist. “Orrrr… this one.” My fingers run over one on his bicep, an owl with his wing covering a skull. He’s already insanely attractive, but his tattoos are making me legitimately sick to my stomach.
“Do you have any?” he asks.
“Yeah, I got a few.” I show him the ones on my arm. “I have one on my rib too, but you’ll have to see that one another time.” I look up at him through my eyelashes and smile sweetly.
He smirks. “Oh will I?”
“Mhm.”
“I have one on my chest,” he says, taking my hand and placing it on the left side of his chest.
“Am I gonna see that one too?” I ask.
“Yeah, I don’t have one there,” he says dryly. “Just wanted an excuse to have your hands on me.”
My jaw drops a little as I slide my hand up his chest slowly until it’s back on his neck. Our faces are inches apart. “Do you think it looks believable that we’re together?” he asks.
“I think so,” I shrug. “It could always look more believable, but I don’t know your thoughts on PDA, so…”
His face is moving closer. “Where are you going with that?”
“Where do you think I’m going with it?”
He responds by giving me a soft kiss on my cheek. “That’s all you get for now.”
I pout in response, then move back and place my elbows on the bar behind me. My chest is a straight shot from his face, and I can tell he’s having a hard time focusing. “So where should we get dinner?” I ask.
“Um… we can go to… um…”
“I’ve never been to um, what do they have there?” I mock.
“Shut up,” he lets out a little laugh. “Let’s go somewhere higher end so I can treat you.”
“Ohhh, you got the big YouTube bucks, huh?”
He shrugs. “Gotta stay humble. I’ll treat you on a few different dates and we can find out just how much YouTube can pay for.”
“That sounds good,” I run my hand lightly through the curls on his neck as I give him the world’s nastiest fuck me eyes.
He steps between my legs. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Why? I can’t look at my boyfriend like this?”
“Not with this many people around, no. Alone, though… well, we’re gonna be doing a lot more when we’re alone.”
I’m melting into a puddle in my seat. There’s no way this is happening. “I’m looking forward to it,” I reply, not breaking eye contact.
“I’ve gotta get back to my brothers,” he says in a near whisper. “I’ll text you, okay?”
I nod as he kisses my cheek one last time before he winks at me and walks away.
---------------------------------------------
pt 2 coming soon (probably)
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo
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i can imagine izuku still being a virgin and getting so pussydrunk because it's his first time
𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘
Pairings: Virgin! Sub! Top! Pro-Hero! Izuku x Experienced! Dom! Bottom! AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Alcohol use, heavy overstimulation, vaginal penetration, biting, hickeys, creampie, crying, begging, nicknames,, multiple rounds
A/N: Guys Im going to be honest. This is lowkey mostly plot heavy and not too much smut. Im sorry anon I should have made it short and smutty, but I just had this idea and one thing lead to another... I will make short smut stuff!!!!!
Izuku was desperate to have sex. He may be doing fantastic career-wise, but his life in the sheets was dry. So unbelievably dry. He was so pent up, so frustrated, he needed it so badly. Every night he has to get himself off, and by god, he wanted more.
He met you a couple of weeks ago, and you have clouded his mind ever since. He doesn't even know your name. All he knows is you were wearing a red dress, and you kissed him so hard he couldn't breathe. Pressed your knee on his clothed cock, and just like nothing happened, disappeared.
He was drunk. The both of you were. He remembers the smell of alcohol on your breath, how flushed you look. He was probably no better, the fact that this happened at all means he had to be wasted. He barely has the confidence to talk to girls.
It happened at some sort of party that only celebrities or the rich attend, but with all the Google searches in the world, he couldn't find you. His search history was embarrassing.
But even so, he fantasized about you. The purr of your voice, the soft hands that ran over his muscular body, the way you said, “Such a pretty boy in front of me, you must have all the ladies in the palm of your hand, hmm?” while pressing your lips, coating with red lipstick, onto his neck.
He couldn't get you out of his head. He attended every single party, but alas he could never find you. He would end up at home, alone, touching himself.
Until he found you again, two months later. At another party.
He spills the champagne in his hands, when he sees you, eyes wide, before stumbling up and over to you. You are at a table by yourself, sipping on some sort of cocktail. You were in a dark blue tight dress today, and instead of that red lipstick that stained his neck, you were wearing clear lip gloss.
He awkwardly, and hesitantly taps your shoulder, and flushes when you turn around. The thoughts of that night come flooding back to him, and he has to look away so he doesn't get a hard-on.
“Oh! Deku, I didn't know you were here.” You say with a bright smile and he blinks at you. He just cannot stop thinking about the fact that this is the face he gets off to daily. The way you look now is so different than last time. You look so innocent, grinning so widely, it's nothing like the flushed, domineering persona you had that night.
Either way, it's still you and he gulps. “Hey! Yeah…I was invited.”
You smile into your glass cup. “I would hope so.”
He blushes. Such a stupid thing to say. Of course, he was invited and you were too, what was he even talking about? “So..What's your name?”
You hold out a hand and grin. “Y/N.”
He takes it and gently shakes it, trying to hold back his nervous shaking. “It's nice to me you, Im–”
“Deku?” You prompt with a tilt of your head.
He falters, “Uh yeah! But I was going to say, Izuku” He trails off and you laugh.
“Sorry. Got ahead of myself! It's nice to meet you Izuku.” And suddenly your facial features flip. That smirk is back. He loves it. “Your tie is all messed up, mind if I fix it?” He blushes but nods. You grin and grab onto the green tie, and he goes needle straight. “Yknow. You look awfully familiar, Izuku.” You say in a lone tone, that makes the blood flow straight to his cock.
He splutters, “You, you think so?” You drop the tie and hum. Your mouth opens, beginning another probably teasing remark when a call of your name cuts you off. A female voice, he takes specific note of.
You turn to him and smile. “Well, that's my cue. I'll see you around, pretty boy.”
He stands there staring at the space you just preoccupied with a blank face. And then it hits him. Pretty boy. That’s what you called him that night. You remember. You had to. He turns around quickly and says, “Wait!” but you are already gone. Hidden by the crowd of dancing and drinking rich idiots.
He eyes the cocktail you left, sighs, and finishes it off. He has gotta get some liquid courage in him if he wanted to be bold enough to deal with you.
He searched the party all night, but alas he couldn't find you. He almost began to give up hope, when suddenly he saw you. Alone, once again, and on the balcony. He sets his drink down and uses the silver reflection of his plate as a mirror to quickly brush through his hair. He sighs and then as calmly as he could so nobody would say anything, walks to the balcony.
When you hear the footsteps, you turn around, and when you see who exactly it is, you grin. He laughs nervously. “Woah, funny seeing you here, Y/N.”
You raise your eyebrow and turn to lean your back on the balcony ledge. “Oh don't give me that, I saw you looking for me all night like a lost puppy.” You throw your head back in a laugh and his ever-returning blush is back.
“Y-You knew? But, why didn't you…” He trails off when you step closer to him. Now you were less than a foot away, grinning up at him, he could almost feel your breasts press against him. He gulps and looks away, hoping to fight his arousal. He could smell the traces of alcohol.
You grab his face to make him look at you, and you lean forward like you are going to kiss him, and then pause, centimeters away. “Izuku, what do you want from me?”
“Everything.” He whispers eyes half-lidded as he stares at your lips.
You smile. “Good answer.” And then press his lips to his. He groans, low and softly, but leans into the kiss. He grabs your waist and presses you against him, and you pull away when you feel his hard cock. “Where should we go?” You prompt, basically inviting him to ask you to his place.
But, much to your dismay, he doesn't get it. “Bathroom,” He says, thinking back to that one night, and then leans forward for another kiss.
You pull away, eyebrows furrowed in disgust. His eyes widen when he feels your warmth disappear. “Bathroom, really? You–You are just like all the others. I thought after the whole romantic balcony scene you would at least have the decency to ask me to your place.” You turn around to head back inside.
He stumbles forward, and grabs your wrist, eyes pleading. “Wait! I'm sorry! I'm nervous, please come over! I've never done this before, I promise I'm not like the others,” He basically begs and this time your eyes widen.
“Oh my. Don't tell me, the number one pro hero, is a virgin?” He looks away and goes silent. You throw your head back in laugh at the confirmation, and he pouts. Then, you grab onto the green tie and pull him forward, he stumbles in front of you, the blush returning. “I'm going to have so much fun with you, pretty boy.”
Tonight was the best night ever, Izuku decides when his head is thrown back, mouth open, as you sink onto his cock. How could he be missing this all of his years? It was so much better than the fantasy. So much better.
“Oh god,” He groans, hands coming to your hips instinctually. You begin to steady your movements, sitting on your knees in his lap.
“How does it feel? After all this time, you finally lost your virginity,” You say with a grin, hand running down to trace his chest. He nods, a drunken smile pulling at his face.
He gazes down at your sexes and moans. “Feels good. Warm, mhmm so warm.” His voice cracks, “and tight. So much b-better than my hand.”
You laugh, but it comes out in broken pants, so you lean forward to kiss him. He pulls away quickly, eyes wide and panicked. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I'm going to cum. No, no, it's too earlier. I can't” He shakes his head and clutches at the sheets beneath him, trying desperately to hold it back, as you continue to ride him.
