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#all the more reason to put 'em up again!
spiritsonic · 2 years
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Reposting my IDW Sonic comic girls' holiday outfits from 2020!
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puppyeared · 1 year
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I hate drawing eyewssssss
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bmpmp3 · 2 months
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I NEEED to go back to making art that makes it ABUNDANTLY clear that theres something wrong with my brain BUT NOT in a cool or stylishly interesting way. i need to do it in a way that makes people say "hm." and walk away
#sowwy ive been kinda going through it in my fine arts major rn can u tell HJKSDHKFd#ive been feeling like. scared. and paralyzed by marketability and branding.#i cant stop thinking about how other people will see my art. but not like in a good way#when i was younger i thought about it in a good way. like hee hee hoo hoo the act of looking connected us hee hee#but rn i keep thinking about it in like this wretched like consumer product mindset? ouhhghhhhh el problema es el capitalismo#and like maybe this works for some people. to think like this. to make art like this. its what my professors push me towards#not intentionally. they dont say it out loud at least. im not sure if they know or not some of the irony#my professors are nice and pretty smart and talented and i like em. but sometimes i wonder like. the push for us as students to make like#marketable 'avant garde'? stuff thats safe but pretending to be weird and out there#i dont mean to sound pretentious. in general i play it too safe myself (spent too much time as an edgy 10 year old with my#parents freaking out over my shoulder because they think the fact that i drew an anime character frowning means something serious LOL)#but i dunno man. my least interesting art with the least amount of care thought or effort always gets so much more attention in school#nowhere else oddly. online? people like my more passionate but seemingly frivolous art (oc art etc. not frivolous to me but yknow how it is#same with irl artists and other industry people outside my school. whats going on in my school LOL#i know from experience i cant push myself into a supposedly marketable brand. if i try to make something sell it will not.#i dont know why. maybe theres an invisible essence buyers can tell when i didnt care jkfsldjdfrds#but my teachers LOOOOVE the stuff i put no passion in its so bizarre orz but i gotta relearn how to ignore half of their advice#i used to be better at it. but i also only used to ignore like a quarter of their advice. maybe i need to amp up how much im ignoring#that sounds mean. they have plenty of good advice. but also plenty of advice thats clouded by their own biases#and i gotta relearn how to sort out this stuff again. i forget every few months for some reason#you know i always think ouuhhhhh i act so neurotypical ouhhhhhhhhh im outgoing i talk to strangers all the time i seem confident#im so masked IM SO MASKED but then i go a couple weeks where every conversation i have has people looking at me like#i have two heads and neither of them are speaking their language. and then i descend into madness like this HJKLDSHJDS#i'll be fine i'll figure it out. i need to stop trying to get a good grade in being a 'cutting edge' conventional artist <3#i need to just. draw my cartoon characters in peace 😔😔😔
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Am I the asshole for getting my best friend killed?
I swear to God, it was an accident.
My (27) BF (34) has a reputation for getting himself out of any jam you can imagine; and at first it was just a fun little thing the friend group noticed: there goes Oily J wiggling his way out of trouble again. but as the meme evolved in the group, it got to the point where we'd loykey started getting him into situations just to see how he'd get out of 'em, and he akept getting out of em. He was having fun with it too same as us. "Oh you guys," he'd say, "getting me into situations again," before laughing it off and getting out of it, so it was enrichment for our shared enclosures, and as time went on, the situations got more intense.
The trouble is, it turns out that putting a man in too many situations eventually gets the police interested. And not local hobsknockers cops either; they was like, proper three-letter FEDs. They put out a bounty on any information pertaining to his capture and everything. It was good money too so I thought, hey why don't I put J in another situation he can wiggle out of like always (and he'd wiggled outta worse before, so I thought this one'd be relatively mild), and at the next boardgame night (cause it was too late to do anything special for this one) we can buy some extra strong booze and get absolutely blitzed while having a giggle about the situation.
Boardgame night, and we were playing some social deduction nonsense or another and he says: "One of you is gonna betray me tonight." and I can't help but think, looking back on it, that he knew. It's stupid, I know he was talking about the game, but the way he said it, it was like he knew. We all felt it, and we had a big round robin round the table taking turns promising that we'd never betray him. And I said it so easily cause I thought it was true. Sure, I was gonna talk to the feds about a bounty; but, I fully expected my big beautiful oily boy to wiggle his way out of the trouble I was 'bout to cause, and that's not a betrayal. I wasn't lying. I didn't think I was lying.
My big beautiful oily boy didn't manage to wiggle his way out of it. They killed him and I got my blood money. He's gone.
He's gone and I'm devastated, crying, mourning. I loved him so much. We all did. And I can't stop thinking that it's my fault: that I'm the reason he's gone. and it is. and the guilt is eating me up inside. and I just need to talk to someone about it. So, I tell the rest of the group what happened in the group chat, hoping they'd understand that I didn't want this. I didn't want the government's blood money. It was supposed the be a prank. some joint enclosure enrichment. He was supposed to wiggle out of it like he always does... did, i mean.
They call me, among worse things, the asshole and kick me from the group chat. And, I know it's my fault he's dead: I know that. If I didn't do what I did, he wouldn't be dead right now. But, I didn't mean it for it to end up this way. He was supposed to be okay, damn it. I loved him. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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dyaz-stories · 29 days
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JUJUTSU BOYS + PDA
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how the jjk boys are when you're in public with them
including: gojo, nanami, choso, yuuji, megumi, maki
word count: 3.6k (500-600 words for one character)
cw: intended as canon compliant, established relationships, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, public demonstrations of affection, can't think of anything else tbh
a/n: been reading some fics in this format so wanted to try my hand at it again. it's been years since I wrote short pieces like that, so I hope you'll enjoy them!
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GOJO
Gojo has no concept of personal space, and that is something you had to get used to since you started dating — if anything, since before you started dating. Even when the two of you were at a more flirtatious stage, he’d always be leaning towards you to talk to you, face inches away from yours, hands on your hips if he needed to move past you, arm casually around you if you were sitting next to each other. It was all the better if it flustered you.
None of this has changed, except that he’s much more extra about it now. Holding your hand while walking? Nah, that’s boring. He’ll have his arm around your shoulders, even if it’s not convenient given the height difference. He’ll also try to put his hand in the back pocket of your jeans, pout if you tell him not to do it. If you’re waiting in line with him, he has both of his arms around you, is resting his chin on top of your head, and wants nothing more than for you to lean back into his chest, relaxing into his embrace. You can both be doing totally unrelated things — you’re reading and he’s checking his phone — but you’re slotted against each other, and that’s how it is ideally for you.
You’re waiting for him to show up to your date when you feel yourself surrounded by familiar arms, and then his cheek is pressing against yours as he surveys the book you’re holding in your hands.
“Whatch’ya reading?” he asks, breath warm against your cheek.
“Just doing some research on emerging curses,” you say with a shrug as you close it and put it in your bag. “So, did you want to check out that new bakery?”
He hums in reply, and you wait for him to move so you can start walking.
He doesn’t.
“…do you plan on letting go of me?” you ask after a while, turning your head to look at him.
He pouts at you, inches away from your face.
“I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet…”
“We’re in public, Satoru,” you say, feeling your face heating up.
“So? Let ‘em stare. They might as well, if you ask me.”
You want to roll your eyes — one day, you’ll have to talk about that exhibitionist streak of his — but in the meantime, you just have to crane your neck a little to peck his lips. They’re soft, as always, and he follows greedily when you pull away, his hand coming up to tilt your chin up gently as he presses more kisses on the corner of your lips, then on your cheek.
“You’re impossible,” you say, badly hiding your laughter. “Let’s go, or we won’t make it to closing time. You’re late, by the way.”
He lets out a heartbroken sigh, but finally frees you, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you start walking towards the bakery. He keeps his strides short, so you don’t have to run to keep up with him, instead allowing you to keep a comfortable pace.
“Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m just too good at my job, they can never get enough of me.”
“Aw, poor darling,” you say. You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and bring it to your lips to press a kiss on the back.
He lets out a cough that doesn’t do much to disguise the fact that he’s getting flustered, and you grin, satisfied. Two can play that game.
Fortunately, neither Satoru nor you have any intention of forfeiting any time soon.
NANAMI
Nanami is a private man. There is no reason for the whole world to know his business, and he doesn’t feel the need to put his relationship on display for everyone to see. His softness for you is still plain to see in how gentle his voice gets when he speaks to you, in how carefully he chooses his words, in how fond his eyes are when he listens to you tell him about your day. He knows you like him holding your hand, though, so he’ll indulge you, especially when you’re walking by his side through crowded streets.
That is for practical reasons, of course. First, it just wouldn’t do to lose sight of you. Second, people tend to steer clear of him, his serious expression and his broad frame, and that means they realize quickly to steer clear of you. It has nothing to do with how soft your hand is in his, or how the way you use your thumb to stroke his skin sends shivers down his back.
“That’s a lovely restaurant,” you comment, eyes drinking in the elegant decor while Nanami is examining the menu.
“It had excellent reviews,” he answers, not going into details as to the great lengths he’d gone to in order to ensure that this date was as perfect as humanly possible.
“I’ve been in the neighborhood so many times, and I had no idea this was here,” you say. The place is very small, only a handful of tables, all of them now filled. You’re sharing an alcove with Nanami, creating some distance with other customers.
“There aren’t many tables available, so they don’t advertise much,” he explains as he sets the menu down. “But they’re known for their excellent cuisine.”
You give him a smile, then lean closer to him to kiss him on the cheek. Your lips linger just a little too long, and then you move them close to his ear, which is already turning quite red.
“Thank you for planning all that,” you say sweetly. “It looks wonderful.”
He clears his throat when you pull away, avoiding your eyes.
“Of course,” he answers, voice wavering imperceptibly. “Anything for you.”
And you know he means it, too.
Under the table, his hand finds your leg, large palm easily covering your knee while calloused fingers carefully rub your calf. You bite your lip, welcome the warmth that spreads in your body. You know Kento well enough to be sure that that’s as far as he’ll go, that he wouldn’t dare to do anything more in such a public setting, and that makes you enjoy the intimacy of the gesture all the more.
Later that night, while the two of you are walking out, his jacket is around your shoulder at his insistence — “It’s cold outside” — and he’s getting ready to call a taxi.
“Kento?”
He lowers the phone to look at you, and you push yourself on your tiptoe, hand closing around his tie to pull him down towards you.
It’s late at night, he tells himself. There’s no one around, he tells himself. That’s why he closes his eyes and allows himself to melt into the kiss, regretting it when you pull away too soon and catching himself before he grabs you by the hips to get you closer to him.
“I had a great evening,” you say. “Should we take this to somewhere more private?”
How much more merciless can you get?
“Certainly,” he says. “Just give me a second.”
There is nothing he can deny you.
