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#and he knows Bad Things Happen (to him) (because of him)
kenntolog · 3 days
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im im the mood of angst, what about yorozu (the bitchass from loser gf reader cool bf sukuna series) comes up to reader and decided that reader isn’t good enuf for sukuna and bully her. angst and fluff please :3
𝝑𝝔 an: i hope u likeee thissss :>> sorry for it being almost a week late heh. read more here!!
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“i don’t know what he finds in you.”
you hear as soon as you come out of the toilet cabin, stilling as if slapped in the face with the revelation. yorozu gave you a once over before going to the sink to lean against with arms crossed over her chest. it’s probably evident from your constrained movements and the blood drained from your face, but you’re quite nervous now that you’re alone with her.
you ignore her words and repeat her steps, going to the sink to wash your hands. you try not to look at her, yet can’t stop yourself from eyeing her warily.
“you’re a nobody, y’know? not a match for him.”
you squeeze some soap into your hands, roughly scrubbing them together, while she takes a step closer to you. as much as you try not to let her words get into your head — it’s hard to face the fact that she somehow knows how your insecurities get to you and she is using them against you right now.
you continue focusing on your breathing and shake the excess water from your hands, looking around for paper towels. your silence seem to tick her off, you can tell, and a small barely evolved petty side of you wants to say some things back to her but you just can’t.
yorozu observes you silently and steps closer, but you’re already on your way to leave, shoving her shoulder unintentionally as you almost sprint out of the bathroom.
she is quick though, running ahead of you to stop you. her exquisitely decorated eyes look down on you, her indifference and satisfaction changing to anger and annoyance. long sharp nails dig into your upper arm, making hiss and stop in your place. with her free hand, she twirls a strand of your hair around her finger.
“you think you’re better than me, don’t you?” she smiles cruelly, her eyes wide, passionately burning with disgust. you feel your defence getting weaker, tears welling in your eyes as you try to get away from her once more. she’s relentless. “he’s gonna fucking leave you, doesn’t matter for me or for anyone—”
“who the fuck do you think you are?”
sukuna.
his figure appears behind her; face distorted in anger as he furiously paces over to you both, suguru running after him hurriedly.
blood drains from yorozu’s face as she lets you go abruptly and makes a run for it, but sukuna is quick to appear in front of her.
“i say don’t come up to me and you go to my girlfriend? are you that fuckin’ dumb?”
you don’t think you’ve ever seen sukuna this furious. and yorozu this scared. it’s a good thing that suguru is also here, clearly aware that some bad things might happen if sukuna isn’t held back properly. he almost lunges at her, but the long-haired male makes it in time to jump in front of him with a worried yet stern expression.
“i’ll deal with her, go talk with your girl.”
“no—”
“sukuna.”
one look at you over suguru’s shoulder makes him let go of his anger. giving yorozu one last murderous glare, sukuna breathes out and pushes the long-haired male to the side to stride over to you instead. you look so pitifully small and meek that sukuna wants to turn around and go wipe the floor with yorozu’s face.
“baby?” he approaches you carefully, putting his palm on top of your head to stroke it gently and make you look at him.
surprisingly, you are not crying, at least, not as much as he thought he’d see you because he is sure yorozu was running her mouth with no fear or anything. you sniffle continuously, roughly rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms.
sukuna leans down, his worried gaze scanning over your covered face as he patiently waits for you to put yourself together like the smart girl you are, “whatever the fuck she said, you don’t listen to her, alright?”
you finally put your hands down and let out a heavy sigh, staring up at him with bloodshot eyes and a small smile. arms wrapping around his middle, you pull him in for a tight hug and bury your face in his chest. slightly confused and a little wide-eyed, he stares down at you, hugging you back.
“i don’t care what she says, ‘kuna.”
ah, that’s what it is, he finally realises as his face breaks into a soft smile.
“good girl.”
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lemonlover1110 · 3 days
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒
Toji Fushiguro
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Pairing: Actor!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Warnings: MDNI!, smut, oral sex (m. receiving), spitting, vaginal sex, creampie, angst, family fluff, toji has like 50 kids (4) and tries to be a good dad
Summary: Toji's selfishness is getting in the way of your family. When he notices that your family is slowly falling apart, he does what he can to hold it together.
*Actually a long oneshot! for @ayyy-pee's collab
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“ACTOR TOJI FUSHIGURO SPOTTED GETTING A LITTLE TOO COZY WITH NEW CO-STAR”
The headlines are everywhere, it’s nearly impossible for you to ignore them. It’s not only the headlines but the pictures, the videos, the talk shows, the clear chemistry between them– And if that isn’t enough, the messages and calls you receive asking if you’re okay, are driving you insane. You don’t know how much more you can take of this.
Toji wanted to venture out of his usual villain role, wanting to do something more lighthearted, more fun. Whenever he’d audition for anything where he wasn’t the bad guy, he would get a simple answer: you’re not the guy we’re looking for. Truth is, Toji is too intimidating and lacks the look of the perfect picture man that they’re looking to cast in romcoms. You aren’t going to lie and say that you were bothered by this, because in fact, you were glad he wasn’t.
As selfish as it sounds, you were happy with the fact that Toji was getting stuck in the same villain roles. He’s already famous enough, and you have more than enough money, he doesn’t really need the lead role since it means that he’ll spend even more time away from his family. But you lie to yourself because if he got the lead in any other movie, you’d be ecstatic for him. 
The dreaded day came, and Toji got a call from his agent. An offer for a lead role in a new and upcoming romcom. It was hard for you to be happy for him, even though your husband was so excited to venture out of his usual character. ‘He’s going to kiss someone else’ was the first thought that came into your mind, and then you realized that movies nowadays are so much more explicit than just a kiss. 
Toji wasn’t supposed to, but he told you about a couple of things in the movie. He was so excited, and he couldn’t keep a thing from his wife. He told you of the characters, the plot, the scenes he was most excited about and the scenes he was worried about– The steamy scenes where Toji will be stripped to nothing with his tongue down another woman’s throat. 
Jealousy would consume you for the next months, realizing that your husband is going to pretend to be with some other woman; however, you can’t be too mad, since it’s all just happening in front of a camera. You’re the only woman Toji loves, you know so. You shouldn’t take this too seriously.
Until the relationship came off the cameras because the pair has undeniable chemistry, and the directors thought that hinting they were having an affair would make for great promo. You nearly begged Toji not to do it, but he didn’t listen. He wants to ensure the movie’s success, which you understand but it’s humiliating for you and your family.
You’re upset with him, and Toji knows this, but he’s allowed to be selfish. He’s wanted this, and he’ll do just about anything to make sure everything goes smoothly, he can risk having you mad at him for a few months. Although, he’ll admit that it sucks because you’re so cold with him.
“How about we take the kids and go out for dinner tonight?” Toji asks, watching as you get out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel. He wants to go on a date with just the two of you, but he also misses his kids. It doesn’t matter what Toji suggests either way, because you ignore him. He clears his throat, repeating, “How about we go out for dinner?”
“Huh?” You respond, acting as if you hadn’t heard him before, and Toji doesn’t know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. Toji repeats the question a third time and you proceed to answer, “I’m going out tonight, I can’t.”
“What are you and the kids doing?” Toji questions, wondering why he wasn’t invited. He guesses he knows why, but you should’ve at least tried to make the effort since it involves your kids.
“I’m going out, the kids are staying with the nanny.” You tell him, which makes his eyebrows perk up. Toji stands up from the bed, walking over to you. He hugs you from behind, planting a kiss on your shoulder.
“How about we–” He begins but you proceed to cut him off before he can even finish his sentence.
“I’m going out with friends. Without you.” You answer, removing Toji’s arms from your waist. You walk to the closet to find your outfit for the night, and Toji can’t seem to leave you alone, following behind you like a lost puppy. 
“You don’t have to be so cold.” He argues, and you pay no attention to him. You were clear that you didn’t want this to go this far, yet he let it happen. You can be as mad as you want to be with him. “What are you planning to do anyway? Cause a scandal to get back at me?”
“I’m allowed to have fun, am I not, Toji?” You respond. You simply want to go out without thinking of your husband and all the embarrassment his job is bringing. If it causes a scandal, then so be it.
“Then why are you so set on going alone?” He replies, and you scoff. You can’t believe the audacity.
“I just want to be away from you because you humiliate me.” You finally look at him, shooting him a glare. It shouldn’t hurt because he’s caused his own problems, but it still hurts to hear that from his wife, “I was upset about the movie, sure, but I knew you wanted to do it so I bit my tongue. This publicity stunt is too far, and I told you not to do it over and over again, but you did it. Fine. You’re an adult.”
“And? You know it’s not real.” He argues, which only ticks you off more. You won’t raise your voice because your children are wide awake, and you don’t want them to hear as you yell at their father.
“Do you know how many pity messages I’ve gotten? The amount of calls? I’m just the poor victim to all of them, and also the stupid woman that won’t leave her husband.” You respond, and he opens his mouth to argue that it’ll be over soon. In a couple of months the truth will come to light and everything will go back to normal. “The kids are getting teased about it too. Megumi is old enough to know it’s a stunt, but the other three aren’t.”
“What do you mean the two year old and five year old are also affected by this?” He questions in a mocking tone, which tells you that he isn’t fully believing you. You feel your blood boil, and you take a deep breath to keep yourself calm. You’re not letting him get the best of you.