You shake your head with an adoring gaze. “’s alright. We will just have to go again. And again and again, until you are all fucked out, hmm?”
He stares at you with hearts in his eyes, nodding rapidly. “Yes. Yes, please, please. Fuck. Cumming. I’m cuming!” And just like he said, he released his load in you and rolls his eyes back. Small gasps and a silent moan tumble down from his lips, and his hand shakes as he grips onto your hips.
You coax him through it with a smile, running your fingers through his unruly hair. When he comes down from his high he stares at you with a lazy grin, and the next thing you know you are being flipped over.
Your eyes widen as you feel Izuku start to move in and out again. It was surprising, he had just come down from his orgasm. Wasn't he being overstimulated? His pathetic whine answered your question. “Iz-Izuku, do you want to take a break?” You sigh when he begins to pick up the ruthless pace again.
He leans his head into your neck and shakes his head rapidly. His voice comes out in a pitchy whine, “But you said!” He grips the pillow next to your head and whimpers into your neck, feeling the pain of his spent cock being overworked.
“We can go again after you recover.” You gasp and clutch onto his back, sending nail marks down it. He groans. “So it won't hurt you.”
He shakes his head again and you can feel the drip of the tears falling onto your neck. He was trembling. “No. Please don't make me stop. ‘m good. So good. Feels so so good.”
You grin, maybe a little sadistically as you watch him begin to crumble. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer. He moans, high pitched, and loud. He presses his lips to your neck, sucking and marking any area he can lay his mouth on. You crane your neck to allow his urges. “I love it. I love it.” He half murmurs half whines in between kisses.
“Hmm?” You respond, not trusting yourself to speak while he begins to pick up the pace. One hand grips onto his hair and the other continues to scratch his back.
“Your pussy. S-So warm and tight. ’s like it was made for me.” He gasps and you laugh, to the best of your ability.
You pull him back by the mop on his head and he whines, eyes shut, as his head tilts backward. “What happened to my bashful virgin? You're so lewd now.” His hips pick up the pace.
He tries to the best of his ability to shake his head but ultimately fails under your grip. “But I love it! I do!” You laugh at the ridiculous response and let go of his hair. He collapses back and immediately buries his face into your neck again. “Im going to cum again. Can I cum? Please, please.”
“So quick. Still have a virgin body. Alright. For me, yeah?”
He nods a little embarrassed, and he feels his muscles begin to contract. He bites down on your shoulder and you hiss, but he ignores it, riding his second orgasm through. It's stronger and harder than the first and he screams into your skin, tears falling copiously down his round, flushed cheeks.
He peers down and widens his eyes when he sees his cum begin to leak out of your pussy. He gulps, feeling himself get hard once again, and flips you over immediately. “More. More. Please, just one more. One more time.” He lays completely on top of you and interjoins his fingers with yours.
He uses his arm to lift your hips up so that it was easier to fuck. It makes you raise your eyebrows. He must have watched a lot of porn to know that trick.
“What if I say no?” You tease and he releases an unsteady whine. His eyes are blurry from the tears.
“Please don't say no. Please, I love it. I love it so much. Please, Y/N!” He begs, dropping his head on the pillow next to your face.
“So needy.”
“P-Please.” He whimpers, in a voice so low you could barely hear and you grin.
“Alright. Go ahead.” You could barely finish your statement when all of a sudden he is pounding into you again, mumbling stuff like “Thank you. Thank you.” and “Good. So good.”
You know it hurts him. It has too, overstimulation is no joke. But the way he continues, eyes watery and hips frantic shows just how desperate he is. How obsessed he is with it. The pain didn't even matter to him, the thought of driving his cock into you spurred him on.
He wanted more. You opened his eyes, and once uncovering the truth, he could never get enough of it.
Fucking Izuku may not have been a good idea. In an instant, you turned this poor, cute virgin, into a pussy-starved man. But alas, he seems to only seek it from one particular person, so it may not be all that bad.
He came five times that night and you twice. He asked to go again, but you had to stop him when you took a peak at his fuming red cock, tear-stained cheeks, and trembling body. He doesn't seem to know when to stop.
You left early that morning, legs wobbly and body completely spent. He slept in, his body seeming to be more exhausted than yours.
When he woke up, his body sticky from sweat, his hair messy and body was sore, the first thing he took notice was the sticky note stuck onto his forehead.
Messy, cursive handwriting spelled out, I’ll be waiting for my lost puppy to come crawling back to me again. Xoxo, Y/N
He fell back onto the pillow with a groan. Not even a phone number. You were so cruel.
So, he does what any good puppy does. He attends every party for the next three weeks until he finds you again.
#mha smut#dom! reader#smut#x reader#sub midoriya#sub!character#sub izuku#sub deku#sub izuku x reader#izuku midoryia smut#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku mydoria#izuku smut#deku smut#sub! deku#sub! mha#izuku midoriya fanfic#bnha fanfiction#mha fanfiction
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OBLIVION | YANDERE CROWN PRINCE X M!READER
prompt: very lazy (oblivious) reader x yandere crown prince who basically does everything for him. reader is clueless about his friends disappearing around him, historical setting where MC is a pampered son of a noble family
character(s): yandere crown prince, lazy!reader
warnings(s): mild violence, yandere themes. still considered rather fluffy and sfw
note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, as far as this goes this guy is too green to be really called a yandere lol. his possessive and violence tendencies are not to be glorified regardless, loose use of magic, not beta read
Your biggest enemy is hard work, and your favorite hobby is sleeping. You can’t help it—you are spoiled, no doubt about that, and because you got lucky enough to be born into a prestigious family who dotes on you. Your social life is almost non-existent, but ever since you were young, your friend has stuck next to you.
Your friend, who happens to be a crown prince.
People say he’s scary. You doubt that highly—is His Highness Cassian not the one who has brought you sweet treats from young? Is he not the one who littered your skin with tiny kisses because he likes showing affection? Is he not the one who allows you to laze around or nap? Rumors tend to be untrue, and you feel almost sorry towards the prince for having to deal with that.
(“I heard that if you mess with him, His Highness has the ability to kill! Haven’t you heard the disappearances lately?”)
You asked the crown prince questions regarding the rumors. All you got was a surprised, flippant reply: kill? That’s ridiculous, [Name]. I haven’t even mastered my mana skills yet.
So you don’t trust the rumors. It makes sense for people to be jealous, after all: he’s the crown prince. He has objectively good looks, and he’s an amalgamation of everything someone would covet: wealth, prestige, brilliance, and skill.
“You slept in class again?” A voice tears you out of your thoughts. You’re lounging on the bench in the school garden, and your legs are propped up on the sides. Your bag is thrown loosely to the ground. Inwardly you wish you had the physical capability to be agile enough to scale up a tree—because god, the place up there looked amazing—but unfortunately, you didn’t.
You face him. Cassia raises an eyebrow, and his fingers reach out gingerly to touch your cheek gently. You don’t recoil. It’s become normal.
“I can see words imprinted on your face. How long did you sleep? Or rather, how long was your class?”
It takes a few moments for you to process the prince’s words, before you squint your eyes. There’s a red smear on his cheek that seems hastily wiped off. It’s not too obvious, not to others, anyways, but you’re so used to Cassian's face looking normal that you immediately notice it.
“What’s that red thing on your face?” You ignore the question. You know that he can guess the answer.
“…Red thing?” Cassian immediately narrows his eyes, pausing. His fingers leave your face and go to his own. It looks like blood; which is odd, and definitely not possible.
“Is that…” you mull it over for a second. It can’t be blood. Or lipstick.
Cassian, though having received multiple marriage proposals, didn’t seem to be settling down any time soon.
Strange, it doesn’t even seem like he likes women. So the only plausible thing is—
“—were you drinking tomato soup earlier?”
Cassian blinks his eyes, before a look of realization dawns on his face. And if you see correctly, there’s almost the tiniest hint of relief. Cassian’s lips tug up into a smile—he laughs, the prince laughs, the sound bright and mirthful and irrevocably fond. Your parents have teased you once about the prince nursing a crush on you. But this is how he has treated you for as long as you can remember.
“Tomato?”
“Looks like a tomato,” You furrow your eyebrows. “Hey, do they serve tomato soup in the academy? I really want tomato soup. It’s easy to drink, and…”
“I’ll get you some later,” Cassian says affectionately. He ruffles your hair, and you relax. “Don’t worry too much, alright?”
You shrug loosely. “Alright.”
.
.
[ before ]
He stares at the dead body on the ground. There aren’t a lot of rumors of you, but your laziness is well known. Some see it fondly, almost endearingly, but there are the rare few who view you with disdain because of your apparent lack of diligence.
Caspian doesn’t like that. He’s fine with rumors of his own—but of you? But of sweet, innocent, lovely you? He loathes it.
“Stop talking,” he smiles. “…You can do that, can’t you? After all, you’re already dead.”
A head lolls about and blood drips off a blade.
What, Cassian thinks with that sweet softness he has reserved for you, smiling gently, should I get for [Name] today?
shitpost since i had this lying around. lowkey cringe
#male reader#yanderexmale#yandere x male reader#yandere x male darling#possessive#yandere#yandere male#soft yandere#tw yandere#eroswrites
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perfect palette | jjk
vegas isn’t your first choice, but you love your best friend and are willing to do anything for her, including planning her bachelorette party. everything is all set, ready to go for the last day, until you receive a text from the model you’ve hired. he’s out sick but have no fear, he’s sent the next best thing to replace him for the night.