CHOSO
Choso cannot wrap his head around what he can and cannot do around you. The rules for what is proper, what is acceptable, have shifted so much since he was last around, and he would die before he embarrassed you — or worse, before he did something that would make you push him away. He knows that you wouldn’t, and yet the fear is like a weight that tugs on his heart every time he thinks about it. He walks by your side, glancing at your hand that’s freely hanging between the two of you, and though he brushes his knuckles against yours, he just cannot bring himself to do it. It’s to the point where it’s the only thing he’s thinking about — and he just can’t do it.
Then you see something that catches your eye and you grab his hand and pull him with you in that direction, and he thinks his heart could just fall out of his chest. You make it look so easy, so natural, being with him coming as easy to you as breathing, and he couldn’t possibly ask for more. It takes him many other tries, many other dates, before he can take your hand in his. When he does, you glance down in surprise, then grin at him, and kiss his knuckles softly — and he’s so happy he could die.
“So,” you say, sitting on the park bench, knee pressed against his while you’re leaning into him to show him your phone, your hair tickling his neck, “that’s the movies they have on tonight. Think we should call Yuuji to ask him what to watch?”
“Hm,” Choso says, not really focusing on anything you’re talking about, not when you’re this close to him, “isn’t— isn’t that the one franchise he’s always talking about?”
You burst out laughing, then rest your head on his shoulder.
“No offense, babe, but there is no one in the world I’d go see a Human Earthworm movie for. Even if this one is supposed to have romance in it,” you shudder at the thought, “I’d like to go see something actually. You know. Watchable.”
Choso’s mind is going in overdrive. You’re so close, and he knows he should have gotten used to this by now. He isn’t usually like this, but some passers-by are looking — not necessarily being judgmental, though there was an old lady earlier who scoffed and shook her head, but… looking.
“Then I don’t know if Yuuji is going to be much help,” he manages to say as you keep scrolling on the cinema’s website.
“That’s fair,” you sigh, standing up from the bench, and even if he can now think again, he misses your warmth and your smell right away. “Well, maybe we drop the movie and just go get something to eat, what do you say?
“Sounds good,” he answers, standing up after you.
Hesitantly, almost clumsily, he reaches for your hand, fingertips brushing against your thigh as he does, then tightens his grip around your palm, ensuring that it wouldn’t slip away from you. You give him a fond smile, then take a step to get closer to him, and kiss him gently. His breath hitches, and his eyes dart around the mostly empty park.
“T-there’s people around,” he says quietly, and he hates that you step back to look around.
“Oh, sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”
He takes your hand to pull you with him, and you follow him through the grass as he finds a more secluded spot, behind a tree.
“There,” he says, and you chuckle at how satisfied with himself he sounds.
“Oh Choso,” you coo, leaning against the tree while you grab his shirt to pull him down towards you. His mouth is warm, eager, and his cheeks remain a fierce shade of red as he kisses you back insistently.
You would have missed the beginning of the movie anyway.
YUUJI
The thing about Yuuji is that any type of public demonstration of affection feels so natural coming from him. It’s almost never meant to be suggestive, it’s not something he thinks through, it’s just something he does. You’ll be sitting with Nobara when he appears, and he just puts his arm around you while talking to her, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re walking with him when he lifts his head up like he’s forgotten something, and what he forgot was to hold your hand, silly him.
If you walk by him while he’s sitting, he’ll grab your hips to pull you in his laps, fingers rubbing circles on the skin of your arms, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he holds your hand. After all, why wouldn’t he? He doesn’t even realize that it flusters you, and it just feels so natural for him to show his affection like that. He’ll look at you with stars in his eyes while you speak, not seeming to realize that his face is so close to him while you’re sitting in his lap.
No one pays attention to it anymore. You arrive just as Nobara is starting the movie — she’s putting on an action movie, thank you very much, even if Gojo just bought the collector edition of Human Earthworm 4 for Yuuji, with the director’s cut — and with all the students crammed in the room, including Panda, who’s taking most of the space on the couch, there’s nowhere left for you to sit.
“Come here,” Yuuji says cheerfully, waving you towards the armchair where he’s found his spot, “it’s about to start.”
You glance around the room for a reaction, but no one is paying you any mind. You walk over to him, perching yourself on one of the arms, legs over his. He doesn’t seem puzzled by it, just puts an arm around your waist casually.
Of course, you end up still sitting in his lap eventually, just slipping in it at some point in the movie. Can you be blamed? He’s warm and comfortable, and he wraps both arms around you so he can tuck his chin in the crook of your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek when he turns his head. Not that he seems to notice how it makes your pulse quickens, eyes focused on the movie.
“What are the themes even supposed to be,” he mutters under his breath, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.
“’Military good’?” you suggest quietly as a guy gets blown up on screen.
“The first half of the movie was about military bad,” he protests. “They can’t just act like that never existed.”
“Would you two shut up,” Nobara shouts from her spot, “or Maki will come beat you up!”
The two of you pipe down, knowing the threat is very serious and not one to take lightly.
When the movie ends, everyone gets up, stretching, but you’ve gotten comfortable against Yuuji’s chest, and you don’t feel like doing that just yet.
“That was terrible,” Yuuji comments, and you let out a brief laugh. Gojo has somehow made a cinephile out of him, and you love how worked up he gets over that stuff.
“Yeah, we should have been watching Human Earthworm 4 instead,” you say.
“Exact— oh, you’re making fun of him.”
You giggle, then tilt your head to kiss him. For a second, he freezes, eyes going wide. Kissing is the one thing he rarely initiates — but when you do, you get to see his gaze soften, before his whole body goes soft. His hold on your waist tightens — and then a pillow thrown with impressive precision hits him, and only him, on the ear.
“Not in public,” Maki shouts from all the way into the kitchen.
“Hey,” your boyfriend protests, “I’m not the one who—”
“You’re such a traitor,” you gasp, struggling to pull yourself free from his arms — but it’s no use against his strength, and he refuses to let go.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Now, where were we?”
You might have been at fault for the first pillow, but that second one is all on him, as far as you’re concerned.
MEGUMI
Megumi is a private guy. He can be affectionate in public, but there is a side of him that he only wants you to see. He especially doesn’t want any of your nosy friends, or worse, his adoptive dad to see how he can be around you. They would never stop teasing him after, and he doesn’t think he could live with that.
Or that they could live with that. Because he’d kill them.
It does annoy him that he’s supposed to deny himself because of them. If it was up to him, he’d spend most of his time alone with you, preferably in a small house in the middle of a forest with no one around, no curses, no sorcerers, no nothing. That, sadly, isn’t an option though, so he has to find his own way to do things.
“Don’t move,” he says sternly. “You have something on your face.”
You roll your eyes, but tilt your head up towards him, as he carefully runs his thumb under your eye, then over your cheek, blowing on it once it’s done.
“What was it?” you ask.
“Just an eyelash,” he says with a shrug. “You’re good now.”
You study him, waiting for him to give something away, but he doesn’t, just staring at you with the same expression he always wears.
“Should we get going?” he asks. “I thought we were supposed to catch a movie.”
“Sure,” you relent. “We should get moving.”
The streets are quite full at this time of the day, and you have to step aside frequently to let people pass, sometimes losing sight of Megumi. Eventually, with a sigh, he grabs your hand, pulling you with him as he walks, sending murderous glares to anyone who stays in his path.
“You’re going to get lost at this rate,” he mutters as he pulls you with him.
“I mean, worst case scenario we meet back at the theater,” you say, and you grin at the offended look he gives you. He notices it, but doesn’t answer, a light pink dusting his cheek as he glances away.
He hates the idea of being away from you on a day that’s supposed to be about the two of you — but since he refuses to say the quiet part out loud, you get to tease him all you want.
To be fair to him, having Megumi as your scary guard dog does make it much easier and much faster to reach the theater. He gives you a pointed look when you get there, and, to your regret, lets go of your hand quickly, though his touch lingers there a second longer than necessary.
“Should we get a couple seat?” you ask innocently as you approach the register.
Megumi glares at you once more while you give him a sweet smile.
“It’s better that way, right?” he says, clearing his throat. “Otherwise strangers might have to share one.”
“Sure,” you nod, not even bothering to hide your grin. “It’s just more practical, right?”
“Right,” he says stiffly.
Even once you are in the couple seat, he keeps a thoroughly appropriate distance from you, one that you might find a little hurtful if, at the end of the commercials, he didn’t fake a yawn to put his arm around you, in the least smooth way known to man.
“You know you can just do it,” you say quietly as the lights turn off, resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go through all that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbles.
Reaching for his face, you tilt his head towards you, and push yourself to meet his lips for a sweet, soft kiss. For the first time since you’ve stepped foot outside, his whole body relaxes into yours, and he stops trying to pretend.
“You had something on your lips,” you whisper when you pull away.
He snorts, then quickly goes back in to steal one more kiss from you before the movie starts.
“Liar,” he says.
As if he’s one to talk.
MAKI
Maki isn’t a demonstrative person as a general rule. She does compliment you without hesitation, words falling from her mouth so genuinely that it never fails to fluster you, but physical demonstrations of affection don’t come easy to her, maybe because she received so little of it as a kid. She does it sporadically, and she does very much enjoy teasing you, loves knowing that she can get those reactions out of you.
It’s the more spontaneous gestures that get to you though. She’ll kiss your forehead after a battle that left you bruised, a way of comforting you. She’ll pat your head after you managed to pull an impressive move during training. On one occasion, when you got injured, she carried you in your arms to Shoko, demanding that you be taken care of right this instant. She’d been the one to get flustered after that, hiding her face in her hand in embarrassment when it was brought up later on.
It might not come easy to her, but she does love it when you do it — when you show her your love in that way.
“You’re late,” she scolds you when you reach her for one of your dates, needing to take a second to catch your breath because you’ve been running since getting out of the subway.
“Sorry,” you say between deep breaths, “there was an emergency.”
Worry flashes on her face immediately.
“A curse? Were you hurt?”
She reaches for you, tilting your face towards her as she examines it, then study your body to make sure you weren’t injured. You let her, surprised at first, then endeared.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she frowns once she realizes how soft your gaze has become.
You grin, then push yourself closer to kiss her. You don’t care that you’re in public, and though it wouldn’t have occurred to her to do it, neither does she. The kiss is sweet, gentle. I’m alive, you’re alive, it says. No need for more.
“See?” you ask cheerfully. “All good. Now, I’m pretty sure you were going to buy me dinner…”
She clicks her tongue, but she’s grinning. It’s nice to see her so at ease, so relaxed. It’s a side of her you’d never see within the walls of Jujutsu High, nor on a mission. You’re the only one that can bring it out of her, and man do you love it.
“I’m buying? Again?”
“I did almost just die.”
“Nice try, but you told me you were fine.”
“I’m fine now,” you insist, “but…”
“Well, I was disowned by my family, so I don’t have money. You’re buying.”