“Well, considering that the ten year old can’t keep his mouth shut and tells the other two that mommy and daddy are getting a divorce, I’d say yes, they are affected by this.” You try to remain stoic, keeping your voice low and calm. Toji bites down his lip, his eyes going wide at the realization that his ten year old refusing to talk to him wasn’t just a simple tantrum. “I tried to tell him that everything is fine between us, but he didn’t exactly believe me.”
“Is that why they’re refusing to talk to me?” Toji’s demeanor changes, becoming somber in a matter of seconds. You end up shrugging, not really knowing why your son is acting the way he is, but you can only assume it’s because of it. 
“I’m not sure. Probably.” You don’t care to really find a solution to his problems since you’re upset with him too. He needs to realize that his actions not only affect him but also his family. You watch as the man walks over to the bed to take a seat and think of what to do with this new piece of information. And while you’re mad at him, you still love him and want to help him out one way or another. You focus on getting yourself ready while you tell him, “How about you take them out tonight? Explain to them that everything is fine between us and–”
“Will you come with us?” He interrupts you, making you click your tongue.
“I’m going out, you can deal with the issues that you’ve caused, alone.” You answer, and Toji furrows his eyebrows. He knows that he can’t exactly be too mad at you because you’re right, he caused his own problems. “Take them somewhere to eat, watch a movie with them, play with them. I don’t know. I’m laying it all out for you, Toji. You can decide what’s best.”
“What about you?” He asks, and you don’t even care to entertain him, sitting in front of your vanity to do your makeup. Toji has to repeat himself, and you sigh.
“Figure it out.” 
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“Ryo, are you ready?!” Toji yells down the hallway, but his ten-year-old doesn’t answer. Toji simply goes ignored, and the man tries to remain calm. Getting mad isn’t going to do him any good, yelling angrily at his son isn’t going to make Ryo any less mad. 
You left around thirty minutes ago, and Toji spent the entire time trying to convince you to stay; however, his efforts were in vain. You didn’t care enough to listen which shouldn’t really shock him, he’s still upset though. After you left, he began getting his daughters ready to go out, telling his sons to put on something comfortable since they’re going out to dinner.
Now that both of his girls are ready, he’s simply waiting on his sons. Toji knows that Megumi is somewhat ready, but he isn’t sure about Ryo. 
“Aimi, baby, can you wait downstairs while I check on your brother?” Toji asks his five-year-old, and she nods in response. Toji has to talk to his son alone, but he can’t do so with the two-year-old that’s on his hip. He knows that Aimi isn’t going to cause any trouble, but the little one that he holds is either going to get hurt or cause a big mess. He’s dismissed the nanny, and he can’t exactly leave her alone with Aimi. 
Before making his way to Ryo’s room, Toji walks over to Megumi’s door. He harshly knocks on the door and puts Emi down in front of it, as if Toji were the stork himself. Emi is about to run after her papa but Megumi opens the door, and she squeals when she sees her beloved older brother.
“What?!” Megumi yells down the hallway when he spots his father. Megumi picks up Emi from the floor, ensuring that she doesn’t run away.
“I’m going to talk to Ryo! Make sure she doesn’t get hurt!” Toji responds, and Megumi sighs. Not that he particularly minds, but Toji could’ve at the very least waited until Megumi had her in his arms. Megumi clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment before telling his sister,
“What are we going to do with him?” And she shrugs in response.
“I don’t know.” She answers, which makes Megumi laugh. He walks out of the room and goes downstairs to join his other sister. 
Toji stands in front of Ryo’s door. He knocks but he’s met with no response. Toji isn’t willing to respect his kids’ privacy, not when he pays for everything they have. Toji opens the door to the room, finding Ryo in his pajamas, playing with his console. Perhaps this would be the perfect time to have a heart-to-heart with his son, explain everything that’s going on– But would Toji really think of that right away?
“Change. We’re going out.” It’s an order, and Ryo doesn’t like it. He’s about to ignore Toji but Toji snatches the console that’s in the boy’s hands. “Don’t act like a fucking brat. Change. We’ve taught you better.”
“I’m staying with mom.” Ryo mutters, angrily getting out of bed to do as his father says. Toji won’t lie and say that the words don’t hurt him, but he remains stoic. 
“Hurry up. Your siblings are waiting.” Toji says before leaving the room, the console in his hand. He has to hide it before leaving.
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“No more.” Emi pushes her plate away after taking a few bites of the food she ordered. She’s barely eaten, Toji wants to make sure that at the very least she finishes a chicken tender. 
“Can you at least finish this, please? You’ve barely eaten, princess.” Toji asks her, but she shakes her head. Toji has to find a way to bribe her, but first he has to deal with Megumi and Aimi who bicker about… Something.
“Chew with your mouth closed, don’t be gross.” Megumi corrects her, but Aimi isn’t going to listen to someone who isn’t her mother… Occasionally she listens to Toji, but it’s rare.
“I don’t care!” She yells, and Toji’s face slowly gets red with embarrassment. People are slowly looking at the table– It’s funny because he really thought that having Megumi here would be useful. Instead, he’s yelling back and forth with his five-year-old sister.
“You’re nasty, Aimi!”
“Your face is nasty!”
“Will you two quiet down?!” Toji half yells. His eyes linger on Megumi, “Remind me how old you are.”
“Sixteen.” Megumi answers, reality setting in when he says his age. His cheeks slowly turn pink as he waits for his father to say his next sentence.
“And you’re arguing with a five-year-old? Loudly, in a restaurant, dare I add.” Toji says, and Megumi pushes his plate away because he’s suddenly lost his appetite. Toji hadn’t realized just how hard it was to deal with all four kids without any help– Well, three kids since Ryo isn’t talking. He’s not doing anything. Toji clears his throat before asking, “Do you like the food, Ryo?”
Ryo doesn’t answer, and it’s slowly driving Toji to his limit. He’s talking to everybody but Toji, the moment Toji addresses him, he goes silent. Toji looks at Megumi and points at Emi, “Get your sister to eat.”
“Ryo, talk to me. Your mom and I are fine.” Toji claims, but Ryo doesn’t say anything because things clearly aren’t fine– After all, everyone is talking about it. Toji is essentially ruining the family by running off with his co-star.
“Ryo, do you want my leftovers?” Aimi asks her big brother and he hums in response, taking the plate from her. Toji takes a deep breath to remain calm. Ryo technically didn’t even say a word, he just hummed in response, Toji can’t be mad about that. Then Aimi asks, “Do you think daddy will get dessert? I think they have ice cream.”
“The key lime pie is better, plus we have ice cream at home.” Ryo argues and Toji gets an idea on how to get his son to talk to him.
“Do you really want the key lime pie? I thought you liked cheesecake better.” Toji comments, and Ryo doesn’t answer. He proceeds to talk to his little sister, and Toji can’t take it. He slams his hand on the table and causes a scene, “For fuck’s sake, Ryo! Don’t ignore me!”
If all eyes weren’t on them before, they definitely are now. The cherry on top is Megumi who tells Emi, “See, he’s going to do that to you if you don’t finish what’s on your plate.”
Emi begins to cry her little heart out, and Toji lets out the biggest sigh. Curse the day he decided to have kids.
“I’m not going to do anything to you, Emi.” Toji says, but she’s crying and stuffing her face out of fear. Everyone is looking at him, some people surely recognize him. At least this fits the narrative that his family is falling apart, and while it was all a stunt at first, it’s starting to feel real.
It’s his fault, he can’t blame anyone else but himself.
“Finish up, we’re going home.” Toji sounds defeated, and he is. Taking the kids out to dinner should not be this hard. 
“What about dessert?” Aimi’s voice is filled with disappointment.
“Dessert isn’t happening because you kids don’t know how to behave.” Toji answers, and Aimi crosses her arms, a pout on her lips. Toji wanted to make things better with his kids, but unknowingly, he’s made them worse.
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“Night, night, princess.” Toji kisses Aimi’s forehead, but she doesn’t care to even acknowledge him. She doesn’t say anything, turning to her side so she doesn’t have to look at him. Toji sighs, “You’re ignoring me too, huh?”
She doesn’t say anything, which doesn’t really upset Toji. She’s just mad that she didn’t get dessert, tomorrow she’ll be fine with him again. He kisses her temple before telling her, “I love you.”
He knows waiting for an answer is useless, so he turns off the lamp and walks out of the door. Aimi will eventually get out of bed and run after him to apologize because she feels bad since she loves her daddy so much. 
Toji closes the door, and he looks for Ryo’s console. Once the console is in his hand, Toji goes to his son’s room. Toji doesn’t bother knocking because he knows he won’t get a response. Ryo has the lights turned off, trying to sleep since there’s nothing better for him to do. But Toji knows that the child isn’t sleeping, he’s just like you, he tosses and turns a million times in the night before actually succumbing to slumber.
“Here’s the console, kiddo. Thanks for going out with us tonight.” Toji says, putting the console on Ryo’s dresser before walking over to his side to press a kiss on Ryo’s temple. Toji hears some sniffling coming from his son, which makes the man want to fall to his knees and cry as well. 
Toji has four kids, he’s heard them cry many times before for trivial things. He’s never really felt this before with one of them because he really wasn’t at fault. He was doing things for their own good… But this time he’s doing all of this for his own selfish reasons. 