✨ title: perfect palette
✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader (nicknamed Ro)
✨ genre/au: slice of life, light angst | model!jk, las vegas!au
✨ rating: m/18+ | ✨ word count: 7.5k
✨ warnings: language, drinking, mild nudity, jungkook + reader are tipsy, kissing, reader is nicknamed Ro but is only called by her name a handful of times.
✨ a/n: hi again! so this idea came to me when i was in vegas lmao, and the painting idea is from 'this is us' (the show). i just thought it was a fun premise. i hope you enjoy it.
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
Your head is pounding, and your stomach is growling. As you pop your head up, you notice the hotel room is a complete mess: furniture has been knocked over, empty tequila and champagne bottles litter the room, and clothes and money are scattered across the floor.
A low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover up with the duvet. You definitely don’t remember sleeping with someone. Your mind races, attempting to recall last night’s shenanigans.
Whoever is next to you mumbles under their breath and turns over on their stomach. The silver chain that’s adorning their neck glimmers from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. You can’t help but notice their broad chiseled back and the markings on it. No, they’re not scratches from nails—they’re purple lines, going from one beauty mark to the next, and each mark is surrounded by a pair of red lips. Turning your hand over, you see it’s stained with purple, matching the color on their back.
What the fuck happened last night, you think.
You lean over, peering at the mysterious person. A scalloped tattoo delicately covers their shoulder and the rest of their arm is covered in ink. You giggle when you discover the tattoos are colored an array of hues—blue, red, green, and orange. It looks almost like a child was told to have fun and went wild with coloring.
The person groans again, switching to lay on their back side. You pull back, holding the duvet up to your chin. A small gasp comes out when you recognize the mystery person—it’s Jeon Jungkook, your old college buddy. Five years have passed since you last saw him at graduation. Last you heard, he was in Los Angeles, taking a jab at modeling and acting. Well, with his perfect face and body (your eyes quickly scanned over him), who would say no to him?
The real question now was, how did he end up in Vegas, and specifically in your hotel room?
—
The day before.
“Ro, cheer up please. We’re in Vegas, not a funeral,” Lottie says, swiping on a pink lip stain. “You’re only gonna feel like shit if you keep scrolling through those photos.”
Lottie’s right because looking through your ex-college sweetheart’s wedding photos is not doing anything for you. Four years of committing to a man who said he never wanted to get married, but there he was with a ring on his finger.
Your phone is swiped from your hand. “Hey!” you protest, standing to snatch it back. “Give it to me!”
“No! I will not let my maid-of-honor mope around like a sad puppy. Forget Jimin! He’s a married man now and a Libra—an October Libra too, I might add. That should’ve been a red flag right off the bat!”
She’s been your work wife for the past three years, and the two of you bonded over talking shit about your boss and colleagues. The only anecdotes she knew of Jimin were the ones you spilled on drunken nights.
“Lottie, give me my phone. I have to make sure everything is ready for tonight. It has to be perfect,” you explain, holding out your hand, insisting she gives it to you. But it was an excuse to keep lurking.
The itinerary for today consisted of: brunch, pool and cocktails, dinner at Hell’s Kitchen, then a night of painting–naked painting you should add. As if the Magic Mike show wasn't enough skin for Lottie and the rest of the crew. You somehow stumbled upon a small business, ‘Perfect Palette’ combining models and painting into one. This would be the next closest thing to being with a fully naked man. It's been a hot minute since you've seen one.
The bride-to-be reluctantly hands over the phone and you're scrolling through emails, switching apps to confirm everything.
“Take a chill pill, babe. Everything doesn't have to be perfect, but I am excited about painting tonight!” Lottie smiles and claps, then leans over to give you a hug. “Okay! Time to get ready for brunch.” She runs off to the restroom. “And no more pining over Jimin, please!” She yells back.
It's hard not to look through the photos of your ex-boyfriend because it was supposed to be you, not the woman he's kissing and holding. If only you could go back to graduation and fix things between you and Jimin…maybe life would've turned out differently for you.
As you open up Instagram (your burner account, obviously), you see a new post of him and his wife on a plane with the caption, “Can't wait to honeymoon in Bali.”
Bali was your dream honeymoon location.
With a heavy sigh, flinging yourself onto the bed, you turn off your phone. Lottie’s always right—this is depressing.
A ding goes off and you're hoping it's just one of the girls confirming the schedule for today. Grabbing your phone, you hold it above you, the screen illuminating your face.
The notification reads:
Namjoon 8:30 AM
Hey. I came down with the stomach bug so I can't make it tonight, but don't worry, I'm sending the next best thing to replace me. I promise the bride and your girls will love him. He's a newbie but he's just as beefy if not more than me. Have fun tonight.
You turn the phone over and rub your hand over your face. Great, just my luck, you think.
Well, whoever this person is, you hope he’s worth what you’re paying for.
–
The Primrose restaurant is the perfect spot to finish off a weekend in Vegas. It’s bustling with groups similar to yours—probably other brides and bridesmaids celebrating a last hoorah before committing yourself to one person for the rest of your life. At this point it seems silly, doesn’t it? Being with someone, choosing them on a daily basis, loving them for all their faults, but who are you kidding? You’re a hopeless romantic now waiting for your charming prince.
Gwen and Ivy sit across from you and Lottie, whispering and pointing to their phone like two high school girls. You don’t doubt they’re plotting something. You just hope it doesn’t involve more naked men, minus the one you’ll see tonight. There are only so many ripped abs you can take.
“What are you two whispering about?” Lottie asks while narrowing her eyes. She holds her glass of mango mimosa, taking a sip.
“Nothing!” They both speak in tandem and Lottie makes a face at the two.
“No surprises,” you plead with your friends. “The rest of the day is already planned.”
“Don’t worry, babe! We’re not planning anything else,” Gwen reassures.
“It’s just that—” Ivy is cut off when Gwen jabs her in the ribs. “Ow!”
Gwen puts her phone down, hiding it under her thigh. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”
“But it does—kind of—” Ivy interjects. “Jimin and his wife—they’re pregnant.” She grabs Gwen’s phone, showing a photo of Jimin kissing his wife’s belly.
“Oh,” you say softly. “That’s great. I’m really happy for him.”
You hate to admit it, but it stings. He’s living the life you dreamed of with him. The big house, big cars, but someone else got the big ring. And now they’re starting a family? Everyone seems to be moving forward, but it feels like you’re at standstill. It’d be amazing to have a man plop in your lap, but life just doesn’t seem to be going your way.
Clearing your throat, “Should we get ready for the pool?”
—
It doesn’t matter how many times you tug down your swimsuit, it keeps riding up in all the wrong places. The white linen shorts and tie top aren’t doing you any favors either by being paper thin.
The pool is bustling with hoards of party-goers. They’re laughing, drinking, and having the time of their life. An ex-boyfriend’s current life shouldn’t be affecting yours—but it is. You wish you could let go, let loose, forget everything related to Park Jimin. You’d rather be consumed by anything, anyone other than him.
Lottie’s at the bar, ordering a round of drinks. Gwen and Ivy are grabbing the attention of four guys. And it’s the last night before returning to reality, so you should be having fun, flirting, and making a fool of yourself to someone whom you’ll never see again. That’s what Vegas is for, right?
As a maid of honor, you’re definitely not living up to the hype and you know Lottie’s disappointed expression like the back of your hand, and yet you can’t unbunch your panties that are in a twist. The effects of the morning mimosas have worn off, and maybe you need something stronger. Hell—even a gummy sounds tempting at this point. Anything to forget how miserable your love life is.
“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Lottie asks. You shake your head no, but she knows you. She sits down, taking your hands. “Look, I’m sorry about Jimin. It sucks that he got married even though he said he never wanted to—” You’re ready to interrupt but she stops you, placing her index finger on your lips.
“Bup-bup-bup. I know what you’re going to say, but don’t,” Lottie implores, pleading with her eyes. She knows how much you torment yourself with lowly thoughts.
You want to say that there’s definitely something wrong with you. Why else would Jimin say one thing to you about marriage and then do the complete opposite?
“You’re more than enough, so please don’t think otherwise. Don’t let this one guy determine the course of your future relationships. He’s not worth your time and energy.”
Tears began to well behind your eyes as she continued, “You deserve to have some fun. So please, can we enjoy this last night together before we have to go back to our real lives?” Lottie pouts along with puppy eyes.
Lottie’s always right and that’s what you love about her. You hate that you’ve been a poor sport this weekend when you’re supposed to be celebrating your friend and having fun. You’ve been busy moping over a man who is now married with a child on the way. It’s a pathetic way to spend your last night in Vegas.
You let out a deep breath, expelling all the bad energy you’ve harnessed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been the worst maid of honor, but have no fear!” A server brings over the drinks that Lottie ordered, you pick up your Paloma cocktail and an oversized margarita, handing it to the bride-to-be. “Let’s have the best night. Cheers!” you say, clinking your glass against hers.
—
Tequila is one of your worst enemies, but also the best way for you to loosen up your limbs and lips.
By the time the four of you arrive at the hotel room, you’re unsure if you can even pick up a paintbrush, let alone even get paint on a canvas.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sorry that you love me! Change my mind up like it’s origami!”