The two of you keep bickering, but, as you walk, you reach for her hand. She pulls away at first, years and years of reflexes kicking in instinctively, and once she realizes what you were doing, she’s the one who takes your hand in hers. She holds it delicately, careful not to break it — to be fair, her strength would probably allow her that.
It’s so sweet and light, being out there with you like that. So normal. She hopes it never ends.
You squeeze her hand, and she lets you guide her across the street, content with just following, knowing that she can trust you to fill in her shortcomings in the relationship, like she does it for yours.
The sky is grey, the forecast said it might run later tonight — Maki’s planned an umbrella, she’s sure you didn’t think of it — but as far as she’s concerned, the day is as beautiful as it could possibly be.
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this is my first time writing for... pretty much everyone here except gojo lol. i hope you enjoyed it and that the characterization wasn't too off, but any feedback is welcome! if you want to support me and my writing, please reblog/leave a comment or send me an ask, i'd love to chat! i'll see you later for some more jjk writing ^-^
you can find my gojo x reader work here
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lxvvie · 2 months
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Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Parenthood Edition:
Thinking it's so cute the way your little bundle of joy scrunches up, especially when she's laying on you and/or Simon.
Simon's irregular sleep schedule making him the perfect playmate for little Miss Riley when she's up and at 'em at night. You remember walking into the living room once and watching Simon just walk around, daughter bundled up in her baby blanket in his arms, cooing and gurgling at her Papa, them having their own conversation, and watching Simon fall in love all over again.
Being hypervigilant to the point that every noise the baby makes prompts you to wake up and panic. The baby whined, you sat straight up in bed, only to see Simon staring at you in concern and baby Riley sound asleep on his chest.
Conversely, thinking something is wrong because you haven't heard the baby cry, waking up in a panic yet again only to be met with Simon and the baby looking at you crazy.
Simon officially becoming a bed for you and baby Riley. It's not uncommon for her to lay on his chest while you're nestled at his side and his arm is around you.
Absolutely, positively loving to put the baby sling on Simon and watching your big beefy lover tote the baby around in it. Also, taking a picture and sending it to the boys. The big bad Ghost? In a baby sling???? Huh. Looks cute on him.
Parental guilt, especially on Simon's end with him being gone on deployments. He made damn sure to see his baby girl take her first steps because he missed it when she began to start fully crawling.
Baby girl being captivated by the scars on Simon's face. And his crooked nose. Loves to grab at his face and you're amused by the way he scrunches his nose when she does so. Apparently baby girl is, too.
You and Simon playing with the baby and next thing you know, you hear a wet fart. Simon chuckles out of amusement and to keep from dying inside because he just changed her nappy. You conveniently had to go walk the cat and made yourself scarce. Meanwhile, baby girl is giggling and gurgling up a storm.
When she gets older, little Miss Riley loves it when Simon carries her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. She'll run up to him and go, " 'tato, Daddy! 'tato!" and next thing you know, there's a giggling toddler slung over her dad's shoulder.
Baby girl drawing a picture of her parents at school and Simon's shoulders are bigger than... everything else on his body. Even his head. You're so tickled that you framed it.
Similarly, sneaking one of her drawings into Simon's bag so he'll see it when he's gone. He does and it's all the more reason for him to fight like hell to see you two again.
Having to limit the amount of sweets you buy because Princess Miss Riley has inherited her dad's sweet tooth. Doesn't stop them from sneaking out to go to their favorite bakery.
Baby girl being the best helper ever around the house, especially when she walks on Daddy's back to help alleviate the stiffness.
Because she likes to draw so much, Simon promised his daughter that she can design the next tattoo he gets. Well, it turns into an entire project and you and her proceed to draw butterflies and other cute designs on his other arm. True to his word, Simon gets another sleeve tattoo with those same drawings. Cheers, luvs.
Simon being in the doghouse with little Miss Riley because he was supposed to wake up with true love's first kiss because you and Simon were reenacting Sleeping Beauty for your daughter. Simon may or may not have taken it a bit too seriously and dozed off. Your baby girl is now upset because this means Sleeping Beauty will never wake up again and no amount of treats from daddy can change that. Princess Daddy status has officially been revoked, Simon. For now lmao.
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lovebugism · 1 year
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Imagine rough sex with eds and you guys just break the bed and you have to tell wayne
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✶ ┄ BROKEN BEDS !
summary: you and eddie break his bed. the worst part is having to tell wayne. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader warning: smut! eddie being the cutest human alive! a wild appearance from uncle wayne! 18+ mdni! a/n: i need everyone to know that when i wrote this draft, i titled it "breaking bed" and it made me chuckle a lil. anyway, thanks for your request anon! enjoy xoxo
( MASTERLIST )
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when eddie muson fucks, he fucks like a wild animal
he grunts with each of his rough thrusts, brown eyes somehow darker with lust while his untamed curls cling to his sweaty forehead
and you just let him drill into you because, truth be told, you love him this way
you hold the backs of your thighs and keep yourself wide open for him while he fucks so deeply into you
he leans over you, one hand white-knuckled where it grips his headboard, and the other wrapped around your throat
not tight enough to choke you exactly, but to make sure your eyes stay locked on his as he fucks you for all your worth
the headboard slams into the wall in time with each of his thrusts, rhythmic bang bang bangs that you’d be scared are leaving a dent in the wall if eddie wasn’t making you feel so good
he tilts your jaw to the side to expose your neck to him
and he hides his face in the sweaty crook of it, seeking refuge there while he nips and suckles at the warmed skin
you just keep begging for him to go harder and deeper and faster as he fucks you more and more stupid
and eddie complies without question
he revels in the way you keen each time he pounds into you and how your face scrunches up and your back arches for him
your toes curl and your legs tense up so hard they start to quiver
and right when you’re about to come, the bed suddenly jolts and dips beneath you, accompanied by loud crashing sound
it scares the shit out of you and you squeal while eddie lets out a grunt of surprise
because his bed just fucking broke
and it isn’t the most surprising thing in the world, the thing is about as old as he is
but it does take the two of you off guard 
all you can do in the moment is laugh about it
and eddie barely wastes another second before he starts fucking you again
because his bed is already broken, who cares if it gets more fucked up?
plus he knew how close you were to your orgasm and you just look so pretty when you come <3
the worst part about it though is telling wayne
because there’s no way he’s not going to notice
and eddie can’t exactly sleep on a crooked bed
so he just comes up with the shittiest excuse known to man “so the thing is... i was… jumping on the bed…”
wayne furrows his brows “the hell were you doing jumping on your bed?”
“well, you see, i was just, you know… trying to… heal my inner child…”
“…what the fuck does that mean?”
but, like, obviously wayne knows
typically you’re good at keeping eddie in check and sometimes he can hear you saying you don’t want to fuck while wayne’s in the house
and that’s a part of the reason he likes you so much bc you don’t want to put him through that trauma
but you guys are young and in love and sometimes keeping your hands off of each other feels like the hardest thing in the world
so he knows exactly how the bed broke
but hearing eddie trying to lie about it is the funniest thing on the planet
shopping for a new bed frame is easily the most adult thing you and eddie have ever done
and the only one he can afford is a star wars themed one in the children’s section
eddie groans and acts annoyed about having to get one that’s so childish but you know he secretly loves it
because the headboard is shaped like the cock pit of the millennium falcon with lightsabers painted on the foot of the bed
you try to put it together without wayne’s help while he’s at work
and you’re like “how long do you give it before we break this one?”
“an hour if you wine and dine me first <3”
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have any blurb requests? send em here if you want!
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zmbiesuga · 8 months
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TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader
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sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?
warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty
notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so
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"I'm not wearin' 'em."
"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"
Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.
It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.
Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:
"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."
You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.
After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.
"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.
"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.
"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"
Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.
"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."
And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.
"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."
"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."
Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.
"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"
"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."
Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.
"What was that?" you ask.
"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."
"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"
"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."
You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."
Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.
It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...
You.
The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.
You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"
"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."
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yjhariani · 1 year
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When you arrived home, Simon was already waiting for you. He opened the door for you, hugged you hi, and kissed you welcome. Upon walking further inside, you were somehow being walked away towards the bedroom.
You stopped walking, you turned your destination towards the kitchen. Simon, immediately blocked your way.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Where are you going?” Simon asked back.
“To the kitchen, get some water,” you answered.
“I’ll get it for you, just wait in the bedroom,” Simon said.
That sounded very suspicious to you. Well, his body language was telling you that. So, you slouched your shoulders as you looked at Simon.
“Why?” you questioned.
“You just got here,” Simon cupped your face with one hand and rubbed his thumb on your cheekbone. “Maybe you’d like to rest.”
“You’re hiding Soap in the kitchen again, aren’t you?” you suspected.
“Not at all,” Simon insisted, gently pushing you towards your bedroom again. “Just wait, alright?”
“What’s in our kitchen, Simon?” you asked anyway.
“Nothing,” Simon promised.
“Let me go there, then,” you replied.
“Worried I can’t do that, love,” Simon sighed.
“Why?” you continued.
“No reason. Just—”
In a swift, quick motion, you managed to manoeuvre your way around Simon. From there, you rushed towards the kitchen with Simon failing to grab you in place.
Soon, you stood in the kitchen and saw almost most of the walls and flat surfaces were black, especially the area by the stove. One of the wooden chairs looked burned, too. Napkins were nowhere to be seen and one that was seen was camouflaged by the charred wall.
Simon caught up with you and immediately stood in front of you, putting his hands on your upper arms.
“I’ll get you the water—”
“What happened here?” you asked him. “Don’t say ‘Nothing’ because I’m looking at the damage. Did you play with grenades? Did Soap insult you too harshly?”
“No—I… there’s, uh—f…,” Simon exhaled as he looked down for a second before looking back at you. “I tried to cook something for you. I was thinking that I should be able to have a few tries if I started midday, but I forgot for hours and there was a fire.”
Seeing that you frowned, Simon moved his hands to your face. However, he retracted his hands immediately before gently placing them back on your face.
“Are you alright?” you asked.
“I’m fine,” Simon stated.
You put your hands on Simon’s wrists and moved his hands off you. You looked at his palms and saw redness all over. By the looks of it, it was likely that Simon touched something hot by accident—likely a pair of pot handles.
“I’m fine,” Simon repeated.
“Your hands are burned,” you pointed out.
“No,” Simon insisted.
You looked at him in disbelief.
“Alright, I’m sorry I burned the kitchen. I’ll clean up—”
“Sweetheart, you tried something, alright? That’s great and I love you for it, but you hurt yourself,” you cut him off. “You’re not fine.”
Simon did not respond at first, only locking his gaze on you.
“Did you do something about it already? You know what, I’ll go ask the neighbour for some aloe—”
“You love me,” Simon quietly said, but he looked surprised that he actually said that aloud because he did not intend to.