“My baby boy, please talk to me.” Toji kneels down by the bed, hoping that his son will finally say something to him. It’s killing him slowly, he just wants to talk to him. Toji doesn’t want his kid to hate him, but it feels like Ryo is slowly getting there.
“I don’t want you and mommy to get a divorce.” Ryo finally speaks up, and Toji’s heart breaks when he hears him call you mommy, considering Ryo started calling you mom the day he turned eight. Toji stops kneeling, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 
“Everything is fine between me and your mommy.” Toji says although it’s hard to believe. They’re not fine, but you’re not getting a divorce either. “We just have to talk things out, but we’re not getting a divorce.”
“All of my friends are talking about you and how you two will end up splitting.” Ryo finally sits up on the bed, and Toji doesn’t really understand why this is even a topic of conversation for Ryo’s friends, but it is and Toji has to deal with it. “And it’s your fault.”
It is, Toji can’t really say otherwise. But he isn’t splitting up the family– At least not by having an affair like the news claim.
“Ryo, I promise you that your mom and I are not splitting up.” Toji tries to reassure his son, but Toji isn’t all too sure himself. “We are having some issues, but it’s not because of what your friends are telling you. What they’re telling you is not real.”
“But–” He’s about to keep going but Toji has to cut him off. Toji can’t keep defending himself, he keeps using the same argument over and over again and he doesn’t know how many times he can actually say the same words.
“Did you ask your mommy about this?” Toji asks, and his son nods in response. Ryo has asked a million times and you always have the same answer. 
“Yeah… She said that you two were okay.” He replies, yet he doesn’t believe a single word of it. Toji is growing frustrated, but he can’t let it show. His whole job is to pretend to be someone else, to act out certain feelings and suppress the actual emotions that run through his body, he should be able to do that, right?
“Then why don’t you believe us? Your friends don’t know what’s happening in our relationship.” Toji points out, but that’s not enough for Ryo.
“I know mommy was lying.” 
“What do you mean? Did she tell you she was lying?” Toji’s confused. Ryo is ten, he’s not smart enough to spot a lie, especially from you. You’re a damn good actress, when you show your emotions it’s on purpose, and Toji doubts you were purposely showing your emotions.
“I was going to ask her something and I saw her crying…” Ryo confesses, and Toji furrows his eyebrows. He’s certainly hasn’t heard that, but Toji clears his throat before arguing,
“You do know that your mom has a completely different life and she could’ve been crying for something that doesn’t involve me, right?” Toji is sure that the crying had to do with him, but he isn’t going to let that be known. Ryo nods in response, since what his father says does make sense. Toji ruffles his son’s hair before kissing his forehead, “Next time you’re mad at me, don’t give me the silent treatment.”
“I won’t.” Ryo answers, although neither of them are too sure that he’ll keep up with his word. Toji stands up and gives the gaming console to his son, and Ryo wastes no time in taking it. 
“You can stay up late tonight.” Toji tells him, which puts a smile on his face. Toji also walks away with a smile on his lips, feeling victorious after getting his son to talk to him. Toji exits the room, gently shutting the door behind him.
Toji begins his walk to Megumi’s room, planning to check up on him. However, when his hand touches the doorknob, he feels a pair of tiny arms wrap around his leg. He looks down to find his five-year-old hugging him. He chuckles, “What’s up, Aimi?”
“Papa, I’m sorry. I love you too.” Tears are streaming down her face, feeling guilty about not telling her daddy that she loves him back. Toji picks her up from the ground, wiping her tears away and kissing her cheek.
“My little princess, I’ll get you some ice cream tomorrow.” He assures her, rubbing her back. She continues to wipe her tears because once they begin, they’re hard to stop. He takes her back to her room, reads her a story and puts her to bed once again. 
Toji continues what he was doing, checking up on his kids before going to bed himself. He waits for you, but it gets late. His eyes are closing on their own and before he knows it, he falls asleep. He’s getting old.
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“Toji, baby–” You’re calling out to him. It takes a moment for him to open his eyes, but they open rapidly when he feels you kissing his cheeks. It’s definitely nice to feel you kissing him after barely acknowledging him the last couple of days. Still, he can’t help but question,
“Are you drunk?” You keep kissing him. He doesn’t smell any alcohol on your breath, but that doesn’t really answer anything. He feels your hand go down his torso to his sweatpants. You’re just incredibly horny, that’s a good enough reason. Your hand goes to his sweatpants, wrapping around the base of his cock before lazily stroking it. “What happened to you? What have you done to my wife?”
“I just need you. Need you so bad.” You say in between kisses. Your lips are on his neck, and Toji really can’t complain. He misses your touch so much– But what the hell happened to you? You were barely talking to him a couple of hours ago; either you’re on something or something happened to you.
“What happened, baby?” He stops you. Your hand comes out of his hands and you get on top of him. Your lips go on his, your tongue quickly entering his mouth and pressing against his. You’re avoiding the answer, and Toji grows worried. You’re grinding on him, and it’s hard for him to have a clear mind when all the blood rushes to his dick. He doesn’t remember the last time he touched you. You’ve been so mad at him that you shut him down the moment that he initiates something.
Toji wants to enjoy it, and his body is but his mind thinks about the fact that nothing has been solved. He’s not done anything to apologize to you, so he immediately thinks that you’ve done something. It takes every bit of him to push you away even though he doesn’t want to. You’re so gorgeous while you’re on top of him like this, that he doesn’t want to ask the question but he has to, “What did you do?”
“What do you mean what did I do?” You furrow your brows, and Toji clicks his tongue. He can’t believe that you’re initiating something and he’s stopping it. One week ago he would’ve been beating himself up for passing up on this opportunity, but he has to know why you changed your mind. 
“You’ve been mad at me, and now you’re all over me when I haven’t apologized.” Toji points out, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. That confirms that you’ve done something bad, and his heart beat speeds up, thinking of the worst.
“I met a guy…” You begin and Toji’s heart breaks. He doesn’t need to hear the rest of it because he knows. Tears well up in his eyes and he tries to take a deep breath. Yeah, he knew his actions would have consequences but not this. “We flirted a bit, just having fun and then he invited me back to his place–”
“You don’t have to–” Toji is about to cut you off, and he’s reasonably thinking the worst.
“I didn’t go back with him. I remembered the amazing husband I have, how much I love him, how amazing he is at everything he does. I wasn’t going to risk losing you even though I’m mad at you.” You have to interrupt him before he gets into his head. You press a subtle kiss on his jaw before your lips go to his ear, “But if you see some headlines tomorrow, don’t get mad at me.”
“You scared the shit out of me.” He chuckles. He guesses he’s getting a taste of his own medicine, but he’s not mad after his initial scare. Your lips go back on his, but they don’t last long before moving down his neck and torso. Your mouth kisses to his nipple, your tongue circling around it which makes him bite down his lip. 
Toji is sensitive. Just about anything will make him cum. You continue to kiss down his body until his sweatpants obstruct your path. You desperately push them down, while Toji reaches for the lamp to turn it on. He has a particular love for watching you while you take care of him.
Your hand wraps around the base while you spit on his cock. You stroke his cock a couple of times before your tongue circles the tip of his cock. You take your time working him up before you lower your mouth on his cock, taking in as much as you can take.
If Toji had known that this is how his night would’ve ended by letting you go out, he wouldn’t have tried to talk you out of it. A pathetic moan leaves his lips, feeling your warm mouth wrapped around him. He’s missed this, fuck. 
He wants to push your head down, forcing you to take all of him– Which he normally does, but it’s not going to end well. Toji knows well that you’ll stop, and he won’t risk that tonight. This is a sweet treat that he doesn’t deserve, he’s not going to risk losing it. 
You try to take all of him in your mouth either way, tears building up in your eyes as you gag, eventually spilling and messing up the makeup that was already coming apart. This is what Toji loves, watching the makeup that you work so hard on, fall apart just for him. And you do it because you want to. Because you love the taste of him on your tongue.
You take him out of your mouth, using your hand to stroke his cock. Toji’s moaning with your every touch, it’s hard not to. You’re just so fucking perfect with everything you do that it’s hard for him to contain himself.
“Baby, please–” He sounds so pathetic. Toji is usually much meaner in this situation, but circumstances have obviously changed. He just wants to feel your mouth wrapped around his cock. “Use your mouth, baby. Please–”
“How can I say no to you?” You chuckle before your mouth wraps around his cock again. You take as much as you can take, your hand stroking what your mouth can’t reach. He’s shutting his eyes, moaning your name as his climax approaches. 
His cum hits the back of your throat, and you raise your head. You swallow it, sticking your tongue out so he can check it. Toji sits up, his hand going down to your chin, thumb into your mouth. The bit of submissiveness that you had witnessed quickly fades. 
“Who’s my good girl?” He asks, your tongue circling around his thumb. He wants to know what happened that has you so aroused, but as long as you didn’t get physical, he doesn’t care. He takes his thumb out, a string of your saliva connecting it to your lips. He orders, “Open your mouth.”
As soon as your mouth opens, he spits in it. You don’t waste a second before swallowing. Toji lips meet yours again, his tongue messily entering your mouth and pressing against yours. You readjust your legs, knees on either side of him. You’re grinding on him again, and the man pulls away from the kiss, not doing so without biting your lip first. 