The trio of you, Ivy, and Gwen are linked arm in arm trying to fit through the door while singing at the top of your lungs.
“Ugh—I swear Tate McRae is my spirit animal,” you say, turning to Gwen. “You know, she just gets it. Always gets me in my sad girl hours and then has me dancing the next.”
“I’m a-I’m a-I’m a wild ride that never stops!” Ivy continues singing, letting go of the two of you while Lottie trails behind. Someone has to be the semi-sober one.
“Hey Ro—they’re bringing everything right?” Lottie asks you.
“Yeah, the guy will bring the supplies. There’s an area cleared out for him. I’m gonna freshen up then I’ll be out.”
“I’m ready for a man to bare it all and ask nothing of me in return,” Gwen comments, taking a seat on the couch.
You chuckle, shaking your head at your friend. Hopefully, it’ll be the last naked man you’ll see this weekend. But either way, you’re sure you’ll enjoy this last activity.
The powder puff pats against your skin, making dust fly everywhere. Taking a step back, you give yourself the once-over in the mirror, but not before swiping a red stain on your lips. You don’t want to look disheveled for this naked guest. Apparently, he’s the ‘next best thing’ next to Namjoon, and you saw Namjoon’s photo on the website. You’re curious to see this mystery man and how this evening will end up.
As the door is ajar, you can hear the girls talking amongst themselves along with giggles. Whoever this guy is, he must be living up to their standards.
You’re unsure what to expect, how everything will turn out. Is this model fully naked? Are they covered? Do you keep your art piece? How are you supposed to bring a canvas of a naked man on a plane without receiving a few stares? You definitely didn’t think this part through.
“Ro! Get your butt out here. We’re gonna start painting soon!” Gwen yells, making you sprint out the door and into a curious situation.
Four canvases on easels and paint palettes on stools surround the model. His back is turned to you and he’s already half-naked with only a towel wrapped around his waist. One arm is completely inked from the top of his shoulder to his wrist. When he turns around and your jaw drops, not because he’s built like a Greek god (well, yeah he is), but because you recognize the half-naked man.
“Jeon Jungkook?”
“Ro?” His eyes light up and he secures his towel, tucking it in his waist. “What are you doing here?”
You step toward him and the girls. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Err—”
Lottie clears her throat, blinking at you and then Jungkook. “Um, excuse me. How do you two know each other?”
The pair of you give each other a look and chuckle before you answer. “Oh, we went to college together.”
“Just went to college together? Nothing more?” Ivy narrows her eyes at you, trying to figure out if you’re lying.
“What? No! We’re just friends. I was with Jimin, remember?” A pathetic reminder of your past relationship and now non-existent one.
“Uh huh,” Lottie remarks, taking a stride to you, pulling you in. “I wanna hear all the details about that one later.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” you whisper. “We’re friends—nothing more.” Catching Jungkook’s gaze, you smile softly before taking your seat on the stool.
“Are you ladies ready?” Jungkook asks, ripping off his towel, only to reveal another small hand towel covering his crotch.
The girls are yelping and hollering. You can’t help but cover your eyes, giggling at the fact that you’ll be painting one of your friends—naked.
—
Jungkook’s surrounded by the four of you. His pose is simple, straight forward. Literally straight forward because he’s facing you, knees slightly bent as he’s sitting on the stool. Your eyes have caught his every now and again, but he's focused on something past you.
Every inch of him is chiseled like a statue right out of Ancient Greece. From his jawline, to his collarbone, to his sculpted chest and not one, two, three, four, but eight pack abs. How is it that some people are just born to look like a Greek god? You didn’t think God had favorites, but Jeon Jungkook definitely proves you wrong.
Studying Jungkook’s physique for the past hour has made you realize how intimate this feels. Although the pair of you were friends in school, this is the most time you’ve spent with him outside of it, and the most time you’ve spent just looking at him. He is definitely a pretty boy with a soft, sweet energy.
Your brows are knitted, biting your bottom lip, trying to figure out how to paint his inked arm. It’s looking more and more like a glob than anything distinguishable. It’s when your eyes catch his and he’s doing that smile, the one where one side curves up, and it makes your heart skip a beat.
Jungkook’s eyes flick to the large clock in the living area. “Okay, ladies. It looks like time is up. How did everyone’s painting turn out?” There are groans and grumbles coming from the four of you. Jungkook chuckles, “Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad.”
He turns, fetching a robe behind him, slipping it on to cover himself. Jungkook takes it upon himself to check out everyone’s canvases, and you’re dreading the moment when he approaches yours.
You clutch it, holding it close to your body, and you have no intention of Jungkook ever seeing it.
He tilts his head, giving you a look. “Ro—it can’t be that bad.”
“Trust me, it is!” You turn, hoping to somehow destroy it before leaving tomorrow morning. It’s not that Jungkook looks horrible—it’s that you’re a horrible painter. But your death grip isn’t as strong as he is. With a sigh, you hand it over to him.
Jungkook nods with a pout on his lips. “It’s…”
“Horrible—I know.”
“No, no. I’d say it has an abstract feeling to it. I like it.” He gives a bright smile, returning the canvas to you.
You give him a thin smile, knowing that he’s just saying it because it’s his job. “By the way, you’re really good at this gig, but are you still pursuing the whole modeling thing?”
“I’m still doing that. I just do this gig for fun on the weekends. I mean, I get to meet cool, and sometimes crazy people and the money isn’t bad either.”
“Alright, ladies and gentleman. Tequila, anyone?” Gwen suggests as she wiggles her eyebrows, holding up the bottle. No one answers which makes her frown. “Aw, come on!”
“I’m game. What about you Ro?” Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised, eyes practically pleading for you to say yes. “One for me?”
You know it’s never ‘just one’ with Jungkook. You’ve seen first hand what that one line does to people, but you take the risk. “Okay, Jeon—just one.”
Everyone else gives in, raising and clinking their glasses to toast the bachelorette. Expelled breaths come from everyone after knocking back the clear liquor.
“Round two?” Jungkook asks, extending his glass toward Gwen in which she happily obliges.
You smirk, shaking your head as you catch Jungkook’s gaze.
—
It didn’t take long until you were feeling euphoric from the alcohol coursing through your veins. You’re always on cloud nine when you drink Tequila.
Lottie called it quits after her fifth shot. Gwen and Ivy are also well on their way to sleeping like babies. But you and Jungkook? You both have caught a second wind of energy.
“Ugh, I’m so hungry!” you exclaim, rubbing your belly as it growls. Jungkook’s trying to hold in a laugh. With a gasp, you turn to him, slapping his back, which is firm to the touch. “Shut up! Drinking makes me hungry.”
“Okay then, let’s get some room service. What are you craving?”
You tap your cheek with your index finger, combing through the many options. “Pizza. No—wait, chicken wings.” Jungkook closes his eyes and hums. “No, nope! I want a juicy, juicy hamburger…with…with…” Your brain is obviously short-circuiting.
“Fries?” Jungkook answers.
“Yes! Fries! And a milkshake!”
“We can do that. I’ll call it in.”
An hour has passed and you and Jungkook are sprawled out on the bed, bellies full and minds are swirling.
“Oh man, I haven’t done anything like this in such a long time,” you admit, turning over onto your belly. You lay your head in the crook of your arm, facing Jungkook.
“What? Eating?” he teases.
You giggle. “No—getting tipsy and I don’t know, just being free.”
“This is you being free?” Jungkook raises a brow. “I gotta get some more tequila in you then.” He proceeds to get up, but you pull him back.
“No, no, no. Trust me, this is good. I don’t wanna black-out.”
“Okay, how about some champagne then? Just to celebrate your last night here,” Jungkook suggests.
You know you’ll regret it, but you agree. “Just one bottle.” Besides you already paid for it, you wouldn’t want it to go to waste.
He sprints out of the bedroom to the bar area to grab a bottle and two glasses. You can’t help but notice how his biceps flex as he pours the two of you a glass.
“To—”
“Lottie,” you finish his sentence.
“To Lottie.” He clinks his glass with yours before chugging down his bubbly.
You stare blankly at the Greek god himself. “You’re trying to get me drunk, aren’t you?”
His lips thin into a smile. “I’m not doing anything…”
“Mmhm.” You take a gulp of your glass. You’re sure that if Jungkook were to ask you to do something, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. He made being around him comfortable and you always felt at ease.
“So, what should we do now?”
Your lips turn into a pout, peering around the room before a lightbulb goes off. “Ah! I have just the thing.” You rush over to your luggage, rummaging through it. Turning around, you wave a box of double tipped markers.
Jungkook knits his brows together. “And what do you think you’re going to do with those?”
You giggle. “You’ll see!”
—
Your tongue is out, concentrating on the purple line connecting from one beauty mark to the next. You’ve forced Jungkook to lie on his belly as you’re hunched over, straddling his legs.
“Don’t move!”
He relaxes, letting you continue on. Capping the purple marker, you set it aside. You’re giggling, tracing the line across his back and you can feel him squirm under your touch.
“You finished or what?” He peers over his shoulder but you turn him away.
"Just need to add the finishing touches." Leaning forward, you press your lips to the first beauty mark on his mid back, leaving a lipstick stain. Then you move to the next one beneath his shoulder blade, and continue on. His skin is smooth and warm under your lips, and though it's faint, you think you hear a low groan from him.