“Of course I do,” you sighed. “Now, let’s take care of you first, alright? We’ll deal with this mess later.”
“I’m fi—”
You cut him off with a finger on his lips. Simon moved your finger off his lips.
“If it makes you feel better, you could just kiss ‘em better,” Simon said. “I’m fine otherwise.”
“No,” you scoffed. “I’ll take care of them, okay? Just say yes.”
Simon took a moment before saying, “Alright.”
You gave him a smile.
“Thank you for trying,” you said.
"I'll try again," Simon said.
"We'll need a couple more kitchens, then," you teased.
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crheativity · 10 months
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SUMMARY: Someone's picked a fight with Prefect! But he isn't going to let anyone hurt you anymore. Not on his watch. Part 1! Part 2 with Vil and Silver can be found here.
WARNINGS: Uhhh Prefect (you) gets hit in the face & your nose bleeds. also blackmail.
COMMENTS: I actually wanted to write this firstly for some of my moots! I was gonna write more of their favourites but it accidentally got too long to put in one post, so I'm planning on making a part 2 tomorrow. Anyway, @azulashengrottospiano and @i-like-forgs, enjoy!!
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It must be raining.
You were just out in a storm. That’s all.
That would explain the crack of thunder that collided with your face and gave you a throbbing headache. The warm liquid blurring your vision and dripping out of your mouth and nose was just the rain, not some unholy mix of blood and tears. The chills that froze you where you stood was just humidity and the cold, not adrenaline and raw fear.
And yet, even with your desperate brain trying to come up with some reasonable explanation, the only thunderstorm you could see in front of you was a student you couldn’t recognise. Not with your head pounding like this. Not with the thunder in your ears.
There was something about the boy that scared you. That wasn’t uncommon - this school was full of terrifyingly promising mages. But the scariest thing wasn’t how he wielded his magical pen with deadly accuracy, or how strong he so evidently was.
It was just how much he seemed to be enjoying the mix of horror and pain, of blood and tears, that must have been so evidently and delicately splashed across your face.
His smile twisted as he raised his pen again, something in those cruel eyes of his setting off alarm signals in your aching head.
“This’ll teach you not to meddle where you don’t belong.”
The pen glowed, pure magic surrounding it as he prepared to shoot. His sadistic eyes were alight with entertainment. He knew what he was about to do. He didn’t care.
You squeeze your eyes shut and braced for the lightning.
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A chuckle and an arm wrapping around your waist made your eyes snap back open.
“C’mon babe, gotta run!”
Pulling you by the waist, the boy broke into a run. You stumbled for a minute, but soon followed after. He released your waist but gently took your hand, tugging you along, urging you to be faster.
A stray spell flew between the two of you.
The boy looked back, an uncharacteristic flash of annoyance creasing his brow.
He caught your eye and winked.
“Split card!”
A second boy seemed to appear next to you. He was an exact copy of the first - the same stylishly ruffled orange hair, the same piercing emerald eyes, the same practiced, perfect smile.
The same red diamond under his right eye.
“Hey, keep ‘em busy for me!”
“You got it, king.” The second boy - the product of Cater Diamond’s unique magic - winked at you. He planted his feet, whirled around and started to cast spell after spell at your assailant.
The real Cater Diamond pulled you along, into the school building. Together you ran, through corridor after corridor, passing empty classroom after empty classroom.
Finally, he slowed to a stop in front of a classroom you’d never seen before. Glancing around and putting his finger in front of his mouth in a shushing motion, he grinned at you.
“In here.”
He held open the door for you, shutting it behind the both of you as you looked around. There were all different kinds of instruments and sheet music scattered around, along with an abandoned satchel. You saw at least one set of drums, along with two electric guitars and one acoustic, amps, even some microphones and music stands.
You supposed this was the Light Music Club’s room.
Cater winced, scratching his nape. “My bad, forgot it was so messy here. Whoever that was won’t find us here, though!” He grinned at you, his smile fading when he noticed the condition you were in.
He took both of your hands and, holding you as though you were made of glass, led you over to an amp. He gently pushed you onto it. It was not the most comfortable thing to sit on, but that was not what you were focusing on.
How could it be?
Cater Diamond was standing in front of you. He glowed like the sun wherever he went, commanding your attention and leaving you blinded.
If he ever called you, you would gladly follow.
The light faded a little as he let go of your hands and stepped away. He walked over to the discarded bag on the ground and started rummaging through it.
“There’s gotta be something… aha, #jackpot!” Pulling out a packet of tissues, he made his way back over to you. Pulling out a tissue, he smiled hesitantly. “Do you mind if I…?”
You blinked. You had forgotten about the pounding in your head, which started to come back with a vengeance. Putting one hand to the side of your head, you gestured for him to go ahead.
He stood just in front of you, one hand cupping your face, the other gently trying to clean as much of the blood off as possible. He didn’t say anything as he went about his work, but there was a look in his eyes as he worked. One filled with kindness and empathy, soft enough to make your heart skip a beat.
He stepped back and, crossing his arms as though to survey his handiwork, he nodded satisfactorily. “The blood on your shirt will be hard to wash off, but the bleeding from your nose has stopped.” He gave you a strained - albeit gentle - smile.
You nodded and placed your hands in your lap, studying them instead of meeting the gentle emerald eyes you could feel searching you.
“Prefect…” he started, the hesitancy in his voice evident. He cautiously sat next to you and you glanced up at him. “Is- are you okay?”
You closed your eyes and leaned into him. He startled a little at your touch, then wrapped his arm around you. “I am now.”
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“My my, what have we here?”
“What… the hell?!”
That voice… wait, it couldn’t be-
Blinking rapidly to rid your eyes of the tears, you registered three things.
First, and most obvious, was that the thunderstorm was being contained.
Easily.
I mean, the new arrival held him as easily as a newborn kitten for goodness’ sake. He looked almost as twisted as your assailant, with pure glee in his yellow and olive-brown eyes, his wide grin revealing sharp, pointed teeth. He was evidently enjoying the student’s squirming.
“Got him! I wanna squeeze him ‘til he pops~”
The second thing you registered was the hand resting on your shoulder.
Looking up, you noticed another boy, practically a mirror image of the first. One hand was resting protectively on your shoulder, his other hiding his smile. He looked a lot calmer than the first, but his eyes - the exact opposite of his brother’s - betrayed him. The air around him was crackling with excited energy.
“Not yet, Floyd. I believe that Azul has something he wishes to say to him first.”
“Boo. Hurry up.” Wait.
Azul?
Looking around, you finally registered the third - and final - new arrival. Azul Ashengrotto, the head of the Mostro Lounge, was strolling towards the boy. There was something about him that was different. His curly hair caught the sun, making the silvery colour feel akin to pure, vivid white, as though it was glowing. From this angle, you couldn’t see the face you’d studied so many times - his enchanting grey eyes, or the beauty mark just below his mouth.
There was nothing physically different. So what was wrong?
Ah, that was it. He was angry.
“Do not fret, Floyd.” He stopped in front of the boy, directly in front of you. “You’ll get your chance soon enough.”
“Wh-… what the hell is wrong with you?!” The student shouted, twisting and scratching at Floyd’s arm in a desperate attempt to free himself.
“Wanna find out?” Floyd squeezed the boy tighter and he yelped.
“No! No thank you!”
“Well, at least you have some manners.” Azul drawled.
“What do you want from me?”
“This won’t take long.” Azul fished out some photos from his pocket and showed him. “Do you know who this is?”
“H-… how did you-?!”
“Unimportant.” He waved off the question as though it was simply one about the weather. “However, I believe that it would be in your best interests to leave the Prefect alone now.” “Hah… you’re trying to blackmail me?”
“Blackmail is such an ugly word. I am simply offering you a way out.”
“A way out?” The boy scoffed.
“Certainly. I believe if your mother saw these photos, you would be in a great deal of trouble, would you not? If I am correct, you promised her you’d be on your best behaviour this year. After all, one more incident could be enough for an expulsion, with a track record such as yours.”
“Hey-!”
“It’d be a shame for the school to lose such a promising mage. How about you meet with me in the VIP room tomorrow around 4 o’ clock tomorrow? We can discuss things in more… detail… then.”
The boy glowered but said nothing.
Azul sighed. “I’m a man of my word. As long as no harm will come to the prefect, no harm will come to you in the meantime.”
“Fine.” The boy spat.
“Very well, we have a deal then.” Azul took a step back. “Let him go, Floyd.”
“But he hurt Shrimpy! I don’t wanna~”
“Floyd. There will be plenty of opportunities in the future.”
Floyd complained loudly, but let the boy go. He smoothed his jacket, glaring daggers at you and Azul in turn. Then he whirled around and stormed off.
Three pairs of eyes now turned to you.
You blinked in return.
“Shrimpyyy~!” Floyd bounded over to you and squeezed you in a rib-cracking hug. “Did the bad man hurt you? Don’t worry, you’re with us now, Shrimpy!”
“Give them some air, Floyd.” Jade said and tugged Floyd’s shoulder, attempting to pull him away from you.
“Nooo-“
“Are you alright, Prefect?” Azul asked. He sounded worried.
Floyd and Jade exchanged conspiratorial smirks and Floyd let you go. There was blood on his jacket from where your head had rested against him.
The realness of what just happened began to set in. The pounding sensation in your head came back with a vengeance. “I-…” the world began to spin around you, and Azul grabbed you, panic in his eyes. You felt your legs buckle and he caught you smoothly. “Sorry- I just-“
“It’s quite alright. I will stay with you as long as you need.” Azul reassured you, although you didn’t - couldn’t - miss the quiver in his voice or the pink dusting his face. He pulled out a handkerchief and put it to your face. You took it and applied pressure to your nose, angling your head downwards in order to stop the bleeding, as Azul hesitantly rubbed patterns into your back to help you feel better. The sensation made you feel warm.
With a smile, you realised it wasn’t storming anymore. The sun had finally come out.
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♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥
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vendetta-ari · 3 months
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So, I was wondering if you could come up with some head cannons on what would cause the winged characters' (i.e. Lucifer, Lute, Adam, Valentino) wings to suddenly unfurl?
Heyy this ask was a lotta fun and I hope you enjoyy! I also added Vaggie to this bc she has wings too- either way, hope you like it anon!!
(Word count = 1255)
WARNINGS!! [probably our of character for vaggie, I've never written her before, SUGGESTIVE PARTS WITH VALENTINO, LUCIFER AND ADAMS, kinda angsty and cringe??
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Vaggie
》She can usually control her wings just fine, they don't usually unfurl without warning and they always stay hidden
》However, when she's upset they usually fly out
》 during an argument with her, she started getting all quiet before lashing out and yelling at you, her wings flying out
》Such beautiful wings too, a shame it had to happen at a time like this.