“You want me to fuck you, baby? You need me?” He asks as you push your panties to the side. You’re aligning him with your entrance, softly moaning as you push yourself down on him. You can’t wait any longer, you desperately need him. You softly moan as he fills you up, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. You’re sure no one will ever feel as good as Toji.
“Was thinking so much about you, baby. I missed you, Toji.” You moan, throwing your head back. You give yourself a moment to get adjusted to him before moving back and forth on his cock. His cock brushes your sweet spot, driving you insane. 
Toji shuts his eyes, getting lost in the moment. He’s missed you so much too, but he can’t speak right now because he’s groaning. He can’t believe that he’s gone so long without you… He shouldn’t have agreed to doing that publicity stunt in the first place. 
“You feel so fucking good, baby.” Toji moans, his hands going to your hips as you move on him. He hands roam, looking for the zipper of your dress, pulling it down so he can take your dress off you. His lips go to yours, your moans translating into his lips. 
You’re bouncing on him, his lips going down to suck on your neck. You let your moans roam into the air, feeling overwhelmed with how good you’re feeling. Toji barely even tries and he makes you feel euphoric. Maybe you were having second thoughts, but then you remembered just how perfect your husband is.
Toji pulls out, putting you down on the bed. He puts your legs on his shoulders before sliding back into you. He sets the pace, much faster than how you were going. Your hands are gripping the bed sheets, loudly moaning as your husband pounds into you.
“You’re so perfect, baby. You’re everything to me.” He praises you while one hand goes to play with your clit. You’re almost at your limit, and he feels it as your cunt squeezes around him. He says through gritted teeth, “You’re so fucking tight.”
“Oh fuck, Toji– I’m gonna–” You announce, so close to reaching your peak. 
“I know, baby– fuck, I know.” He groans. You’re driving him insane, it’s the effect that you have on him after not being with him for a while. God knows he needed this.
You loudly moan his name, your legs quivering when you reach your high. It’s hard for you to last when his cock reaches deep, and reaches all the right spots. Toji can’t help but praise you when you come, “That’s my good girl, that’s my fucking good girl.”
Toji’s thrusts begin to get sloppy, even though he wants to stay buried inside you for as long as he can. His hands hold on to your hips, nails digging into your soft flesh. 
“Inside of me, baby, do it inside me.” You tell him, knowing he’s nearing his release. You need to feel his warmth in every possible way, and Toji isn’t going to turn you down, certainly not with this. 
Toji comes to a stop, groaning before filling you up with his warm cum. He stays buried inside of you until making sure every droop is inside of you. His lips go down to yours, kissing you as he pulls out. 
“I’ve missed you, love.” He says before you both get comfortable in bed. You’ll wait a minute before going to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 
“For the record, I’m still mad at you.” You say before kissing his cheek, causing him to laugh. You stand up, walking to the bathroom to take a shower before going to bed, and he follows behind because he’s truly lost without you. 
“You’re here late.” He points out, unsure of what to say next.
“When you don’t have the kids with you, things go surprisingly smooth… Speaking of, how was your night?” You get in the shower, and Toji is staring. He’s watching every single one of your movements, even when he tries to tear his eyes away, he can’t. You're just so perfect in every way, how can he look away?
“Why did we have so many kids? They made the night so difficult.” Toji shares, and he hears you laugh. It’s no surprise to you, you’ve handled the kids on your own so many times before, and you always swear that you won’t even think of having another one– But then Emi comes to you with her teddy bear and begs for cuddles which makes you reconsider.
“Welcome to my world.” You respond, and Toji chuckles. He lightly bites down his lip, debating if he wants to go back to bed. He really doesn’t, so he decides to join you in your shower.
“So you’re less mad?” He asks, grabbing your sponge and pouring some body wash on it. Toji kisses your shoulder before he begins lightly scrubbing your body. You hum in response, and he can only wonder what you were up to– But he can’t complain. He couldn’t care less what you were doing as long as you’re not mad at him.
“I’m still upset though, don’t get me wrong.” You say as you take the sponge from his hand and use it on him. You peck his lips before muttering, “My husband has still been misbehaving, I won’t forgive him so easily.”
Toji doesn’t know how to come back from that so easily, so he ponders his answer. He helps you clean up.
“I talked to Ryo.” Toji announces, and you cock your eyebrow. Before you can ask about the details, Toji explains everything to you, ending off his sentence with, “Why were you crying?”
“Life gets tough when your husband is allegedly cheating on you.” You answer, and Toji bites his tongue. You have said a million times how you hate this arrangement, and Toji has been too selfish to consider your emotions. It’s not like you’ve been silent about how much you hate this. He can’t exactly be too mad at the fact that you’ve been ignoring him when it’s deserved. 
“I’m sorry, baby.” Is all he manages to say. You turn off the water, and get out of the shower, Toji following your lead again, even though he’s barely washed himself. You have your towel wrapped around him, while he opts out of getting his towel.
“I think you’ll need a bigger apology, but I guess sex is good too.” You answer, but that’s not enough for him.
“I’ll call my agent and tell him that it’s off.” He says, and you stop in your tracks.
“No! You’ve already done this much, the premiere is soon. Stick with it for now and just clear up your name after.” You’re quick to object. That movie better do great after all you’ve been through for this. You’ve suffered for months, you can put up with some more judgment for another month or so.
“But now I feel horrible.” He responds, and you sigh. “I want to apologize.”
You take a couple of steps toward him, your hands meeting behind his neck. You kiss his lips before telling him, “Another little Emi will suffice.”
“Woman, how dare you?! After the night I’ve had, that thought makes my dick flaccid. Don’t you ever suggest having more kids!” He argues, and you look down. His words certainly don’t match his feelings.
“Are you sure about that?” You ask him, and he sighs. He isn’t going to lie to you, and he isn’t going to tell you that you’re right, so he does the next best thing, picking you up and carrying you to the bed.
You have a long night of apologies ahead of you.
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eddiesxangel · 1 day
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Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader
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TJ’s 2K Request celebration!
@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”
Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers
WC: 3.1k
I hope you enjoy!! 💗
“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”
A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.
You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.
“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.
“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.
“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.
“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.
You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.
“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.
You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.
“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.
Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.
You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.
Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”
You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.
“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.
Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?
That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.
“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”
“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.
“I just think— "
"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.
"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."
“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.
"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.
"Yes, you do."
"When have— "
"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"
"Sweetheart I—"
"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."
"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."
"I don’t want to."
"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.
You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.
“Woah, see my point exactly.”
“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.
Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.
The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.
Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.
You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.
That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.
“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.
“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”
“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.
“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.
Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.
So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.
You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.
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You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.
Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.
You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.
After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.
You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.
“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”
You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.
“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.
“Sorry, Angel”
Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.
“I didn’t know you stayed?”
“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”
“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.
“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.
“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.
“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”
You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.
Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.
“Oh god”
“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.
“You said it was demeaning…”
“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.
“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.
“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.
“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.
“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.
“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”
Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?
“You do?” Your eyes widen.
“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.
“Oh?” You were in shock.
“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.
“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.
“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”
“Kiss me.”
Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.
“Kiss me, Eddie.”
Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.
You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.
You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.
No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.
Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.
“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.
“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?
“I think we should slow down.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”
“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”
“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"
"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.
"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."
"Okay, Eddie."
Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.
You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.
Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.
hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.
"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"
“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.
Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.
Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.
“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.
“Can I taste you?”
“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.
Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.
“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”
“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.
Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.
“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.
“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.
“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”
“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.
“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.
You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.
“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.
“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.
Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.
Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.
When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.
Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.
You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.
When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.
You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.
The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.
“I want you,” you repeat yourself.
Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.
You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.
“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.
“Yes.”
He quickly got up and you moaned,
“What are you?- oh,” you blush
You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.
Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?
“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.
Cocky, shit.
“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.
“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.
“I have my toys.”
Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”
“Finally”
Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.
“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.
“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.
“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”
That made your pussy clench down again.
“Oh, you like that?”
You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.
“Noted”
You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.
“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.
“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.
You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.
“Harder”
“You sure”
“Yes, god yes!”
Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.
“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.
“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.
Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.
"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.
A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.
The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.
"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."
Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.
Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.
With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.
"That good, huh?"
"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.
"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.
"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.