You sit up, adjusting your position, staring at the artwork you’ve created on Jungkook’s back. “Done—with your back at least. Now onto your arms.”
—
Jungkook turns his head to see what you’re coloring, flexing his bicep, making you color outside the lines.
“Oh my god! You made me mess up!” You try wiping the color, but it doesn’t budge. “You did it on purpose.”
“I did not! Why do you need to color inside the lines anyway?” he asks before returning to his previous position, resting his head on his arm.
“Because…that’s the way you’re supposed to color.” Taking an orange marker, you continue shading in his cloud tattoo.
“You don’t always have to follow the rules,” he breathed, gazing up at you.
“I know…” you mumble. Your eyes flick to his then back to the tattoo. You hate when things are not in your control. There were a handful of moments in your life when shit hit the fan and chaos ensued—Jimin being one of them.
You clear your throat, grabbing a yellow marker to color in a gradient effect. “And are you the type to not follow the rules?”
Jungkook chuckles, “I guess we don’t know each other well huh?”
“Well, I was practically glued to Jimin when we were in school.”
“What happened with you guys anyway? I thought you guys were like soulmates or something.”
“We just wanted different things,” you mumble, not wanting to elaborate. “What about you, hmm? Being a model in LA and Vegas? I’m sure you have women wanting to crawl into bed all the time.”
His gaze catches yours. “Exhibit A.”
You scoff. “Hey! We’re friends—that’s the only reason why you’re in my bed.”
“Uh huh. I saw the way you were eyeing me during the painting session. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it,” Jungkook teases, making you stop coloring, and pinch his underarm. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, just kidding!” He moves away, but you pull him back.
“Hey! I’m almost done coloring,” you say, gripping tighter onto his arm.
“That’s not fair. Only you get to color me?”
You sigh, tilting your head. “I’ll let you draw one thing on me.”
“Can I pick the location of where to draw it?”
“As long as it’s not my tits or ass.”
Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh. “Alright, how about your—”
Your hand flies to cover his mouth, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. “Jeon Jungkook! That’s a hard no!”
“You practically saw my junk and I can’t see yours?”
“Well, I paid for it.”
“I can pay you too.”
You gasp. “You can’t just buy me.”
“Fine. Give me a few options and I’ll choose the placement.”
It would be easy to choose a place more visible, but you’re feeling frisky. “My hip or my back.”
Jungkook lips his licks, eyes flicking to your hips then back up at you. “And I can draw anything I want?”
You hum with a nervous tremble. You’re sure he wouldn’t draw anything ridiculous. “I trust you.”
“‘Kay then, turn over on your belly. Top off.”
Sitting up, facing Jungkook, your hands fall to the first button on your linen vest. Your eyes never leave his as you continue to unfasten the rest, then you toss it aside, revealing a blush pink see-through bra with floral detailing. Jungkook is trying his best to not let his eyes wander lower and you’re trying to do the same. Yes, you’ve stared at his half-naked body for an hour tonight, but you didn’t have the chance to explore it up close.
“Is this okay?” You know it is, but you’d like confirmation.
“Mmm.” He gestures for you to lie down, and you do as he asks.
Jungkook reaches for a black marker, the tip is thinner than the others. He shifts his position a few times before lying comfortably next to you. The warmth from his body radiates, heating up against your skin. You lie on top of your crossed arms, facing him, wondering what he’s planning to draw. Maybe some flowers or stars.
His brows are knitted as he’s concentrated on where to begin. He starts on the middle of your back, drawing circular shapes from what you can tell. The tip of the marker grazes back and forth, and his hand and fingers emanate a gentle touch upon your skin.
He’s quite handsome, you think. Even the scar etched on his cheek has a certain beauty, and his nose must be a butterflies favorite place to land on.
“Is it okay if I unhook this?”
“Hmm?”
“Your um,” he clears his throat. “Your bra.”
You’ve been too focused on Jungkook’s face, you hadn’t realized he was halfway down your back. “Yeah, um, go for it.”
He unhooks your bra in one fell swoop and the sides of your bra fall to the side. Continuing with his design, he concentrates on the smallest details going down your spine. Your eyes flutter shut as his warm breath softly fans the wet ink on your skin.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Jungkook asks, trying to make conversation, realizing he doesn’t know you well, besides when you were with Jimin.
“Single as can be. What about you? A girlfriend? Friends with benefits? Situationship?”
Jungkook laughs. “What kind of life do you think I lead here, hm? That’s a lot of assumptions about me.”
“I don’t know. I just assume that someone that looks like you would have someone is all.”
“Well, I’m also single, and I’m a more monogamous kinda guy.”
“You are?” you question with a dramatic gasp. “That comes as a nice surprise. Maybe we should go get married tonight in a chapel,” you joke.
“With a few more drinks in me, I’m sure I’d say yes to anything.”
“Stop—don’t tempt me.”
“I’m serious. I’m ready to meet someone and do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but a lot of the people I meet just want sex.”
“I’m sorry, did I just meet a guy who doesn’t want sex?”
Jungkook deadpans. “I didn’t say I don’t want sex. I do—I just wanna be a romantic and spoil someone.”
“Oh, well, you can always wine and dine me. I won’t object,” you tease.
As Jungkook continues drawing, the pads of his fingers create a light buzz of electricity, from one end to the other. Your eyes flutter shut, relishing from his soft touch. You almost let out a low moan but catch yourself when he gets to a ticklish spot near your ribs.
“Jungkook?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think the right person will come along for you?”
A beat passes before he answers. “Yeah, I think so. Whoever they are, I just know that I'm probably not ready to meet them yet, but the right time will come.”
“But what if the right person came at the wrong time?”
“Or…you were the right person in the wrong place,” he suggests. “Are you talking about Jimin?”
“Yeah, I've been trying to avoid talking about him. He recently got married and his wife is pregnant too.”
“Ah, don't tell me you're feeling shitty? ‘Cause you shouldn't.”
A sad chuckle leaves your lips. “I'm pretty sure I fumbled it.”
Jungkook stops drawing on your back, softly calling your name, in which you hesitate to look at him for fear of bursting into tears.
“Hey…you didn't fumble anything. Pretty sure it's Jimin’s loss.”
“You're sweet, Kook. Thanks.”
Jungkook continues on his quest to finish his drawing.
“Is it almost finished?” you ask, clearing your throat. The tequila and champagne are starting to wear off and tomorrow’s reality is beginning to settle in. Tonight feels like a dream and you don’t want to wake up.
He hums. “Almost. Just a few more details then we’ll be good to go.” Short strokes lightly mark across your back and he doesn’t break his concentration. He continues for a few minutes before closing the cap. “Done. Wanna see?”
“I’m not gonna lie. I’m low-key scared to see what it is.”
Jungkook straightens his posture then reaches for his phone. “You have nothing to be scared of. It’s pretty. I promise.” He takes a photo, showing it to you.
Though the drawing session didn’t feel long, you could see the intricate detailing he went into drawing the moon phases down your back.
Sitting up then turning away from Jungkook, you use your arm to cover your breasts and secure your bra. “Are you always good at everything?” you ask, standing and walking over to the dresser, you pull out an oversized shirt, slipping it on, then you grab the tequila bottle and two shot glasses. There’s just enough to end the night.
Jungkook shifts to the edge of the bed, legs spread, and you slot yourself right in between. “Nah, I’m not good at everything.”
“Oh yeah? What are you not good at?” you ask, making him hold a glass while you pour his then yours.
He chuckles, looking away, then back up at you. “For starters, I’m not good at flirting.”
“You’re lying.” Your eyes lock in on his as you set the empty bottle down on the floor.
“I’m not.”
“Okay, practice on me then,” you say, trying to persuade him.
“A bit of liquid courage might help.”
You raise your glass and clink it against his. “Bottoms up.” The both of you wince as you knock them back, tossing the glasses on the carpeted flooring.
“Better?” you inquire, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, playing with the hair along the nape of his neck. Jungkook’s fingers delicately trace up and down your thighs, sending tingles across every inch of skin. His eyes are so starry, you’ll gladly get lost in them.
“You’re pretty.”
“Could say the same about you,” you giggle, twirling his hair in your fingers. “You’re right.”
Jungkook closes his eyes, reveling at your touch against his skin. “Mm, about what?”
“That you’re bad at flirting.” Your eyes linger on his lips, wondering what they taste like and how much you’d like to kiss the chocolate chip mole right underneath his bottom lip.
He lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at his feet then back at you. “Told you,” he says as he pulls away, propping himself up on the bed. He scans you from head to toe, loving the fact that you’re in between his legs. Hasn't seen you in years, but he’s intrigued.
Letting out a yawn, you cover your mouth then apologize.
“Damn, didn’t think my non-flirting would put you to sleep.”
You laugh. “It’s been a long day and it’ll be an even longer one tomorrow.”
“Right, I should head out too.” Jungkook shifts, scooting to the edge of the bed but you don’t budge.
“Do you wanna stay? Since it’s pretty late already.” Nearly 3 AM and you know you’ll regret this but right now, you’ll indulge in whatever’s left of this trip.
Jungkook’s silent for a moment before answering, “Sure. I’ll stay.”