》She realized what she had just done and felt awful, a gut wrenching awful. she got misty eyes before tell you she needed to be alone for a bit
》 after a few hours Vaggie came running back to you, embracing you into her arms and hugging and holding you tightly
》her wings wrapped around you before she let out a bunch of incoherent sobs
》 “I-i'm so sorry I'm sososo sor-ry sorry- i-i really didn't mean to I jus- I just … I'm so sorry..” she was really broken up about it.. it was a big argument after all, so it made sense.
》 You sighed, taking her into her arms, and dragging her to the couch, accepting her apologies and telling her “It's okay, it wasn't anyone's fault. tensions were just high and- it's okay just let it all out m’kay? dear?” you said, your voice was shaky
》You'd be lying if you said Vaggie's crying didn't affect you, you tried hiding your tears, trying to be strong for her before a few tears slipped and you both laid on the couch.
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Valentino 
~ Like vaggie, he has good control of his wings and rarely use them
~However, his wings are a lot more sensitive.
~ his only real weak spot actually, that's why he usually just keeps them tucked away
~ poor you though, you didn't know, it's not really your fault for being so clueless.
~You were just done filming, and you stayed after. you and val were good friends and weren't ever really on bad terms so you always chilled with him after scenes and certain sets
~When you looked behind him his wings caught your eye, you almost forgot he was a moth and had wings, so you were pretty intrigued. 
~Oh but how curiosity killed the cat. walking up behind him you brushed his wings and ran your hands up and down them
~He shivered, turning around quickly to see you messing around with his wings. he was pissed, hes fucking killed bitches for pulling such bullshit stunts like this.
~But he didn't really wanna kill you, at least not yet, he chuckled as an evil smirk spread across his face. “Were these what you wanted to see mi vida?”
~His wings spread out, largely, they were probably double your size, you looked at them with awe before Val grabbed you by the wrist “Now. you should know not to ever touch these again. but since your so fucking dumb, I'll just have to show you a lesson hm?”
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Lute
*Lute, unlike the other two usually always has her wings out
*She likes showing em off, she thinks they're pretty
*And well, she's not wrong they are some of the most beautiful wings you've ever seen
*but the thing is, she always has them out. like to let them stretch and what's the point of hiding them? Shows how she's an angel, exterminator, and a bad bitch.
*So a better question really is, what makes Lute hide her wings? since she always has them out when and why does she put them away? two reasons.
*Well first answer is pretty simple, when she's in front of someone greater and higher than her role she'll put them away for the time being. It's just proper manners after all. Plus if she had her wings out in front of someone higher, they'd realize how much better she and her wings are, and let's not make others insecure now Lute.
*The other reason is a bit more complicated 
*When lute is feeling sad or down, shell curl up her wings behind her and wrap her arms around her knees and just curl up into a ball
*You found her like this once, and god were you so confused- you tried asking her what was wrong but to no avail, she barely gave you a response let alone an answer to your question 
*You sighed, assuming she just didn't really wanna talk about it. so you sat down next to her and rested your head on her shoulder, grabbed her hand and smiled “I'm here for you Lute.” you spoke softly. and you swear you caught a glimpse of lute blushing and smiling, but who knows- she denies it every time anyway.
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Lucifer
☆ Lucifer is 50/50.
☆While he usually has his wings kept tucked away behind him, he's no opposed to having them out, he doesn't really care
☆Whether his wings unfurl or not is usually random too, he doesn't even notice when they're out half the time too.
☆He'll usually use them to get things high up or travel from place to place, only for convenience purposes 
☆He doesn't like looking at his wings though, he's insecure about them, being a constant reminder of what he's been through, the poor fallen angel.
☆He has good control over them, they don't ever “accidentally” unfurl out when he gets mad or anything like that. he uses them only when he needs to
☆But you? oh no you're different. it's almost like their your wings with the way you have such control over them
☆By just a light touch the fluff up and out, they're usually unkempt by the way Lucifer doesn't like his wings too much, but you'll always fix up his wings for him, preening and brushing them for him
☆They will always fly out on cue when you two both end up on his bed after a long day, making out and leaving hickeys all over him
☆Fuck him infront of the mirror with his wings out
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Adam
-Adam is a lot like lute, where he'll have his wing our all the time, except it's even less likely for him to ever hide them
-For being the first man he is kinda unkempt though. 
-you always have to preen him and take care if his wings for him, keeping up his handsome and pretty wings
-If it weren't for you this idiot would just be walking around with messy and gross unkempt wings.
-He should really be thanking you though, he makes preening him so goddamn difficult 
-He always squirms and moves around, and he keeps his wing close to you, barely letting you touch them let alone preen them
-Adam hates when people touch his wings. he won't let anyone do it, your the exception however 
-and even being the exception he will be so stubborn with letting you touch them despite the countless times you've both done this, he will always be stubborn and difficult and he will never fully sit still and let you help him.
-He growls as you touch his wings, folding them around himself making it harder for you. as you groan in annoyance he reluctantly moves them a hit, making things easier for you “Just be fuckin careful bitch..” he mutters under his breath.
-Unlike Lucifer though, Adam will surprisingly try to hide his wings during sex. As said before he doesn't like people touching his wings so there's no real point for them to be out like that, he will fail though, and when he cums they spread out for a bit, before the post but clarity hits and he hides then once again, you can never win.
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-xoxo Ari
726 notes · View notes
jeansplaytoy · 11 months
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random connie headcannons because why not
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language, sexual(ish) parts, fluff.
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clingy afff!!! he follows you everywhere, you can’t even go pee in peace because he’ll hop on the counter and talk to you while you pee.💀 ur just like “bro, get out.” and he’s like “no.” and he keeps talking.
makes you do those ‘couple’ tik toks where they’re like at a hotel or something and he’ll just back up from the camera, show you off, and then kiss you and end the tik tok.
consistently play fights with you😭. he can’t go more than two weeks without messing with you or pinching you for no reason and then when you hit him too hard he’ll be like “ight bruh, I’m finna beat yo ass.” & body slams you on the bed or something💀.
tries on your wigs simply because he can. but he takes them off when you come home because he knows you’ll beat his ass.
this boy smacks your ass hard as hell, just to make you mad. enough said.
when yall are just chillin he’ll put his feet straight in your face. 💀 like really, and they don’t even smell bad, and he’s like “eat my toes” you’re like “what the fuck?” and try to move em but he won’t stop at all 😭
he picks you up at random times. like you’ll be on the phone with somebody in the kitchen and he’ll grab you by your waist and carry you to the living room, drop you on the couch, and mind his business.
kinda like the first one, you HAVE to pee together when it’s night time or he’ll get all sassy at you. he’ll be like “bae, wake up. let’s go pee.” and you’ll just agree and he’ll wait for you to finish and while you wash your hands he’ll do his business.
fake bangs you from behind every time you lean over somewhere. that’s why you always check behind you when you’re picking something up.
calls you ‘bruh’ and ‘bro’ when he’s mad at you, but he’ll never call you by your real name.
and again, no privacy. he’s all up on you every time you’re texting somebody or when you’re calling someone, he’s there, watching you with big ass eyes just to ask who it was.
will randomly say “i don’t care” in the middle of you telling him something until you punch him in his arm 😭.
grabs you by your neck and kisses you when you’re about to piss him off or when you’re mad at him.
gives you nicknames like ‘mami’, ‘mamas’, ‘ma’, ‘guapa’, and sometimes ‘peach’ cus that ass FAT🙏🏾.
is a big crybaby bro. ESPECIALLY to you. “mamaaa, my game not working.” and you’ll go downstairs to see what’s wrong. “what?” “my game ain’t working.” and he’ll look at you as you go over to his ps5, only to see, in clear day, that it isn’t plugged in. and you’ll look at him in the dumbest way ever. the worse thing about it is, this is not the first time it happened. 💀
when you hug, he’ll purposely put his hands right under your cheeks and grab your kitty. (i’m sorry LMAO)
can’t fall asleep without rubbing your thighs or your waist, but is laid out all over the bed when you wake up.
randomly grabs your boobs for comfort. (and don’t wear a tank top around him shawty)
;)
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forgot this was in my drafts 😕.
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bunji-enthusiast · 4 months
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Heya again!! <333 as per tradition, before I put an order, I want to say ty for feeding the PP fandom and I hope you're doing well <333 may whatever you're planning to write, original or fandom, be successful!
May I order a blast in the past, where the Hour of Joy hasn't started, Caretaker! Reader is yet again an employee at Playtime Co. and they happened to find out about the rejected isle and they were overwhelmed by the sheer cuteness and charm of the toys, they do kinda get why some of them were rejected but thought mostly they were fine.
For the sake of the plot, they got to keep the toys and bring them home with permission from the higher ups ( wow reader charisma 💯 ). As they're happily making their way back, Catnap noticed them carrying this unknown toy, giving it affection, and overall just showering it with love from the shadows and gets quite pouty about it. So much so that the rest of the smiling critters had to pry it out of him to tell them what he saw and oh boy, they too were quite pouty.
Dogday tries to reassure them that everything's alright and they agreed to " ask " more like interrogating the reader the next time they come in to work. When that happens, Reader is caught red-handed still giving that rejected toy their love and affection, Dogday sends the rest of the group off so he and Catnap could talk it out with Reader more privately. Ends with them getting the full story and the smiling critters getting their fair share of love and affection, especially Catnap who's by the way still pouting about the whole ordeal 😂
I really just wanna see this sleepy cat having someone else he could actually trust as a parent figure and him just getting worried that his place might be taken away by some rejected toy 🥹 ahhh I'm starting to love him more and more slowly,, the Smiling Critters are such babies and I love themmmm
Signs Of Love
Note || yesss insomnia kitty needs love, all of em need love 💕
WC || 1,931
Sypnosis || Misunderstandings occur, but as quickly as they come, they can also very much leave.
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You were quite the lover of many things, having been assigned to be a caretaker when your superiors saw how well you integrated yourself into the role at your interview. They are quite fond of you and all their other caretakers, since they know you all (you and the rest of the caretakers) are the only ones able to keep all the toys and children in line. 
Though the children were mostly left to the Playcare Attendants as the caretakers were more or less focused on the toys themselves. It was without a hint of a doubt, you certainly had garnered the attention of many toys. Some who liked you, though it really was the Smiling Critters who liked you more than most.
Yet when you found out about the rejected toys, you thought it was really saddening that they were even rejected in the first place – though you understood why – you just wanted to simply take them home with you!
Deciding to try and convince a higher-up to take one home, that is exactly what you did.
“Ma’am, please look at this adorable potato!” You held up the rejected toy in your hands, clearly enough for your superior who shrunk back in surprise against her recliner chair. She let out an exasperated sigh, recollecting herself as she adjusted her position on the seat.
“I am well aware,” She begins, gesturing to the rejected toy. “But by no means are you allowed to take it home, rejected or not–it is still company property.”