"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "
Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites
@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv
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leqonsluv3r · 2 days
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husband!leon kennedy
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—re!4 husband leon x pregnant!wife!reader, a headcanon list
based on this one-shot request
masterlist taglist
an: decided to give you guys this hc list since you guys liked the oneshot so much, giving you guys a little peek of what happens after the oneshot. i’m finally moved and currently unpacking at my new place, i’ll be working on requests and opening them back up soon. hope you guys enjoy, pls reblog and like if you do <3
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husband!leon who buys you all the food your body deserves. anything for his wife and his growing baby inside of you.
husband!leon who helps you plan and decorate the nursery for your child. he’s just happy he gets to be a dad, especially with you involved.
husband!leon who drives you to all of your doctors appointments, always having tears pool in his eyes whenever he sees your guys growing child on the ultrasound.
husband!leon who always lets you pick whatever you want for dinner, even if it’s not something he wants. as long as your happy and you get what you want.
husband!leon who massages your swollen feet after you complain how much they hurt. rubbing your calves and legs just to make sure your comfy. he wants what’s best for you.
husband!leon who rubs your belly when you both are laying in bed together, pressing kisses to it and talking to the unborn baby. he knows the baby can’t fully hear him yet but he’s too excited.
husband!leon who helps you pick out stuff for the baby to wear after you find out the gender. cute little onesies and footies, stuffed animals and whatever else your heart desires. only the best for his wife and his baby.
husband!leon who hangs up all the ultrasounds up on the fridge like a kid displaying artwork, he likes watching his baby grow. he’s still having a hard time believing he’s a father even if the evidence is right in front of him.
husband!leon who will go down on you because you can’t even touch yourself, making you moan and whimper. he knows the hormones make you more susceptible and more horny, he doesn’t mind one bit. knowing he’s the one that gets to ravish you when you’ve been pent up.
husband!leon who loves the fact that he can still fuck you like your not carrying his kid, practically crying on his cock as he pounds into you, rubbing your swollen tits and pressing kisses all over your body, caressing your belly. he knows you love it, giving each other what you want.
husband!leon who is the king of aftercare, especially when your pregnant. he helps you take a bath afterwards. giving you bubbles and even going so far as to getting in with you and massaging your back.
husband!leon who watches you struggle with the simple tasks you used to do before you were pregnant. if you need something from a shelf because it hurts for you to reach, he grabs it for you. if you can’t stop crying over the most simplest things, he hands you some tissues and holds your hand. he’s supporting you the whole way through this because you need it.
husband!leon who lets you lay on the couch on days your not feeling the best, letting you watch whatever your heart desires. even if it’s something he can’t even stand like the bachelorette or some bad reality tv show.
husband!leon who watches you open presents for the baby shower. your happy, opening little onesies and gifts from your guys friends and family. watching your mom cry happy tears when you open her gift; your stuffed bear from when you were a baby.
husband!leon who watches you hug your mom, stuffed bear still in your hand and tears pouring out of your eyes. he knows that you have been dealing with a lot going through this pregnancy and he’s just happy that your getting some joy out of it.
husband!leon who lets you have whatever weird craving your wanting. even if it’s pickles and frosting or peanut butter and graham crackers. he lets you have whatever you want, within reason, letting you have the cravings that make you and the baby happy.
husband!leon who when your doing the dishes, your water breaks. he doesn’t think first, he acts. he gets the bag that he’d packed and grabs you. he’s nervous but he’s doing his best to push his own nerves aside and get you and the baby to the hospital.
husband!leon who practically speeds down the interstate to get you to the hospital on time. weaving through a couple cars and speeding, all the while your hand is squeezing his in death grip as he just tells you to breathe through the contractions.
husband!leon who gets you to the hospital in one piece, your hand almost breaking his where he holds it. letting the nurse guide you into the delivery room to get you prepped for labor. your eyes are wide with pain and nerves, leon just keeps standing next to you, holding onto your hand and pressing kisses to your head the entire time.
husband!leon who watches as you push, push, and push over and over again. your doing so great and he’s so proud of you, being able to bring a life into this world, he’s never seen anything like it. he just rubs your back, the doctor kneeling in between your legs and helping the baby come out.
husband!leon who watches as the doctor tells you the babies almost here, your exhausted frame trying to push the baby out the rest of the way. he mumbles praises into your hair and ear, telling you that you can do it. you can push the baby out, you can get through this.
husband!leon who watches you do the final two pushes, the doctor helping the baby come out. leon hears the small cries before seeing the small baby being cradled in the doctors hands, his eyes watering at the sight. he looks over at you and sees how exhausted but happy you are, your eyes watering just like his.
husband!leon who watches as the nurse cleans and swaddles your guys baby, bringing it over to you. your eyes crying big tears. the baby looks just like the both of you combined, having your eyes and his cheeks. he sits gently next to you on the bed, rubbing your head. he admires you and your guys baby, how beautiful it is. how you did it, despite you thinking you couldn’t, he knew you could.
husband!leon who gets to hold the baby for the first time while you rest, talking to the baby in soft whispers, the babies only soft coos in response. “i’m your daddy, yeah…yeah, i’m your daddy…” he murmurs and watches as the baby wraps the tiny hand around his finger. “so cute…so cute…” he smiles as tears leak down his face.
husband!leon who days after you’ve healed from having the baby, you all three get to go home. leon goes from room to room with the baby, showing it its nursery and giving it a tour, even if his child isn’t going to remember this. he does it all the same.
husband!leon who changes his first diaper in the days following, who does it with pride. knowing that all his practice of learning the past nine months are going to use. he lets you rest and sleep whenever you have time in between feeding and bonding with the baby.
husband!leon who loves that he’s a husband and a father, he gets to watch his child grow. he gets to have that luxury and it wasn’t something he always thought was possible. and with you, it’s more achievable and he loves you even more for that if it’s even possible.
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yumeboshi · 23 hours
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𝜗𝜚。..❛ #02. XXX!
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𐙚 topic。.hcs of random things that turn on hsr men
.。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive content, i wrote this with no brain, MINORS DNI
.。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and blade. I wanna write for my bootyhill but i need to study him more to get a grip of him lol
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#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ rebuking his argument in a fight
。i js know he would go crazy when you do this 。he’d find people who just agree with him as boring. To him it may look even insincere 。but you? countering his smartly crafted arguments with irresistible logic with your pretty brain, glaring at him as you do with those adorable eyes? 。this man would go from being mad to being horny. tbh he would have probably already been horny in the argument 。nobody can be more masochistic than he is
“ARE YOU STUPID?” You glare at your boyfriend who looks nonchalant as he idly examines the coin between his fingers. “Fucking look at me. Do you know what happens when you join forces with them? You’re just risking the IPC and it will eventually lead to your unfortunate befall.”
You continue barreling on furiously with concrete points. Every time you prove him wrong, his eyes dance and he tries his hardest to bite back the grin that plays at his lips as you rant on. You are so perfect, he thinks- he is nonetheless impressed at you, your wondrous little brain. Something snaps inside of him when he sees you focused on derailing his points, your lips moving quickly to spit out syllables. He feels a loud moan caught in his throat.
“I get it, I’m sorry, princess, I won’t do it.” he suddenly surrenders and you eye him suspiciously as he advances, hands sneaking up to your back. “Let’s talk this out in bed, ‘m gonna apologize to you there.” He says softly, giving you lovely kisses along your neck but the way his fingers dig into your skin lets you know he’s not going to wait any longer.
And you will be confused as hell, because although you did win the argument, you feel like you just lost something else, a hidden little game he never taught you the rules to.
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#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ whipped cream on your lips
。hear me out… i have a gut feeling he likes it a little too much 。ik it’s totally random but he will go nuts when he sees you bite down a particularly creamy cake that promptly smears its remains over your mouth- he tries to think of something more dignified, but he just can’t. His poor brain keeps returning to the most vulgar visuals of you. 。he will always point out whatever you had near your mouth when you two eat, because he’s such a clean freak, but anything with cream, specifically white whipped cream, he will be unable to comment on it and fall weirdly silent to he point you are confused why you not hear his scolding to wipe your mouth. 。he’ll just watch you eat dessert with a smile on your face as you savor the taste innocently. Unfortunately his brain is not, and he will start to feel his cock struggle under the fabric. 。”you have cream over your mouth, sweetheart. should i clean it for you?” he’ll sound restrained, like he’s being choked but his expression doesn’t waver. 。and after he found out his new obsession, he will literally only buy you huge whipped cream cakes for dessert.
“THE CAKE HERE IS SO GOOD.” You savor the taste happily and dig into the whipped cream cake and eat without much care. “Where’s it from?”
Sunday is too busy staring at you to register that. The creamy ring around your pink lips. It bothers him in a bad way. It’s making him feel like he is out of breath. His wings flicker wildly like a cooling fan, trying to blow off the heat that suddenly started to build inside his stomach like a raging primal flame that’s trapped by his own conscience.
You tap his shoulder gently and he snaps back to reality and tries to stare at your eyes instead, yes, lovely eyes, he thinks- your words phase in and out as he gulps, darting his eyes back to the cake.
“…the brand? The cake brand?” You ask again, frowning at his silence.
“Ah, yes, sorry, sweetheart. I was thinking of something else for a moment.” He breathlessly apologizes, the words spilling out a little too quickly like an excuse that makes your frown deepen in confusion— he closes his eyes and opens them again so the heat will ebb away. But his plans are obliterated when you take a portion of the cake and eat it, all while looking at him in the eye with curious doe eyes.
That’s when he can’t restrain himself anymore. He suddenly seizes your chin with his gloved hand, making you squeal in surprise when he practically devours your lips, licking up the cream residue around them roughly before shoving it inside your mouth with his tongue. The sweet cream melts when it gets to your mouth, mixing with his saliva that dips down your chin to make messy thick lines.
“It was from a shop at Golden Hour. I hope you like the taste,” he’d say as if he didn’t just feast on your mouth like a starved beast. “Me personally, i think it’s a tad too sweet.”
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#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིLADE ⇢ treating his wounds
。it’s ironic because Blade doesn’t want to be healed at all 。but how could he refuse you you’re frantically at his door with an emergency kit, worry written all over you- you are like a cute puppy that keeps following him around. 。he lets you do it reluctantly at first, grumbling about it inwardly 。but when you lift up his shirt with no hesitation to put gauze to soak in the blood, his muscles tense visibly, when your touch ghosts over his skin like tiny little lilies blooming in their wake. 。what have you done to him? He feels nothing but tension and something he didn’t want to register, something a little too pleasant to him. 。and at some point he will actually look forward to having his would treated by you. He still likes pain, but he likes your touch drifting over his bruised skin like an innocent butterfly way more.