You crawl over him, slipping under the covers that have been calling your name for the past few hours. The plush, fluffy pillows are like a cloud as you lay your head down. Jungkook follows your lead, doing the same, facing you. His fringe gently falls, covering his eyes, and you find yourself moving them out of his face.
“You’re cute,” you whisper, letting your finger trace his cheeks to his jawline.
“I don’t really like being cute,” he hums.
“Well, that’s just too damn bad, isn’t it?” You inch closer to him, and can feel the warmth radiating off his body. It feels nice to be in close proximity to another human being again. And you like that there are no expectations. You can just be with Jungkook. The two of you run in the same circle of friends, and he makes you feel safe—like if anything were to happen to you tonight, he’d take care of you.
Your eyes flick to his lips, lingering longer than expected, and your cheeks are warming up, ridding the last bit of alcohol coursing through your veins.
Jungkook moves in, closing the distance. The tip of his nose brushes against yours, lips ghosting each other in a delicate dance before finally meeting in a tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into each other. Hearts beating in perfect harmony, lost in the sweetness of the moment.
With your breaths mingled, it creates a cocoon of intimacy as you savor the softness of each other's lips. Your fingers entwined in his hair, drawing him closer, bodies pressed together in a silent declaration of desire.
The last leg of this trip was fate trying to make you forget about your worries, and Jungkook was the perfect color to paint over your monochrome palette.
There’s a longing deep inside you wanting to escape, and as much as you want to release it, you’d rather have him when you’re sober and in the right mindframe.
“Ro…” Jungkook moans as he pulls away, your hands splayed on his taut chest, forehead resting against his.
“Yeah?” you reply, leaning in for another kiss.
“I don’t want you like this,” he says, taking you by surprise, almost like he could read your mind.
Letting out a chuckle, you answer, “No—yeah, makes sense.”
“It’s not that ‘I don’t want you’, I do! I just—don’t want this to turn out like other flings I’ve had in the past because I don’t consider you ‘a fling’ or someone to just toss the next day because we’re friends and I would never do that to—“
You interrupt him with a peck on his lips. “Jungkook. I understand. I feel the same way.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I had a lot of fun tonight and that’s all thanks to you.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“No, you did! You helped me loosen up.”
“I’m sure it was just the champagne and tequila doing all the work.”
“They helped, but it was mostly you.” You smile, letting a beat pass before speaking again. “Should we try to get some sleep?”
He hums, leaning in for a kiss, in which you willingly give. You tug on his silver chain, asking for a few more kisses before letting him go.
Not even three minutes in and Jungkook is already snoring. His chest rising and falling, rumbling like a mountain. It’s cute, you think. Could get used to listening to this, almost like white noise.
You admire how Jungkook lives his life without worries, letting the wind guide him. It might not happen right away, but maybe when you return to reality, you should consider not always staying within the lines. That it’s okay to go out of bounds and live a little. Life shouldn’t be so serious all the time.
—
There’s a light sound of pitter patter sweeping across the floor with shushed ‘Ows’ and ‘shut up’. You weakly open your eyes to see what the commotion is. Your body wants to get up, but the pounding migraine is saying otherwise.
A loud thump makes you blink your eyes open and pop your head up. There’s furniture knocked over, tequila and champagne bottles are scattered everywhere, along with clothes and money.
The low, muffled groan startles you, making you cover yourself with the duvet. They’re facing away and you can’t make out who this mystery person is. You peer over to find a man covered in tattoos, and it looks like a child tried to color inside the tattoo lines but failed miserably.
He mumbles gibberish under his breath and turns over onto his stomach. Great, now you can’t even get a good look at him, you think.
His silver necklace glimmers from the sun peeking through the blinds. And holy shit—his shoulders?
Broad.
Chiseled.
For all you know, he could be some kind of athlete. Then you notice the purple lines on his back, and no—they aren’t scratches from nails, the lines connect from one beauty mark to the next across his back. It’s like one of those connect the dot pictures, except the finished drawing wasn’t anything recognizable. But surrounding each beauty mark is a pair of red lips, and as you look down at your hands, you find that you’re the culprit who must’ve drawn on this man.
What the fuck happened last night, you think.
Another groan escapes the man’s lips and he turns over again. You pull up your side of the duvet, further covering yourself, and the smallest gasp comes out. It’s none other than Jeon Jungkook, an old college buddy.
The duvet is pulled down, covering his bottom half, revealing his taut chest and not one, two, three, four—but an eight pack set of abs. Is it humanly possible to even have more than six?
How did he end up in Vegas? And specifically in your room?
“Jungkook?” you whisper. “Are you awake?”
“Mmm…”
You move closer, feeling the warmth from his body. “Jungkook, it’s time to get up.”
Still half asleep, he wraps his arm around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “Just five more minutes, Ro,” he says, nuzzling into you.
“Jeon Jungkook! What are you doing?”
He chuckles, smiling, finally peeking his eyes open. “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”
“I…remember things…” you say, lying through your teeth.
“Oh yeah?” Jungkook moves into a sitting position, turning to you. “So you know we got married, right?”
Your jaw drops and eyes widen. “Oh my god, please tell me you’re lying.”
“You’re the one who suggested it!”
How could you let yourself get married in Las Vegas? And at your best friend’s bachelorette party? It’s not like you’re trying to steal her thunder, quite the opposite, really. This was supposed to be about her, not you. Fuck—Lottie’s going to hate you, isn’t she?
Jungkook quietly watches you freak out. Wonders how long he can let this continue before telling the truth. He thinks you’re cute when you’re all flustered.
“No, we can't be married! I don't even know you and how would this even work? We live like 3000 miles away from each other? And would you move to New York? Or would I move to LA? What if your family doesn't like me? Your friends even? Wait–do you even like me? Oh–Jungkook, how did we let this happen?” you ask, burying your hands in your face.
Question after question runs through your mind and Jungkook is sitting there with a smirk on his face.
“Why aren't you freaking out?” you question, raising an eyebrow.
Jungkook chuckles, leaning over toward you. “You're really cute, you know that?” he says.
Your eyes follow his finger as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Clearing your throat, it's time to get down to the important things. “Kook–please! This isn't the time to tell me I'm cute. We have bigger things to worry about. We're married!”
He sucks in his lips, trying to hold in a laugh.
You knit your brows and narrow your eyes. “Unless…we’re not married…”
Jungkook lets out a soft laugh, his finger gently caresses your cheek. “Maybe one day, pretty girl. If we ever get to that stage of course.”
A smack against his arm reverberates throughout the room. “Aye! I'm gonna kill you. You really had me worried.”
He rubs the ruby red spot that's imprinted on his arm. “Why? Because marrying me would've been horrible?”
No, you think, quite the opposite.
“Of course not. It's just, we don't know each other and I wouldn't want you to feel trapped in a marriage,” you explain.
You'd at least wanna go on a real date and get to know him before strapping him down forever.
He nods in agreement. “Well, I had fun last night. Hence all the things I let you do to me.” Jungkook points out the badly colored arm and connect-the-dots on his back.
“Oh, I'm so sorry about that.”
“I'm not. I'm glad you had fun even though you don't remember it.”
“Please tell me I didn't act like an idiot.”
Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, you're fine, but uh, I should get going since you have a flight to catch.”
“Oh, shit. My flight.” You reach over to find your phone. It's already 9 AM, and thankfully the airport isn't far away and TSA Pre-check has been a lifesaver.
With another glance, you see your clothes and Jungkook's scattered on the ground. He reaches to grab his shirt and sweats.
“I, um, I was pretty bold last night. Wasn't I?” you were referring to the pair of lips covering his back.
Jungkook snickers. “Yeah, just a bit, but I didn't mind it at all,” he says, slipping his shirt on. He stands, putting his sweats on and you can't help but stare at his peachy ass in his black Calvin Klein–the tight kind. “Do you remember anything else from last night?”
Your mind thinks back to the whirlwind of last night. There was definitely alcohol involved because you only act with confidence under the influence of Tequila.
But a recollection of soft lips and entangled hair between your fingers flutter back into the present just for a fleeting moment.
You shake your head, wanting to keep this memory to yourself.
Jungkook's lips thin into a smile as he ruffles his bed head hair. “Call me next time you're in town?”
You stand to meet him. “Or you can call me when you're in the Big Apple,” you reply, handing him your phone.
He dials your number, so you can have his. “Mm, looks like that confidence hasn't left yet.”
“Mm, I have a smidge of it left.”
“Yeah?” He draws closer, and you nod in agreement.
“Yeah,” you whisper, taking in his warmth and scent.
Last night was hazy but bits and pieces are coming back. You're not sure if a lot of these moments with Jungkook are real or just a dream. You'd like to hope he enjoyed spending time with you as much as you did with him.
“It was really good to see you, Kook.”
“Good to see you too, Ro. Don't be a stranger, okay?” He turns on his heel to open the bedroom door, but turns around to say one last thing. “Oh, and don't worry too much about the right person. Who knows, maybe you’ve met them already.”
You wonder if he's referring to himself. You have to admit, he's been making you smile and laugh more than usual, even making you blush.
“Mm, I'll keep that in mind.”
He flashes a smile, opening the door.
“Jungkook?”
He hums, turning to you again.
You reach up to kiss him on the cheek. “What happened in Vegas, can it not stay in Vegas?”