You frown as you search your mind for conceivable reasoning to convince your superior, you sigh as the toy falls out of your hands, landing on your lap. “W-well, maybe I could keep it for a little while?” You jump up, your hands landing straightforwardly on her desk. “Like a-a security precaution!” 
A frown adorns her face in return to your earlier one, crossing her arms across the top of the desk as gently as she possibly could. Appearing to be searching your face for any lying or incompetence, her shoulders slump in defeat. “Very well, if you insist.”
“Keep it.”
You let out a yelp of success, almost falling backward as you did so. You grin, an exasperated noise leaving your throat as you cautiously upright yourself, as to not uproot or accidentally change her mind in turn. Your hands make their way to your superiors, shaking them to be polite. “Thank you thank you! You won’t regret this.” You smile at her, then let go of her hand as she is left in befuddlement by the actions that had just happened. 
Normally you weren’t much of an extroverted person, only conversing and confronting social situations when necessary. But you had simply felt joy bursting through your veins at the accomplishment you had achieved, to convince a superior to let you keep the rejected toy! (One of the rejected toys at least, you couldn’t do much else for the rest as much as you wanted too) Now you were making your way back, rejected toy in hand and you had a lot of affection to give it.
Too bad it wasn’t alive as much as the other toys you knew were, but at least it was alive in your own heart.
A familiar figure in the distance resting on a rooftop had taken notice of this quite easily, may it be quite the discovery they had found. CatNap couldn’t let this go unnoticed, a strange pang resided in the depths of his hollow yet dense chest. The giant cat couldn’t pinpoint the feeling he felt, not knowing what name to put to the feeling he felt so strongly, like a parasite it wouldn’t leave him alone.
He felt a strange guise of loneliness, noticing how much you began giving the unknown toy such a sudden bout of affection and hugging. Even nuzzling it as well to boot, CatNap was jealous?
How strange, CatNap wasn’t entirely familiar with the concept of emotions. Even with how certain ones could flare up at times, depending in response to the situation, whatever one he may be in. CatNap got up, stretching his finely tuned legs. CatNap wasn’t prepared for the others to pry the information out of him, trying to figure out what he saw and knew. He almost felt a little intimated, but he was… in the sense very emotional–even beneath his sleepy and quiet demeanor.
Then he could feel himself justified for the guilt of jealousy.
Well, CatNap certainly did expect the outcry, all at the same time he truly didn’t expect it either. The group, he felt rightly justified in their emotions as he had reported it to them, he too was quite in earnest – very jealous of the unknown toy. KickinChicken spoke externally with the whole of his heart, “This sucks! Why does that toy get more love than we do?”
“I wanted a hug!” Bobby cried, sitting on the floor as Crafty had patted her back, trying to gently soothe her. The colorful unicorn too was upset, yet she hid it very well. Picky had remained quiet, just stuffing her face with an apple to conceal her upset, she had big emotions and wasn’t sure on how to deal with them unlike the rest of the Smiling Critters.
Hoppy on the other hand was pounding the ground with her feet, hopping around so as to not completely create noise. She was woefully upset too as it appeared to CatNap, he hadn’t expected any of them to take this information the way they did. But they had pried it out of him, He didn't know what they were expecting to hear anyway.
CatNap’s voice came out short and strained as he made an attempt to comfort any of them, “It’s ok–” His voice fell on deaf ears, CatNap huffed a puff of red air. His tail lapping about, then overlaying to rest upon his left leg.
Bubba was muttering to himself, rapidly tapping his feet. As if his intellect could formulate a reason as to why this had happened, alas CatNap knew the elephant was simply just trying to find reason in coping with his emotion.
Believe it or not, CatNap pays very good attention to all the Smiling Critters. They are his friends after all.
“Guys!--” The group still went on, continuously upset. No means of comfort getting through to them. “GUYS.”
His visibly noticeable purple fur rustled about as he sat down, noticing that DogDay was finally back in leadership mode. CatNap didn’t know what to do to calm them all down anyway, he was pouty and upset as they were. DogDay spoke slowly, “I’ll ask Angel what’s up, maybe we just don’t understand it fully. Okay?”
The group notices, finally relenting in defeat. None of them questioned him as DogDay always had a way with words usually, he wasn’t one to go wrong as he was the leader of the group for a very good reason.
As the group clamored to find you, you weren’t that hard to find surprisingly. Mostly as you were hard to find other times, they could all easily see that you were still found with the rejected toy. Sitting back on your chair that you had found, and giving it all the affection that had made a few members quite pouty.
“Guys, let's take it easy. Me and CatNap will talk with Angel alone,” DogDay motions for them to take their leave, holding out his hands before he elaborated. “Let’s not take it personally, okay? I don’t think it’s that complicated.” 
KickinChicken sighs, as Bobby and the other few do. They all take their leave, showing that Hoppy was still there. She points at DogDay, then CatNap who was confused by the predicament. A silent gesture.
Nothing weird boys, you got that?
DogDay nods at Hoppy, who finally leaves as she hops away to rejoin the rest of the group. CatNap taps DogDay’s shoulder, gesturing that he should take the lead on this chat. His own paw comes up to pat CatNap’s, “I know bud, but let’s not overdo this.”
If the sunny leader were to be honest right about now, he too felt a pang of jealousy at the lack of affection and attention that he hadn’t received like his fellow critters. 
You were aimlessly cooing at the rejected toy, happily partaking in giving it all manners of affection (nothing weird, ahem). It certainly had a charm and adorableness too it that you couldn’t ignore, you have no idea as to why the designers and superiors had rejected this design or any other one in the reject aisle that you saw for that matter. 
Suddenly you felt a creeping chill crawl up your spine, traveling thoroughly all the ways to your shoulders and sides. 
Feeling two taps on your shoulder almost had you jolting, causing you to turn around to see CatNap and DogDay standing right behind you, albeit very menacingly from your perspective. “DogDay? E-eh CatNap?!” 
DogDay waved his hands, trying his best to reassure you, “Sorry we didn’t mean to frighten you like that Angel!” CatNap nodded along with DogDay’s words, doing his best to affirm that fact. You sigh in relief, hand very visibly held to your chest.
“So..” You straighten your posture as DogDay and CatNap came around you and sat down, to really level with you at most. “What’s up? Anything bothering you or the others?” You shrug, jabbing a questioning thumb as you spoke, directly in the general direction. They both knew what you meant, but they had more pressing matters.
DogDay let out a breath, before he spoke as to steel his nerves. CatNap deadpans, directed toward DogDay, emotional expression clearly evident despite the restriction of movement his own mouth has. “Well, we just… uh, wanted to know what was up with you.” DogDay pauses, then pointed at the toy which was unknown to him laying in your lap.
“And that.” He emphasized, wincing as he searched your face for any reaction. Suddenly what had surprised the two was how you began to laugh and giggle, waving your hand as the other clutched your stomach.
“Ah.. I’m sorry.” You shook your head, wiping your face. “Were you boys… perhaps jealous of this?” A small grin plasters on your face, with convoluted happiness as you held up the toy in question.
DogDay felt embarrassed, looking away as to not stutter or speak any words. CatNap sighed in reprieve, laying his head upon his front legs. Those actions alone had answered your question that effortlessly. “I see..” You couldn’t help but try and stifle the giggle, they were simply so adorable.
Them, jealous? It’s so cute. You really couldn’t resist their pouty moods, so you calm them down, proceeding to tell them the whole story so they didn’t have a misinformed perception of the situation.
You happily spread your loving and hugs to all the Smiling Critters and CatNap individually.
Albeit, CatNap was a little embarrassed that he had saw your situation with the rejected toy incorrectly. Feeling as if he might’ve been replaced.
You had reassured him individually as you had taken your time with each of the members, “I would never replace you CatNap! There’s always room for everyone..”
“Even you.”
You grin, booping CatNap’s nose. He recoiled back as he had the set revelation, CatNap slumped as he gave in to your very touchy movements. Feeling your hands thread throughout his fur, CatNap was content that he now knew.
He really had no reason to worry.
He truly was loved.
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velvetsainz · 6 months
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summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] charles is in maranello but that doesn't mean he can't help. part one.
word count: 1.3k
content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), porn with a dash of plot, use of explicit language, phone/skype sex, masturbation, toys, overstimulation, praise kink, google-translated french (kay strikes again), fluff, i still really like em dashes
a/n: part twooooooooo! (you can totally read this before part i—this is just a sister smutlet ;) ) i've been really pleased with the response to part i, so i was super duper motivated to get this cranked out for you guys. there's mentions to previous encounters, and i'm very tempted to flesh those out in the future along with the allusions to future events. anyways, eat up! enjoy, loves! xx
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You could be a tease, but Charles Leclerc was a bigger one.  
“Charles, I swear to God that—”
“That what, chérie? Hm?,” he asked as he quirked an eyebrow to you, waiting for you to answer as he watched over the Skype call.  You let out a frustrated sigh, sinking back into the bed and allowing your thighs to relax once more.
“So impatient, mon ange…,” he chided, hand working slowly, lazily over his length.  You were on the doorstep of your climax when he’d suddenly cut the power to the delicious little bullet in your hand.  He’d been teasing you for a solid thirty minutes now, listening to soft moans and needy whines as he built you up before allowing your orgasm to recede away once more.
You scoffed, brow furrowing and lid heavy with need.  “Well yes, but-but–,” you stammered as you tried to think of some good reason why you just needed to come.  You couldn’t—no reason that would be particularly compelling when he was like this.
As much as you enjoyed your games with your fiancé, your thighs were beginning to cramp and you swore you were going to have to change the sheets now, too.
You’d gotten on your usual Wednesday night call, mood worse than usual.  It’d been a long day and you were just ready to put it all behind you, bury yourself in the fluffy duvet of your shared bed, and scroll TikTok aimlessly for a few hours to allow yourself the time to rot in peace.
Charles, on the other hand, had other ideas.  If he’d been there, he’d have happily buried his head between your legs until you couldn’t put together a coherent thought and the tension had melted from your shoulders and jaw.  Seeing as he was in Maranello, though, he had to find another way to get you in a better headspace.
Enter: the vibrator.
Well, a remote-controlled bullet.  One that he could control with an app on his phone, the bastard. Some men found toys in the bedroom to be a competitor, but the Monégasque saw them as an accomplice of sorts; they were friends, not enemies.
In the moment, though, the little fucker sure as hell seemed like an enemy to you.
“Please, baby,” you whined for him, pouting with glossy eyes to the camera, “you already know it’s been a long day.”
Charles hummed, taking pity on you as he turned the vibe on once more to a low-power setting. You took a stunted breath, eyes closing as pleasure rolled through you once again.  The sound went straight to his cock, angry red in his hand as precum leaked over the vice grip he held it in.
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you whimpered fervently as the toy kicked up another speed, sending you careening towards your climax.