“DOES IT HURT?” You softly pat the ointment around another fresh scar on his broad chest. It pains you to see that most of the scars are near his heart. You sigh like a worried mother. “You worry me.”
“I enjoy it,” he grunts in response, but his brain ran a quick recap. Enjoy what? The pain? Or your smooth touch?
“Stay still,” you say, and he does, as you carefully squeeze in another ointment into an ugly looking scar. His eyes never leave you the whole time, his muscles tense at the pain but otherwise he’s relaxed. His intimidating stare makes you scared a little, considering this mysterious man didn’t speak his mind often.
“I think that’s it,” you say, quickly trying to lower Blade’s shirt back- but the man grabs your wrist mid-action. You jump, confused. His eyes are unreadable but he states, “You’re not done.”
you frown in puzzlement. “I double-checked, im pretty sure I didn’t miss a spot.”
He lifts his shirt up and with his bandaged finger, cuts open the scar you just treated for him, making it ooze another layer of fresh blood around the dried wound. His lips form a rare smirk as he looks at your wide-eyed stare.
“There, you have a new wound to work on.”
He will do that until you are out of ointment, and the next day he will come visit you first this time with another set of fresh scars.
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loonylupinblack3 · 2 days
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Drunk Antics
Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: you find your teammate drunk at a bar and help him out
Warnings: drinking
Word count: 1.7k
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You were sitting on your bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media when a notification caught your eye. Your teammate's name, Lando Norris, was lighting up the screen so naturally you clicked on it, wondering what could have occurred in the few hours you’d last seen him.
You both went out for some drinks, along with some of the Mclaren engineers, but you’d left early and assumed your co-workers had the ability to get home safely themselves. Apparently you’d assumed wrong.
Your eyes widened as videos and pictures of Lando Norris filled your screen, all from the bar you’d left tonight. They consisted of a very drunk Lando dancing and cheering, taking shot after shot and drinking with strangers.
You nearly swore to yourself, sitting upright and looking at the media with more interest. His PR managers were probably going crazy, obviously unable to get into contact with him in this state but worrying actually going there was too inappropriate.
You winced at the outpour of damaging videos and photos. You knew your teammate would regret this in the morning, and you felt bad simply letting this happen. But could you go back to the bar and stop him? You’d only known Lando a few months, what with being a rookie, and though you were friendly with one another you didn’t have an extremely close relationship. Would picking him up from a bar cross an invisible line between you two? Would it be inappropriate?
You couldn’t very well leave him to his foolery though, because even now Lando would be facing a very long and arduous meeting with his PR managers as a best case scenario. If you let this go on, you’d hate to imagine what the worst case scenario could become.
With a sigh you got up, throwing on your jumper and grabbing your keys. Even if you were risking your relationship with Lando, you figured it would be better than letting his career possibly get destroyed. Who knew what he’d do when he was wasted?
You spent the short drive to the bar planning what you were going to say, because even though you’d decided the best course of action was to do this didn’t mean you weren’t nervous about it. When you arrived you parked your car and took a deep breath, feeling jittery, before leaving it and entering the bar.
Immediately there were cheers and loud exclamations, people pointing to you and laughing excitedly. No doubt many of them thought you were there to join the fun, to get as wasted as Lando and give everyone a show. Unfortunately for them you were here to do the responsible thing, and your eyes scanned the club for the other Mclaren driver.
You found him on a table, dancing and twisting, drink in hand and spilling it all over the floor and himself. His shirt was skewed to the side, as if he’d tried to take it off but gave up halfway, showing a great deal of neck and stomach.
Lando Norris had always had a wild streak, but partnered up with alcohol was a whole different story. Even knowing of his sometimes crazed behaviour, you hadn’t expected this. Suddenly your job seemed a whole lot harder than you originally thought.
Taking another deep breath you pushed through the crowd, murmuring excuses and apologies as you made your way to the front of the mob surrounding Lando, or more specifically the table he was on. More people gasped and pointed, their not so subtle whispers travelling around the room.
You ignored all of it, looking up at Lando with a determined expression. “Lando.”
At first he didn’t hear you and continued dancing, much to your embarrassment as the people around you laughed. You frowned and raised your voice, repeating your teammates name.
This time he did hear you, his head whipping around to find you before eventually his gaze found yours. A wide grin split over his face and he stopped his dancing, all attention zeroed on you. You tried not to squirm knowing most of the bars’ attention was on you too.
“Y/n,” he greeted breathlessly.
His drink splashed even more as he clambered down from the table, falling slightly. You gasped and moved forwards, hands on his chest to steady him. Lando’s grin widened. “What are you doing here?”
You couldn’t help but smile back, what with Lando seeming as happy as a puppy to see you. “I’m here to take you home.”
A confused frown made its way onto Lando’s face. “Home? But why?”
You almost laughed at his naivety. Lando was quite cute when he was drunk. “Because you’re kind of wasted, and it would be the smart move to go home.”
Lando’s frown deepened, lines wrinkling his forehead. “But there’s so much more to drink!”
You almost snorted. “Yep. We are definitely going home.”
Lando’s eyes brightened. “We?”
“Well I don’t expect you can get there yourself right now, can you?” you asked teasingly.
Lando smiled ruefully, aware of his intoxication even in his current state. “I guess I can go if you’re taking me.”
You rolled your eyes but something inside you fluttered, spreading warmth across your entire body. You let Lando stumble into you, putting his arm over your shoulder to balance him as you wrapped your arm around his waist. Feeling him flush against your side increased the flutters- you had never been this close to Lando since knowing him- but you ignored it and started walking back to your car with him.
There were a few heckles and disappointed shouts, people wanting you to continue the show not stop it but you ignored it, walking forwards, and Lando obediently followed suit.
You made it out of the club, ignoring the people’s jeers on your way out, and walked to your car. Lando turned and looked at you expectantly.
You raised your eyebrows. “What?”
“Can I have the keys?”
You laughed out loud this time. “No way you are driving.”
Lando pouted- actually pouted- and crossed his arms like a five year old. “Then I’m not getting in the car.”
You rolled your eyes at his antics but were surprisingly not annoyed by it or him. Something about him just made it all amusing, endearing even.
“If you get in the car I’ll take you to my place.”
Lando was already getting in the car before you could blink. You grinned and got into the driver’s seat, that warm fuzzy feeling returning. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with it so you just let it sit there, slowly enveloping you until you couldn’t help but glance at the man sitting next to you every few minutes, eyes tracing his face.
“I’m blind not drunk you know,” Lando said with a shit eating grin.
You started, glancing at him again before back at the road. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen your sneaky glances,” he teased. “You’re soooooo obsessed with me.”
You flushed, letting out an awkward laugh, keeping your eyes trained on the road. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Lando.”
Lando continued on like you hadn’t spoken. “But it’s okay because I'm obsessed with you too. Like, it’s not even funny how much I think about you. You’re a menace, you know that? I mean crawling into my head like that and staying there? Not very polite of you.”
You didn’t even know what to say in response to Lando’s rambling. You were smiling, your cheeks almost hurting from how hard you were but you couldn't stop. Lando just accidentally confessed his feelings for you and, well, it turned out to be a good night.
Lando seemed content to keep talking, though he did stray from the topic of his feelings for you to… whatever was going on in his brain. You were listening to him but even so it was hard to keep track of how fast he hopped from one topic to another, his mind a constant stream of thoughts and whims.
When you got to your house Lando was eager to enter it, waiting by the door leaning on his heels as he watched you walk up the driveway. You smiled at him when you got to the door, unlocking it and letting the two of you enter.
Lando looked around curiously, only stumbling a little bit as he explored your house. You followed him, trailing behind him silently as you watched his expressions, noticing how excited he seemed to be in your house, your space, looking at a side of you he’d never seen before.
“You need to go to bed,” you said, bringing him out of his musings.
Lando looked at you and cocked his head. “Where?”
You paused. “The couch?”
Lando made a face and shook his head. You sighed. “Alright then… the bedroom. I only have one bed.”
Even drunk Lando managed to be concerned. “Would you be okay with that?”
You smiled softly at him, the warm feeling in your chest settling down, getting comfortable. You knew then that it would stay there for a long time. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”
You led Lando to your room and helped him get undressed, taking his shirt, shoes, and trousers off, though he kept his boxers on. You got changed yourself- in your bathroom- and exited to find Lando sagging against a wall, looking tired.
“You want to go to bed now?” you asked him.
Lando bit his lip. “Are you sure?”
He seemed to be sobering up, slowly but surely, and you smiled at the repeated consent. “I’m sure.”
So you both got into bed, unexplored ground between you too, and immediately Lando’s arms wrapped around your waist. Definitely still drunk.
Still, you couldn’t help but relax into his hold, your back against his chest, his head in the crook of your neck. And you couldn’t wait for the morning, when he’d sober and you could talk about his confession, maybe even make one of your own.
Until then however, you were content to lie in Lando’s arm and let him nuzzle into your neck, falling asleep to the smell of your teammate’s cologne wrapped around you.