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safeguard, kento nanami
synopsis: bf!nanami comforting you after an incident with a stalker. content: (dealing with a stalker). comfort. fluff. wc: 1.1k a/n: based on an ask. ee being stalked is so scary. need all stalkers to d!3 immediately 😒!
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. on your way to your boyfriend's apartment for a movie night you stop at a grocery store to grab some snacks. you get back in your car and start driving to his place. 15 minutes.
you're on a red light when you notice the van behind you has their headlights off and a dark tint. it's nightime so and the street lights are dim so you couldn't really see their face.
you start getting anxious, trying to think if you've seen this van before. and you immediately recall that it's the same van you saw at outside your gym a few days ago, with a beaver sticker on it's side.
the light turns green and you drive slow to see if they would overtake you but they don't. your anxiety is at an all time high confused about what to do, you call your boyfriend. "pick up, pick up," you mumble anxiously when the call goes to voicemail. you call him once more but still no answer.
you take a turn and the van follows. you're getting closer to your destination but the van is still tailing you. your phone rings and you quickly pick it up "hey sorry, i was in the kitchen. where are you? it's been twenty minutes." nanami's voice comes through.
"kento," your voice is shaking as you’re on the verge of tears. a sense of relief flooding you at hearing his voice, finally. "baby? are you okay? where are you?" he questions you worriedly. "yeah 'm okay. i— there's this van following me. i don't— i don't know what to do," you reply.
"what do you mean following you? where are you?" he asks and you can hear dishes clanking and nanami whispering a “fuck” when he hurts himself. "remember i told you about that weird van i saw at the gym the other day. i think it's the same one. i'm close to your place. i don't know how to lose them."
you hear him grab his keys and the apartment door shut in the background when he replies, "go to our usual cafe. i'll meet you there. okay?"
"okay. don't hang up." your breathing is erratic. "i'm here baby. don't worry, i'm here." he comforts you. "tell me. what snacks did you get for the movie," he asks trying to distract you. his footsteps hurried as he half runs to the cafe trying reach you quicker.
"i see you and i see the van. park on the side and come inside," he says and you let out a sigh of relief. he quickly snaps a pic of the van and sends it to ijichi 'get me information about the van and driver. quick'.
you make your way into the cafe and run into his arms. tears coating your face. "you're okay," he whispers into your hair. "i was so scared," you mumble into his chest. he hugs you tighter. "me too baby. but you're okay now. they can't hurt you, alright?" he pulls back a little to see your face.
you nod as you wipe the tears, "i'm sorry for—" you try to apolgize for worrying him but he quickly shuts you up "don't. don't apolgize." he furrows his eyebrows. "i'm always here for you, yeah? gonna always take care of you, don't do that." he gives you a quick kiss on your forehead.
"come on, let's go back home." you walk out of the cafe and the van is still there, parked a few meters away. "it's still here" you speak in a low murmur. your grip on his hand tightens.
as you start walking back to his place, nanami gets a text back from ijichi 'van belongs to an ex convict. served for 2 years for violation of restraining order and stalking. got out last month.'
he turns around. his expression something between disgust and rage. "fucking creep, let me go have a chat with him," he drops your hand but before he can go further you grab onto his arm "no, please ken. please. let's just go home," your voice quivers.
not wanting to stress you further he does as you say. "i'm going to take a shower," you sigh walking into the apartment. he texts ijichi and tells him to handle the guy.
as he’s waits for you he fluffs the pillows on the couch, adds a blanket, and dims the light, — wanting to create a comforting atmosphere for you. he decides you’ve been in the shower for far too long and joins you.
your head’s resting against the shower tiles when you hear the door open and shut. a quivering breathe escapes your lips as his hands wrap around your waist pulling you back into his chest.
you turn around in his arms and bury your face into his chest. your body trembles with each silent sob. he tightens his hold on you. “you’re safe. you’re okay. i’m here. never going to let you get hurt, my sweet angel. i promise.” he reassures you, gently rubbing your back.
at his words you finally look up at him and his heart clenches at the hurt in your eyes. he swears to himself then to make sure that guy ends up in prison again and to do his best to not have you feel this way. he kisses your forehead as if sealing his vow. he pulls you out of the shower and dresses you in his clothes.
he spends the next couple of days not too far from you. driving you to and from anywhere and everywhere you wanted to go. your personal chauffeur, bodyguard, boyfriend all in one. you were so grateful for him.
soon enough that guy ends up behind bars. he gives you a brief background on the guy in the van and how you were one of the few victims of his stalking mission.
one night while you’re watching a movie together, nanami hands you a black box with cute bow on top. inside it, you find a key. “we should pack whatever you have left at your apartment so you can move in with me,” he says – catching you off guard. you snap your head towards him and he smiles at you cheekily.
ever since you’ve moved in with him, he urges you to go out on your own – not wanting you to live in constant fear. apart from that nanami hires security personnel that follows you around from a distance to not overwhelm you but still makes you feel protected. moreover makes him feel at ease knowing you’re under safe watchful eyes.
𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚。𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.
a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!
© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!
#✎ luna.writes#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jjk fic#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami x reader#kento#kento nanami#nanami fluff#nanami fic#nanami x you#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x you#kento nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x you#kento nanami jjk#jujutsu kaisen nanami
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I've got this image in my head of very pregnant!AYW reader sitting outside with her feet in a kiddie pool, letting the older boys splash around and keep her cool on a hot day. Maybe a cooler full of frozen treats at her side.
I have had this one in my ask box forever because I wanted to write something I’d be happy with and I think I’m there lol. I hope it makes you happy as well 😘
Words: 1.4k
[As You Wish masterlist]
Of course. The August that you’re seven months pregnant is the hottest summer Hawkins has had in over fifty years. Of course.
Eddie could see how the heat was getting to you. Sweat would dot your forehead just moments after you’d step outside. Your ankles had swollen to almost double the size. It hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that you were a little more irritable than usual as well. But your husband wasn’t sure what he could do to comfort you. Usually, his way of comforting you included wrapping you up in his arms but the one time he’d attempted to do that you’d given him a death glare that blazed hotter than the weather. He’d learned his lesson after that: no touching when the temperature is above a hundred degrees.
One early Saturday afternoon, you and Luke are eating lunch while Eddie and Ryan run a few errands. Luke had wanted to go too, but ever since you started your third trimester, Eddie didn’t like the idea of leaving you by yourself.
It’s quiet between you and your ten-year-old son when the back door bangs open, making you jump and swivel around in your seat–which was no easy task. Perspiration runs down Eddie’s forehead, Ryan’s own golden brown hair plastered to his forehead from the moisture. Patches of Ryan’s gray shirt are black and clinging to his skin from the sweat. If Eddie’s black Iron Maiden shirt weren’t so dark, you know you’d see the same thing on him. Despite how hot and sweaty they both look, they both have smiles on their faces and Eddie looks quite proud of himself.
“I f’ought oo were goin’ to da store,” you say around a mouth full of pasta salad.
“We did,” Eddie said, breaths labored.
“And we set up a surprise for you!” Ryan adds, his beaming grin stretching from ear to ear.
“And me?” Luke asks optimistically, craning his neck to look over at his father and brother.
“Actually, kind of,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Come on.” Your husband waves the both of you over towards the back door before remembering he should help you up out of the chair–even though you’re capable of doing it yourself.
The boys both run ahead of you as Eddie stays back with your waddling pace. It feels like no sooner than your bare foot hits the grass of the yard than sweat begins to break out along your hairline. You swear you’ll never complain about the winter being too cold again.
“It’s small,” you hear Luke say.
Your eyes catch on the short inflatable kiddie pool set up in the middle of the backyard, two white and blue striped lawn chairs set up beside it, and a large red cooler between them. The garden hose is hanging inside the pool, the green tube writhing like a snake as the water whooshes in to fill the empty space.
“Cause it’s a kiddie pool, duh,” Ryan replies to his brother.
“I thought,” Eddie starts, reaching up to rub your shoulders before catching himself, not wanting to make your discomfort worse, “you could sit out here with your feet in the nice cold water. Might help your ankles, too. And you know these two monkeys are always splashing so you’re bound to get caught in the crossfire.”
“Hey,” Luke protests, but Ryan nudges him with his elbow because they both know that their father is right.
“And…” Eddie takes your hand and gently leads you closer to the chairs, where he opens the cooler that’s nestled between them. Inside there are different flavors of ice pops, ice cream bars, and cold drinks, all enveloped in gallons of ice that have a pleasant chill wafting off them.
Words become trapped in your throat. Your wonderful husband did all of this for you just because he knows how the heat has been making you feel lately. And after you’ve been a pain in the ass. This would’ve made you emotional even if the hormones didn’t beat you to the punch.
“Eddie,” you say, all other speech cut off as your bottom lip begins to wobble.
“Uh oh,” Luke whispers.
“No, could be a good thing,” Ryan mumbles back quietly. He was slightly better at understanding the emotional aspect of hormones than his little brother.
“This is so sweet,” you say, turning to cup your husband’s face in your hands.
“You’ve been hard at work cooking that bun in the oven,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Oven needs some cooling down though, she’s getting overheated.”
“Ahem,” you hear from behind you. Ryan moves into your peripheral vision, and you turn your head to look at him, sliding your hands down to Eddie’s shoulders as you do. The eldest brother is clearly holding something behind his back, and you scrunch up your brow as you look at him.
“Whatcha got?” you ask.