“I wish I could be there, chérie,” he coaxed as he watched you start panting once again, breaths coming in stuttering bursts with whines trapped in the back of your throat. “J'adore entendre tous ces jolis sons, ma jolie,” Charles purred, pulling a particularly pitiful moan from you. He laughed as he ticked the power up another notch, “Oui—juste comme ça, chérie.”
You could feel your orgasm coming at you hot and fast, mouth falling open as your hips dug into the soft material of the mattress.  A tear spilled from the corner of your eye at the sheer sting of need coming into full view, one of your hands planting hard into the bed beside you as your eyes rolled back in reflex.
“Charles, please, I-I-I—”
“C’est bon, minette,” he soothed, his own desire starting to rear its head, “Let go—let it all go for me, mm?” He set the devilish little toy onto full blast, and you didn’t wait for him to rethink his offer.
You babbled half-coherently as something melted in the pit of your belly, washing over your senses until your ears rang and your legs buzzed.  You could feel your sweat pooling in the small of your back as loose strands of hair stuck to your forehead and neck from the matching sheen that covered them, and your partner had turned the bullet to its lowest power setting to nurse you through the aftershocks that rocked your hips.  You were well and truly dripping at this point, a small wet spot forming under you on the white sheets. You really should have put down a towel before you got yourself into this mess.
But with no warning, as you basked in the afterglow of a much-needed orgasm, the toy went into full power once more.  Your eyes shot open and hips jolted away from the sensation as you looked to the screen after a moment of realization.  “Baby, no, I–t-too sensiti—,” you started to whimper to Charles as you heard the sounds of his own pleasure growing more prominent.
“Yes, mon ange,” he said firmly, hazel eyes dark with pleasure, “Just one more—I know you can.”  He watches as your brow furrows once more and your hand disappears between your legs once again.  Never did he ever think he could be so jealous of a fucking hand.
You mewled as you fought the stuttering of your hips each time you pressed the toy to your already-aching clit.  Still, in no time you were there once again, and Charles cursed and muttered under his breath as he watched the show you put on for him.
“Merde—”
“Such a good girl, yes—”
“Going to fuck you so good—”
“Fuck…fuck—”
He grunted your name once more and came with a growl, jaw slack as he spilled over the fist that held him so tightly. Meanwhile, you were coming down with glazed eyes and parted lips, breathing hard as you let out a quiet “fuck.”
“Oui,” Charles agreed teasingly as his head dropped back behind him lazily.
Toy discarded onto the bed next to you, you rolled onto your side to face him on the video call. “Why do you have to work so far away sometimes?,” you grumbled rhetorically, pouting as your body pooled in one of his old t-shirts and your breathing started to match something more normal.  Your body had lost the tension it had been carrying, those dual orgasms working to relieve the stress you’d felt when you’d started the call.  Still, a toy was a poor replacement for the man on the other side of the call, and you wanted him there with you more than you’d wanted that first orgasm.  You hated making him feel bad about being away, but damn did you need to be fucked within an inch of your life right about now.
He tsked softly, lifting his head once more to see your pout.  “I know, mon cœur,” he nodded, adjusting the lid of his laptop to angle more towards his face, “but if I didn’t come to Maranello, I wouldn’t get anything done. We’d be like bunny rabbits—like Corsica.”
Memories of that trip came back, causing your tummy to flip at thought.  You really had fucked like rabbits on that trip, and no surface was safe from the fury of your shared lust. Nothing was sacred and anywhere that had just enough privacy was good enough for one to start tormenting the other with their fingers…their lips…their—
“I don’t see why that’s a problem,” you teased back, smile finding your lips once more as you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly.  One elbow helped prop your head up while the other hand rested between the soft skin of your thighs.
“My sunburn disagreed,” Charles chuckled as you found yourself laughing with him.  “I looked like a…a—what’s the word? Homard?”
“Lobster?,” you chimed in with a smirk as you remembered just how red he’d been. You swore you‘d slather a metric shit ton of aloe on him during that holiday. The way he’d keep you warm in the cold showers, though…
“Yes, a lobster,” he sighed, dropping his head into his hands at the thought.  “Chérie, it hurt so bad—and Carlos wouldn’t wouldn’t stop laughing at me in the paddock in Spa!”
“But you would taste wonderful dipped in butter!”
“You are an idiot, chérie.”
“And knowing that, you still wanted me to be your wife.  So who’s the bigger idiot in this equation, baby?”
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867 notes · View notes
crappymixtape · 4 months
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because of you • part three
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PART I • PART II • PART IV • PART V // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U •  P A R T T H R E E 🎶 thick skull ( re: julien baker ), paramore ft. julien baker
❝ GOOD GIRLS DON’T CRY & GOOD GIRLS DON’T LIE & GOOD GIRLS JUSTIFY BUT I DON’T ❞
“Think she’s okay?”
“Shh!”
“What? No way she can hear us back here.”
“Dustin, ‘back here’ is literally a seat behind her.”
Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.
For now.
And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?
Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the RV. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.
Of course they knew.
But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.
A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you glanced up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.
“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”
“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.
“Yeah, this is it.”
And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Creeping out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away, felt safe, and as Steve parked and the engine quieted you let out the breath you’d been holding.
❝ MAYBE IF YOU JUST GOT SOME GUTS WE’D KILL ‘EM WITH A THOUSAND CUTS AND SAY WE DID IT OUT OF LOVE ❞
Everyone piled out of the RV and got after their tasks. Pretended like preparing for the end of the world was totally normal and routine. Nancy and Robin sawing off the end of a shotgun. Lucas and Erica attempting to make spears from tactical knives and broom handles. Eddie and Dustin shoving each other around in the grass with their garbage can lids full of nails at their feet and none of it instilled you with confidence, but Dustin screaming No wedgies! did manage to pull a little smile out of you.
And for a split second it felt okay.
Laughter, the sound of birds, the feeling of the wind on your bare skin and all the green around you – so unlike the cracked and bitter feeling in the Upside Down and then your smile fell.
You wished He hadn’t shown you.
Wished Vecna had just left you alone. Wished for just a moment that you hadn’t gone to Max’s trailer and put yourself in the middle of all this, but then Eddie grabbed Dustin in a big bear hug and your chest squeezed.
Your best friend.
The reason why you had gone to Max’s trailer.
The reason why you weren’t going to run.
The reason this was all worth it.
“Ah, shit.”
Sat next to you, Steve sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The funnel in your hands slipping as you lost focus and liquid trickled down your hands and wrists.
“Hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped back his can of kerosene and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.
A string of curses were muttered under your breath, so much for homemade molotov cocktails.
Cheeks burning with embarrassment you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes searching yours, unsure and tentative. Moles dotting along his cheeks and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin gold like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze of him, you realized he was reaching out to you.
“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.
Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your pulse flutter against your neck.
“Uh–here, you can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, like he’d felt it too and hastily passed the cloth off to you, dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.
“Thanks,” you mumbled back.
It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up his can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hand in his and once it was steady began pouring again, eyes flicking over to look at you.
“I’m an asshole,” he suddenly admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.
“I didn’t say it,” you started and he chuckled under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like bonfires down at the quarry.
“Didn’t say you did,” he gently pushed back, lips still tugged up into a small, wry smile, but it faded the longer he looked at you. “Listen. I know we aren’t…well, I know I don’t have a great track record,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.
"No, really?" you said, all sarcasm, and he huffed another laugh.
“Hah hah,” he joked, weakly at first, and then his expression shifted more serious. “I just wanted to say that…well, that you have every right to be here it’s just–” the boy hummed around his words. Dropped his gaze down to where your hands met on the kerosene filled vodka bottle and put the can on the ground.
Talking to you like this, showing weakness and vulnerability, made him feel so exposed. Uncomfortable. Unable to find the right words and his tongue jammed into his cheek as he tried to decide just how honest he wanted to be.
With you.
“It’s just–everything about the Upside Down wants to kill you and it’s like–” he sighed heavy and carded a hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. How many more people have to die? You know?” and then he was looking at you again. Really looking, really asking, and for a second it made you doubt everything you felt about him.
Jock. Asshole. King Steve.
No second chances, remember?
“Can I ask you something?” you heard yourself say and you could feel the muddled mixture of nerves and frustration and anticipation buzzing under your skin. Everything you’d been holding onto all this time pent up and pushing against the wall you’d built around it. Waiting waiting waiting for you to set it loose.
“Oh–sure, yeah.”
“Why are you really here?”
Steve’s eyes grew wide and he sat back on his milk crate, hands squeezing at the tops of his thighs.
“Why am I here?”
“Yeah. Do you really care about Eddie?”
Steve’s eyes darted back over to where Eddie and Dustin were hammering more nails into their garbage can lids and maybe you were impatient or maybe Steve was stalling, but you didn’t want to wait.
“Cos you didn’t care about him before.”
“B-before? I don’t–what d'you mean–”
Steve was stumbling over himself now, struggling to own the words you put on him and frustration grew warm in your chest, but you tried hard to swallow it down. Tried hard to let him prove Eddie’s theory of change.
“High school, Harrington,” you started, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “Yelled at us in the quad? Tossed people’s books in the hallway? Threw fries at us in the cafeteria.” You paused, debated whether or not you wanted to tack more on, and then you thought of Tommy and it came out all on its own, “Let your friends say really shitty things to me.”
Steve’s gaze dropped down to his feet and he didn’t say anything at first, not a word, and you kicked yourself for even bothering to think he’d be able to handle it. Of course he couldn’t.
“You know what–nevermind,” you mumbled, capping your bottle and moving to stand, but his hand grabbed yours and pulled you back down onto your milk crate.
“Wait. Please?”
And the way he was looking at you was pained, the pinch between his brows deep, and it made you pause. Was Eddie right? The way Steve cared for these kids, for your best friend, showed clearly something had shifted in him, but was it enough?
“Wait for what, Harrington? So you can show me things are different now?” your voice was softer, but hurt, “Because Eddie swears you’ve changed, but you still sound just like Tommy.”
The mention of his ex-best friend felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. He knew Tommy was wrong now. Hell, he knew it back then too. Knew how fucked up it'd been in the parking lot at the school, but he hadn’t had the guts to say anything. Couldn’t stand up to him or tell him off because he ‘had a reputation to uphold’ and what would everyone else say if he went ‘soft on a freak’?
“I–I know. I fucked up. I get it and I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but–” he started truthfully, hand still holding yours, thumb shifting softly against your palm, “–but I am. Really sorry.”
Really sorry.
Finally. After all those years. After everything he’d said and done, but sorry didn’t fix it. Or take any of it back. Was it too late?
Reluctantly you pulled your hand away from Steve’s, his fingers flexing as they fell away from yours, wanting to hold on just a little bit longer but you weren’t ready.
“You know that doesn’t fix it, right?” you said quietly, glancing up at Steve through the long sweep of your lashes and guilt settled heavy over him.