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chaoticallyfluffy · 3 days
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Shazam identity reveal AU where the league knew Captain Marvel was a child named Billy since day one but he stubbornly refuses to transform or tell his full name for the whole 4 years he’s been on the team and everyone’s so confused because they know like. 95% of his identity already why is he hiding this specific part?
They start thinking he’s some kind of criminal or had a dark past he’s hiding from them. They know so much about him, though. They know he’s homeless, they know he’s had bad foster homes, they know his parents died tragically and his uncle stole his inheritance. he shares everything. Everything except the one thing that would show he truly trusts them. Why? What have they done to convince him they weren’t trustworthy?
Then. He accidentally transforms back during a battle. Batman instantly scans his face with the facial scanner that’s built into his mask because he’s paranoid as hell of course he has one of those. And he sees exactly why he hid it for so long.
The tension in the air is so palpable that the entire league feels it and they look back and forth between them waiting for the bomb to drop.
Cyborg is the one who blurts it out (he IS a facial scanner)
“Your last name is BAT SON??”
Billy groans into his hands in defeat and Batman sighs, finally understanding why the secret was kept so desperately.
From then on the league refuses to call Billy anything other than Big Red Robin or just Big Robin. Robin but big. they call Batman Captain Dad at every possible opportunity. Whenever Billy does something wrong someone threatens to tell his dad on him then call Batman. The robins last names may as well not exist because from then on they are only ever called Damian Bat-son or Red Hood Bat-son or Stephanie Bat-daughter, except for Red Robin who’s called Little Red Robin or, if they’re feeling brave, the Little Red Cheese. The bat children and Billy’s nicknames become so confusing and meshed together that conversations get very confusing and the names just become interchangeable. The press is convinced that Captain Marvel is Batman’s secret love child within a week.
It gets so chaotic so fast, no one knows how this happened but names mean nothing anymore and Batman is getting a DNA test. So much opportunity for chaos!
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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all steve harrington stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, let me know <3)
a/n: so embarrassing please ignore this. this is the same post. i couldn’t edit it whatsoever. some links weren’t working so i deleted the original. so i apologize for doing this again and retagging writers. (had to split it into two parts)
MASTERLIST • STRANGER THINGS • 05/12/24
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✰ steve harrington ao3
✰ steve harrington two
✰ @upsidedownwithsteve
          ☾ give me a night, i'll make you
                    ⌗  Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before?
          ☾ my name is whatever you decide part 2
                    ⌗ old money steve, an infatuated waitress, no labels, a disaster waiting to happen. some smut, some jealousy and too many mentions of monaco
          ☾ she drives me crazy part 2
                    ⌗ summer camp, broken kayaks, too much tension and that boy you hate. an enemies to lovers camp counsellor story
          ☾ meet me in the afterglow part 2
                    ⌗ another year at summer camp, more broken kayaks, a change of plans, a lot of wondering. meet us in the afterglow.
          ☾ grumpy x sunshine
✰ @crappymixtape
          ☾ because of you part 2
                    ⌗ enemies to lovers
✰ @andvys
          ☾ I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss
                    ⌗ Steve was slipping through your fingers and you desperately held onto him not realizing that his heart wasn’t yours anymore. Dealing with the aftermath of your breakup turns out to be harder than you thought. Steve’s presence still lingers and while he keeps a hold of your heart, someone else sneaks their way into it too.
✰ @astermath
          ☾ second chance
                    ⌗ steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.
✰ @munsonson
          ☾ hurt feelings part 2
                    ⌗ 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.
✰ @lovebugism
          ☾ king!steve & shy!reader
                    ⌗ the one where king steve keeps his best girl a secret
          ☾ shy!reader
                    ⌗ steve finds out the cute girl at the record store likes him and decides to bring her ice cream as a proclamation of love
          ☾ comfort request
          ☾ king!steve & shy!reader
                    ⌗ steve comforts you when he accidentally makes you flinch
          ☾ shy!reader
                    ⌗ steve helps his shy gf celebrate her very first valentine's day
          ☾ shy!reader
          ☾ shy!reader
          ☾ jealously, jealously
                    ⌗ steve doesn't realize he's in love with you until he gets a glimpse of you with someone else
✰ @scoopsahoy
          ☾ more than just friends
                    ⌗ you and your best friend have gotten into the habit of making out, as long as there's no touching. but that's easier said than done
✰ @upsidedownmvnson
          ☾ tell me you love me part 2
✰ @starryeyedstories
          ☾ absolutely smitten
                    ⌗ There’s a new crew member at Scoops Ahoy and Steve might have a crush.
✰ @starcourtsteves
          ☾ the aftermath
                    ⌗ After the Battle of Starcourt, Steve and the Henderson siblings go back to the Henderson house for a sleepover so Steve and the reader are catching up/finally relaxing in bed (she was with the Kids and Steve in the Russian base). Dustin eventually crashes in his sister’s room for mutual comfort.
✰ @ashwhowrites
          ☾ angsty request
✰ @nervoushottee
          ☾ illicit affairs
                    ⌗ You wish you were enough for Steve, but he will always want Nancy.
          ☾ go for it
                    ⌗ Steve has been your “movie guy” at Family Video for a while now. Little does he know that the main reason you’ve been buying these movies is to flirt with him and just maybe ask him out…
✰ @harringtown
          ☾ stories tucked away
                    ⌗ AU in which the reader is pulled into the Stranger Things world. With the knowledge of how the story ends, they try to change the script and save the characters they’ve come to love. But this isn’t just a show, anymore, and destiny isn’t easily affected, even if that destiny was written by a pair of grown-up film kids (aka a self-aware reader, the same old gang, the same old monsters, eventual steve/reader, and a few surprises)  
✰ @fleurrreads
          ☾ right person wrong time
✰ @plainemmanem
          ☾ golden hour
✰ @loveshotzz
          ☾ comparing hand sizes
          ☾ i guess its never really over
                    ⌗ Convinced by your best friend to return to Hawkins for the summer, nothing is like how you left it five years ago, including the boy you’ve done nothing but try and forget.
✰ @luveline
          ☾ (its not like) hes my boyfriend
                    ⌗ Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore
✰ @fictionalthrill
          ☾ a stranger valentine
                    ⌗ Steve puts himself out there on Valentine's Day
✰ @princekeerys
          ☾ alt!reader
✰ @certifiedlovergirlsstuff
          ☾ do you want to be my valentine
✰ @stevie-petey
          ☾ oh, you didn't know
                    ⌗ steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.
          ☾ jealous!steve
          ☾ steve blurb
✰ @ash5monster01
          ☾ wrong address
                    ⌗ Three dozen roses have just been delivered to your door on accident, in attempts to find the sender and correct the mistake, you discover you might have just found your match.
✰ @lesservillain
          ☾ think i need someone older
          ☾ borrowing
✰ @handful0fteeth
          ☾ hot for teacher
                    ⌗ you’re going on your first date with steve harrington, and hours before he’s due to pick you up your best friend gives you some rather unsavory information.
✰ @keerysfreckles
          ☾ breaking the silence
          ☾ time after time
                    ⌗ steve's longing glance to y/n makes him decide to stay at the hawkin's middle school snow ball.
          ☾ reunions
                    ⌗ during spring break of 86, y/n hopper flies back to hawkins indiana (dustin's request) and isn't surprised when dustin tells her the world might end again.
✰ @captainmarvels
          ☾ where i lay down
                    ⌗ Steve has one year left to get you to talk to him, and he doesn’t realize how much he loves the game until you let him win.
          ☾ a case of you
                    ⌗ When you catch Steve’s eye from across the mall, all he can think about is you. Will he garner up the courage to say hi, or will your flirtatious banter remain an unspoken thing?
          ☾ home away from home
                    ⌗ When you and Dustin leave Steve alone for half the summer, he realizes just how much he loves his two favorite people.
✰ @jurassicbarnes-archives
          ☾ the keg stand
                    ⌗  In which you take a stand to protect your best friend’s reputation. 
          ☾ eventually
                    ⌗ In which you break up with Steve but a series of unfathomable events eventually lead up to you wanting him back.
          ☾ coy
                    ⌗ In which you make the first move (and Robin wins a bet)
✰ @slashersteve
          ☾ next best thing to an angel
                    ⌗ Reader has been cursed by Vecna, and the group has to work fast in order to find a way to rid her of it. There's too many close calls, and just when they thought they had it figured out...it just might be too late.
          ☾ stuck with me
                    ⌗ you and Steve have been through some tough shit, but it was always together. This time, it really seems like you’re going to die and Steve doesn’t want to die without telling you something first.
          ☾ some kind of disaster
                    ⌗ Reader and Steve have been together for a few weeks now, and she runs into a person she had a fling with once. That person was Billy Hargrove, and it’s the first Steve’s hearing of this.
          ☾ ahoy there
                    ⌗  Steve keeps striking out with girls, and Robin is having a time about it. The score for the day is 0-5, and then you approach the counter and suddenly it becomes 1-5. 
          ☾ lets kiss
                    ⌗ It might be the end of the world, and you're for some reason worried about having never been kissed. Steve decides to change that.
          ☾ five tickets
                    ⌗ Steve couldn’t pass up a chance to be able to kiss you, even if there is a price.