Eddie huffs out a small chuckle and presses a kiss to your temple before saying, “Ryan found something at the store he says is on every ad for the beach.”
“You bought me sand? The ocean?” you tease the boy.
Ryan rolls his eyes, another reminder that he’s a preteen now.
“No,” he says. From behind him, Ryan brandishes a floppy hat, and he is certainly right—a woman is wearing one of those in every ad for the beach.
“Ryan, I love it!” you exclaim with a giggle. The grass crunches beneath your feet as you waddle over the few steps to the boy. He holds the straw hat out to you, a bright grin on his face at your happiness.
“You know,” you say as you accept the hat from him, “I’d bend down so you could put it on my head but then I wouldn’t be able to stand back up.”
“Like crowning a princess!” Luke adds as Ryan laughs.
“Well,” your husband says, coming up behind you, “it’s a good thing I’m taller than Ryan then, huh? Or we could’ve just made Luke help you back up.”
Eddie plucks the hat from your grasp, the straw scratching lightly against your fingertips as he pulls it away. He steps in front of you, and you keep your head level, only raising your eyes to watch Eddie’s pale, toned arms lift to place the floppy hat on top of your head gently.
“Your Highness,” Eddie says, bowing his head. Your giggle makes Eddie grin as he gestures towards the lawn chairs. “Your throne awaits.”
Twenty minutes later it’s as if the summer heat were merely an annoying insect that you’re only somewhat aware of. Even though the chill water of the miniature pool only goes up to midcalf, sloshes of water have hit you all the way up to your neck. The cool beads of moisture feel like heaven as they meander down your red tank top, though. The denim shorts you’re wearing will weigh a ton later since the boys’ splashing has gotten them so wet, but Eddie’s such a pro at taking your clothes off that he could use a little challenge this time.
Luke and Ryan manage to find games to play in the small pool—after Luke’s failed attempt at Marco Polo, anyway. Toy boats glide through the water, a few of them on the grass from flying overboard. The two boys shout but they’re outside and having fun, and it’s nice to hear.
The sound of the back door slamming shut reaches you as you tilt your head back, protected from the sun by Ryan’s thoughtful gift and the sunglasses you grabbed when you got changed. Eyes closed, you listen to footsteps in the grass as Eddie walks your way from the house. They come to a stop and you sense as he crouches down next to you. Lazily, you loll your head to the side and crack your eyes open.
“How’re my girls?” Eddie asks, placing his right hand over the soaked red shirt covering your baby bump.
“Mmm, good,” you hum. “She’s very happy you bought strawberry shortcake bars.”
“I’m glad she liked them,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “What about you, princess? How do you feel?”
You pretend to consider his question for a moment before speaking.
“Kiss me?”
You pucker your lips and there’s no hesitation as your husband leans in and gently presses his own against yours.
“Perfect. Now I’m perfect.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#older!eddie#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWS#request
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ok so like this is my first ask so sorry if its worded weird!! but could you write a drabble for ellie where like reader is dinas step sister or sum and like reader lives a few states away and dina wants reader to meet her friends so reader visits and meets all of them and ellie is like nervous and stuff and dina teases her for it and eventually dina ships ellie and reader tg (once again sorry if its worded weird..😭)
it's okay! so i'm not gonna specify readers relationship with dina lmao, reader could be a family friend too... and it's longer than a drabble, sorry. but here you go!
why don't you stay, stay here after hours?
ellie x reader, just fluff, not proofread, enjoy :)
you haven't been here for a while. but dina's apartment stayed the same, citrus-scented air freshener and deep brown eyes meeting you at the front door, it was all so familiar, even after all those years. however, you didn't expect a pretty face to emerge from behind her, in fact you didn't expect your little trip to good old hometown to be interesting in any way. when dina told you about her friends, you weren't expecting much, sorry dina. but shit, her friend is more than pretty, she's incredibly attractive.
"come on in," dina says, hugging you, miss pretty face standing awkwardly to the side. you let go, dina gestures towards her, you've been dying to know about her at this point and it's been only a few minutes since you got here.
"so, this is my friend ellie, we used to be a thing but—" ellie clears her throat, are her cheeks slightly rosy?
"we're really good friends, that's what i was trying to say," she continues, shooting ellie a glare. you awkwardly laugh, exchange some 'hi''s and 'nice to meet you''s with ellie, her raspy voice makes it harder for you to remember what you're here for. pretty auburn hair, strands falling out of her bun framing her face, green eyes and long lashes, freckles and kissable lips... what were you here for?
and ellie can't help but notice your eyes wandering, it's making her nervous. it's making her nervous that a gorgeous woman like you was watching her so carefully, she isn't used to getting this much attention next to dina who's incredibly extroverted and drawing all the attention.
she watches you leave and go up to dina's room. pulling dina aside, ellie elbows her.
"ouch," she hisses, rubbing herself.
"what the fuck? why would you mention we used to be a thing," ellie whispers. dina gasps, then covers her mouth, a sly smirk creeping up her face.
"don't tell me you like—" ellie cuts her off with a threatening, well not so threatening, 'hey' hoping dina understands that she needs to quiet down, you're literally upstairs.
"no, she's just pretty. you didn't tell me she's that pretty," she whispers, her face turning red. this will be a fun game for dina, for sure.
you all sit in her very cramped, but colorful kitchen, snacking and drinking while you and dina catch up. however, ellie can't help but steal glances from you, she couldn't help but study your face, the way you speak, the way you'd wheeze when you thought you said something funny, or when you—
"—and ellie is so, totally so single, incredibly single," dina laughs, pulling ellie out of thought. and you too, you've been thinking about ellie's green eyes lingering on your lips, is something on there? dina is the only one laughing while you and ellie are exchanging glances, for a second it feels like the world stopped for you to step closer to something unreachable.
"i guess i am? but why does that matter," ellie then responds, annoyance lacing her voice.
"because she's single too? and i just wanna be able to say that i'm a matchmaker," dina continues, stuffing chips into her mouth. you laugh, but ellie doesn't.
"you really wanna make us all uncomfortable, huh?" ellie mutters, fuck, why would she say that? she's been so overly self-conscious, trying really hard to leave good impressions, but having a pretty girl watch her bicker with her good friend, not how she imagined this to go at all.
"oh i'm not uncomfortable, don't worry," you say, the tension was thick. and dina notices this too, this whole thing took the wrong turn.
"well back in high school i walked up to someone thinking it was dina and scared that girl from behind, talk about uncomfortable," she scoffs. dina immediately throws back her head and cackles, but you can hear ellie's soft and low chuckles. fuck she's cute and you want to know more, know more about her and all the stories she had to tell and lived up until now.
and ellie is more than happy to see the smile that emerged on your lips when she said that, her eyes on you while you giggle at dina's silly stories about teenage ellie and dina's adventures. she just can't look away, your nose scrunches when you laugh, your eyes literally sparkle, you are just so endearing, and ellie would be a fool to pass up on this chance, on this chance to get to know you.
and you spend the rest of the afternoon at dina's place, laughter filling the room, glances and hands brushing filling up your heart.
"okay guys, we need to wrap it up, jesse is on his way and you know how he gets," dina shoots a look to ellie, both nodding in some secret agreement.
"can you get her to her hotel? but take it slow guys, never fuck on the first date," she chuckles, ellie scoffs while getting on her jacket, ellie would never be able to even hold hands with someone as beautiful and kind as you. but it for sure is a nice thought, a thought she saves for when she'll go to sleep later. and your thoughts are racing too, you're about to get in the car with ellie, she'll be driving you, you'll be alone with her, you are freaking out, but you can't let it show.
instead you awkwardly play with the leaves on the ground while you wait in front of her car after you said goodbye to dina.
walking out of dina's apartment, ellie can feel her heart jump out of her chest. she's a fucking wreck, but her urge for more is too big to ignore, she has to do something about all the feelings you made her feel. and for once in her life, she decides to make the first move once you're in her car, something dina always made fun of, telling ellie she's the biggest coward ever.
but not today, today she'll make you fall for her.
what she didn't know is that the second ellie opened the door for you and the scent of patchouli and tobacco filled your senses, you already fell, really hard at that.
you sit in her passenger seat, imagination running wild, the two of you could be knee deep—
"you comfy?" ellie asks, pulling you out of thought. you nod, yeah too fucking comfortable. you struggle putting your seatbelt on because your hands are shaking, but ellie is attentive, already helping you out, with shaky hands too.
to your disappointment, the drive was mostly quiet, so quiet you could hear your own racing heartbeat. but it's stupid to believe that someone like ellie would want to get to know you, you feel stupid for getting your hopes up.
ellie's eyes are on the navigator the whole time, two more streets and you're at the hotel. two more streets, she has to do something. the wheel is getting moist under her sweaty hands, she has never been this nervous in her whole life. but she might never see you again and does she really want to risk that? risk never going to meet anyone like you again? ellie clears her throat, she can't live with the thought of never having tried.
so she inhales deeply as she stops at the red light.
"so—" she starts, looking your way, making sure she got your attention. you tilt your head, you're gorgeous, god you are making this hard, ellie thinks to herself.
"—i made dinner, you should stay." ellie says, her voice low, eyes searching for yours in anticipation, she is about to explode.
"i'd love to," you reply. ellie smiles and hits the gas a little harder than needed as the lights turn green.
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