He knew it didn’t fix it. Knew all too well that words didn’t mean shit, but he would be the first to admit he was a slow learner. Crawl before you walk. Hit your head and maybe something will suddenly make sense and when it came to you? Vecna had been like a sucker punch.
You were strong-willed. Didn’t take shit lying down. Were fiercely loyal to your best friend and just wanted to try to help and it had taken Steve a minute to realize – in your eyes he was still bullshit, but he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t going to be easy, not in the least, but just like you he wanted to try.
“I know it doesn’t fix it.”
His eyes squeezed shut so he didn’t have to look at you. Tried to make it easier on himself as he pushed through the discomfort of taking responsibility for his actions. Tongue running along his bottom lip, just like it always did when his brain was working overtime, he finally looked back up at you.
“I’m not asking you for forgiveness or–or to be my friend or anything. I just want you know I really am sorry. For all of it. Okay?”
Sitting there so close to him, your hands inches away from touching, holding each other’s gaze as you listened to the words falling from his lips in sincerity – it was almost too much. The wall you’d built around yourself cracking and straining against this new feeling that had settled in your chest, but the words wouldn’t come to you as your lips parted and you tried and pull yourself together but–
“Dammit, Eddie, no wedgies!”
Dustin’s voice cut through the silence that had settled and Steve reflexively sat up. Pushed himself away from whatever it was you’d waded into together. Away from sorry and the feeling of your hands pressed together and the look you gave him through the long sweep of your lashes and the way you made his heart race. Turned away from you and played it off.
“Hey! Less dicking around, more putting shit together!” he yelled at Dustin and Eddie flipped him off without looking.
“Like you’re doing anything important, big boy!” Eddie hollered back and the way it made Steve’s cheeks grow pink made your lips twitch with a smile you had to work hard to hold back.
“Shut up,” Steve muttered at Eddie, but mostly to himself, and stood from his milk crate to put your filled vodka bottle into the box with the rest.
You watched quietly as he placed the last bottle in and folded the cardboard shut. Muscles tensing and pulling taut as he worked, moving against the fabric of his shirt and you quickly looked away for fear of being caught.
Then your eye caught his nail covered bat tipped against side of the Winnebago and the threat of the Upside Down and all its nasties wrapped around you tight like a vice.
Oh.
Right.
The end of the world.
Just a few yards away Nancy pulled the trigger on her shotgun, the sound making you flinch, and it hit you like a ton of bricks – you had absolutely no clue how to defend yourself against this. Against Him. Against an army from hell. You knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the crotch and you’d always had an arm on you from playing volleyball, but none of that had anything to do with monsters. Or guns. Or nail covered bats.
“Uhm–” came out mumbled, more sound than word, and it pulled Steve’s attention up from the box.
“What’s that?”
“Can you–er–would you maybe show me how to swing that?” you asked and it made him turn to face you, giving you his full attention.
“What?”
Your cheeks grew hot.
“That bat,” you said shifting uncomfortably on your crate, “I don’t think–I can't shoot a gun.”
Steve’s expression softened as he remembered what it'd felt like the first time he saw a demogorgon. The first time he swung that very bat into the side of a demodog. The first time this world had been exposed to him and he knew how overwhelming and absolutely crazy it all felt.
Grabbing the bat in his hand he gave you a small smile and took the few steps back over to you.
“Sure. It’s not too hard. You know, just aim and swing.”
“Just aim and swing?” your tone was flat, all skeptics, a defensive move against his kindness and it made him chuckle.
“Well, there’s probably more to it than that, but those stupid bats are thick enough when they swarm it’d be hard for anyone to miss.”
Your eyes grew wide at the thought of swarming bats and it made him laugh again, a half-grimace pulling at his features.
“Shit, sorry. Uh–here,” readjusting his grip he bent his knees a bit and dug his heel into the ground. “Just make sure you get a wide stance, yeah? Like, hip width apart? And don’t be afraid to choke up on your hold. It’ll make your swings hit harder.”
He swung the bat and the sound it made as it cut through the air made your breath catch in your throat.
“Wanna try?” the boy held the crude weapon out to you and you swallowed thick. Stood up from your own milk crate and tentatively took it from him.
It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you thought it’d be, but smooth. You did as he said and slid your hands up a little further on the handle and tried a swing, but threw yourself off balance and stumbled forward.
“Ah, that’s okay. Here, uh–” Steve stepped in behind you and placed his hands over yours on the bat, “–try again, but follow through with your hip. Your grip’s good, just don’t throw your full weight forward.”
The warmth of his chest on your back made your cheeks burn again. Made your heart race. Hammering against your ribcage as he slowly took you through the motion again.
“Then when you get to the end of the swing, follow with your hip," his voice was much quieter over your shoulder, words falling into your ear and making you dizzy as he tried so damn hard to keep his focus. Placed a hand on your waist to guide it and toed your foot forward with his shoe as he took a step. “See?”
“Yeah,” was all you could manage, the feeling of his breath on your neck trailing goosebumps across your skin and you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way the closeness of him pulled your gaze and when you looked up he was looking too.
“Does that–uh–did that make sense?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and you nodded. A small thing that barely registered and he was so close now. Close enough his nose nearly brushed your cheek, getting closer by the second and–
“Harrington! Where are those bottles? I gotta get ‘em loaded up!” Eddie yelled from the other side of the RV and the space between you shattered. Both of you stepping away as though you’d touched a hot stove and you pressed the bat into Steve’s hands.
“Should probably get ready,” you muttered and he nodded, cleared his throat and took two big steps back to set the bat down.
“Coming!” Steve called back as he scooped up the box of molotov cocktails, bottles clinking against each other as he walked away and disappeared around the corner of the RV.
King Steve turned Steve Harrington.
Steve Harrington turned something else.
Something more.
Something you thought you’d written off.
Something that held you so tightly now it made you want to run, but at the back of your mind, somewhere soft and warm, you couldn’t help wondering what might happen if you didn’t.
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART THREE OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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donutz · 4 months
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Catnap & Dogday being silly with reader
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Request from Wattpad—! Here you go Zeki aph☆
—☆You are a smiling critter in this, if u want to know which one(but don't know what animal or insect to pick) you could start out as a sheep!
It’s early in the morning, and the kids have woken up(some of them, those are the early birds).
You and PickyPiggy help out with the breakfast, surprisingly you two never get tired of it.
PickyPiggy is very familiar with food so of course she won't get bored, but you? It can be confusing on why you never get tired.. Of cooking and baking for the kids.
Both of you cook everyday, at least for breakfast. Cooking over 500 pancakes, bacon(sometimes), and eggs isn't thattt bad!!
That's what PickyPiggy and you say.
So while you were cooking pancakes, you were by yourself. PickyPiggy already took care of the bacon. Seems.. Weird. Because y'know, bacon is pork. But she doesn't know that so let's keep it a secret.
You had 400 already done, just 100 left. Then you and Picky have to work together to set the table and place down the plates of food.
You finished pouring out the batter for a few pancakes then sat down somewhere on the couch.
You're cooking for all the kids, but the little ones come first. The little ones are 1-6, the youth is 7-10, then the older ones are 11-17. Why do the little ones wake up earlier? You're not sure.
Since there isn’t anything to watch except Smiling Critter videos. You decide to watch that. While it was playing, you kind of— zoned out..
‘Why don’t I have hands instead of hooves’?
Then Dogday and Catnap came out of nowhere.
“Sheepy”!
“...”
Dogday jumped on you while Catnap crawled on the couch and sat next to you.
“What’cha doin?!” Dogday asked, he was always so interested in what you do in your everyday life. It’s just a routine, sometimes it doesn’t always stick to that but it’s okay.
“Waiting for the pancakes to cook—” While you were speaking, apparently PickyPiggy woke up and wanted to check on the cooking.
“Oh that’s great! Your pancakes are amazing! As always!” Dogday always compliments you on your cooking.
“What’s the ingredients for em? Again..?” And for some reason he couldn’t remember the ingredients every single time you told him. But you don’t mind.
(This is a real recipe by the way you can actually make this, it’s how I make pancakes!) While making eye contact with Picky, you were stating the ingredients.
“So I first use 1 cup of pancake flour”(You can use any, I think, I’m not sure since I’ve been using the same one every time I make pancakes)
“Then a ⅔ cup of water(If the flour looks like it needs more water you can do a full cup!)” You were hand motioning to Picky to flip over the pancakes since they should be done by now. She did it so you don’t have to worry too much, now.
She’s taking care of the pancakes now that you’re explaining the ingredients to a very interested puppy, and a very much listening kitty.
“Then three slices of butter, after getting the pieces I put it in the microwave, for 30 seconds or 1 minute, depending on how big the slices were”
“And to add some yummy flavor to it I use cinnamon, as much as you want really, also if you want to make it really sweet, you can use milk”!
“After putting the ingredients together, you mix 'em up! And now you pour the batter on the griddle, as much as you want”.
“Also if it’s too dry you could add more liquids(any of them, the melted butter, the water, the milk) or if it’s too liquidy you could add more flour”.
“... Wow! Sheepy you’re so cool when it comes to cooking and stuff!” The puppy was wagging his tail at how amazing you were with your knowledge about making food.
Then he gave you a big hug, he was on your left side so you put your left arm around his back.
“Thanks—”
Then Catnap rubbed his head against yours while purring.
Even if Picky is still in the area, she’s too sleepy to process Catnap’s affection.
You didn’t want to sleep here on the couch so you suggested to the polar opposites that, “We should move to our critter bedroom or something”.
While you three were walking to the critter room, remember how I said that some kids were early birds? Yeah, and someee of those kids were out of their bedrooms. So you and Catnap had to deal with having them go back into their rooms, since Dogday isn’t too good at that stuff.
He sometimes gets.. Manipulated by the kids.. They reason with him and tell him that it’s okay to stay out of the rooms. Then he goes, “Okay!” It’s not annoying, but it is annoying that the kids were taking advantage of Dogday’s kindness.
After that frenzy, you guys were actually heading back to the critters’ room.
Luckily, the workers thankfully had sympathy for the critters so you all actually have a place to rest. Even if you don’t need to sleep.
All the critters, except Picky, were playing around in the room. Then your trio came in and walked in on a party. Like a teenage birthday party, it was actually crazy. And somehow Craftycorn was drawing during all of this??
Catnap, Dogday and you were going towards your bed, just sitting on it, watching the madness. There was so much laughing, the room could be mistaken for a bunch of 3 year olds.
Then, KickinChicken threw a pillow and it hit Catnap’s face..
The room went silent, though, Craftycorn was still drawing.
“Oh! Sorry Catnap! I’ll try not to hit you again”!
He slowly turned his head towards the chicken, looking scary as ever.
But then you scratched the underside of his chin with your wrist(since you’re a sheep and have wool) or if your critter actually has hands then you scratched under his chin with your hand.
“Sorry about him, continue.” And then the playing started again.
And yes, Catnap started purring.
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