✰ @munsonluhvr
          ☾ how to fake it part 2 part 3
                    ⌗ In an attempt to cover up a lie and make his ex-gf jealous, Steve enlists you, his best friend, to fake date him.
          ☾ whats wrong with being confident
                    ⌗ king!steve harrington x confident!reader. after setting his eyes on you in the cafeteria, steve, and all of his ego, pursues you; though you don't fall to your knees quite as easy as the other hawkins high girls.
✰ @str4ngergirlw0rld
          ☾ angsty steve blurb
✰ @steveharringtonat3am
          ☾ grumpy x sunshine
✰ @buckylattes
          ☾ alone with....him
                    ⌗  You get locked in a store with Steve(thanks to him being an idiot) and you’re not sure how long it’ll take to get out…but something else gets out before you guys do. Thankfully it stops your arguing and hate for each other. 
hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3
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moonstruckme · 2 days
Note
hi mae!! how are you?
i recently burned my thigh with my iron curler and it formed a big scar. it started slowly bubbling up and i accidentally popped it like 2 days ago so now i have fresh skin open 🥲 it’s extra sensitive and i have to patch it up. and when i let the wound breath it HURTS 😭
i was wondering if you could write about this with emt!marauders? or maybe just james? idk lol whatever you feel like writing it about.
AND IF YOUVE WRITTEN ABOUT THIS ALREADY, MY BAD 😃😭
Hi lovely, I'm good! I'm really sorry this happened, it sounds awful!! Hope it's feeling a bit better by now <3
cw: severe burn (no details)
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 786 words
“I don’t think we should do this.”  
“I mean,” says James, sitting patiently opposite you on the bed, “I don’t love it either.” 
“Then let’s not,” you bargain.
 He gives you a sorry smile. “What do you think we should do instead, angel?” 
You take a deep breath. “Leave it,” you say on the exhale. “It’ll heal eventually. Or it won’t, and the bandage will become my new skin. I could be fine with that.” 
“I’m somewhat attached to your real skin.” 
“We all have to make sacrifices, James.” 
Your boyfriend gives you an amused look, but there’s worry beneath it. You feel guilty for putting him through this. It’s bad enough that he has to change your bandages for you because you’re too squeamish to do it yourself, but now you’re also making him convince you as if it were his idea. 
You blow out a long breath, tilting your face up toward the ceiling. “I can’t see it.” 
“You don’t have to,” he reassures you. “You can close your eyes, baby.”
“How bad is a little infection really?” you ask, but you’re already laying back, succumbing to the plushness of your pillow. 
“I had a dog bite get infected once,” James says, pulling your leg into his lap. Strong, gentle fingers on the underside of your thigh. “I didn’t enjoy it.” 
“You got bitten by a dog?” You turn your head to see him, but he shoots you a look and you sigh, covering your eyes with your hands. “When was that?” 
“When I was little.” One of his hands stays cradling your leg, but you feel the fingers of the other probing carefully at the edges of your bandage. Apprehension climbs up your throat, mingling with the ache of affection that’s already there. You appreciate how delicate James is with you, peeling the bandage up gingerly by one corner instead of ripping it off like some might. “It wasn’t really the dog’s fault, it was just spooked and I didn’t know enough to stay away.” 
You hiss as the bandage sticks to a tender bit of skin, and James coos an apology, stroking the unharmed skin beside it soothingly. Then the whole thing comes off, air hitting the wound and making you tense all over. 
“What happened with the bite?” Your voice is somewhat strained. 
James hesitates. “There was a lot of puss involved,” he says. “You won’t want to hear the details.” 
“Mm, thanks.” 
He chuckles. You can hear him twisting the cap off the antibiotic ointment. Your fingertips press harder into your brow bone. 
“You alright?” he asks softly. 
“Mhm. I’m ready.” 
You still gasp through your teeth when the ointment makes contact with your skin, and James grips your leg more firmly to keep you from flinching away. 
“Sorry,” he hisses, working fast as he can with gentle, caring fingers. “Sorry, baby.” 
“Not your fault,” you squeak out, keeping your own fingers pressed tightly over your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.” 
James doesn’t seem to want to accept your thanks, and you let the silence sit. When he’s done, you both sigh. 
“Thanks,” you say again. For good measure. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” 
“Definitely not,” James agrees. “I’ve no idea what we’re going to do when I’m hurt someday and neither of us can look at it.” 
You drop your hands from your eyes and sit up on your elbows, careful to look only at James and not down at your leg. It’s not hard. He’s a lovely sight, even with that sympathetic pinch to his mouth and worry tightening the muscles around his eyes. You reach for his hand, and his expression lightens. He wipes his fingertips off on his jeans before giving it to you. 
“We’ll have to call Remus,” you say, squeezing his fingers. 
A laugh startles out of him. “I thought you were going to say you’d put your squeamishness aside for me. Or that it wouldn’t be gross because you love me, or something.” 
“I would if it were true,” you reply, “but I’m afraid I won’t be much help if I’m gagging over you the entire time. I’ll hold your hand while we both don’t look, though.” 
“Mm, fair enough.” He scoots closer on the bed. His hand finds your opposite hip, rubbing a slow back-and-forth. “And you’ll distract me with kisses while I’m nursed back to health?” 
“If it’ll help.” Your voice is soft. “Though I should point out that I haven’t received any kisses.” 
Twin dimples appear on either side of James mouth as he leans over you, careful to avoid your hurt leg. “Patience, angel,” he murmurs as his lips brush yours. “I’m not done with you yet.” 
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mrsparrasblog · 3 days
Text
You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader
TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation
prev part first part. next part
Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.
You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.
"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.
"Babe, please."
"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.
"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.
"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.
When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"
"Got in some fights around the base."
"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.
"Don't want anyone else."
"Kyle."
"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."
You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.
"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.
"Love—"
"Let me clean you."
He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.
"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."
"Kyle, I can't lie to you."
You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.
"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."
"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."
"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.
"He understands."
"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.
"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."
"Let me fix this."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.
"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."
"Cheated on you, deserve it."
"I know it was Johnny."
"Lie."
"Kyle told me."
"Oh."
"Can you forgive me, John?"
"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.
"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.
"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.
"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.
"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."
"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"
"There will be, and then we'll be happy."
"You're sick. This will never happen."
"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."
"No one will believe you."
"They will."
And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.
"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."
"Hen, please."
You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?
"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."
"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.
"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."
You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"
"Love, don't believe—"
"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"
That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.
"Luv?"
"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.
Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.
"Johnny?"
"Go away, Lt."
"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."
"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."
"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.
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ellecdc · 2 days
Text
All's Fair in Love & Chaos (III)
third instalment (read the first and second)
a short blurb style mini-series in collaboration with @unstablereader no real plot, just vibes and comedy.
Synopsis: soulmate au, everyone's soulmate's initials become visible on their wrist when the last person in the bond 'comes of age' (I've left the age ambiguous because their may be mature insinuations later on in the story). As luck would have it, and much to everyone's horror; it appeared that you, Barty Crouch Junior, and Sirius Black were soulmates
poly!DeathStar x fem!reader
“Okay, but I don’t think you’re properly considering my perspective on this.” James offered calmly. 
“Because your perspective is asinine and foolish.” Regulus spat back causing Remus and Peter to chuckle.
“Asinine and foolish… Regulus Arcturus Black, I’ve raised you better than this; quit speaking like such a ponce.” Sirius scolded, causing Regulus to glare at him.
“Your friend is the stupidest fucking wanker I’ve ever met in my life.” He corrected. 
Sirius brought a hand to his chest and looked at his brother adoringly. “I’ve never been more proud.” He whispered as he wiped a fake tear from under his eye. 
“I just think that two things that have eight legs ought to be closely related. I don’t think it’s outlandish to call an octopus a wet-spider.” James carried on level-headedly.
“Because they’re completely different phylums!” Regulus bellowed. 
“Okay but they’re definitely the same shape.” Peter added solemnly. 
“They are-” Regulus started, turning to look at Peter incredulously. “They are not the same shape! How are they the same shape?”
“Well, they’ve both got, like…their bodies? Right? And then they’ve got their legs just….all outward like. You know?” Peter explained, using his hands to represent said body and legs. 
“Salazars saggy balls.” Regulus muttered under his breath as he stood from the library table and gathered his things. “Je n'arrive pas à croire que je m'entoure de parfaits abrutis. Âme sœur ou pas, je ne peux pas continuer à vivre ainsi.”
Regulus continued muttering furiously under his breath as he made for the door causing Remus to let out a long suffering sigh and gather his own things. 
“Way to go, boys.” He sighed in faux admonishment. “You’ve put my soulmate in a bad mood.”
James muttered what sounded an awful lot like ‘well it’s not very hard now, is it?’ as Sirius quickly looked at his watch. “Oh shit! Is it four o’clock already?”
Remus opted to wait for Sirius as he carelessly shoved his untouched homework - that they had originally gone to the library to complete - before hurrying for the library door his brother had just exited. 
“What’s happening at four o'clock?” Remus asked as he caught the door Sirius had just allowed to close unceremoniously on one of his oldest friends. 
Both Sirius and Regulus grumbled - albeit for very different reasons - as Remus and Sirius stepped outside of the library where Regulus had been waiting for his boyfriend. 
“Must you bring your brigade of buffoons with you everywhere?” Regulus hissed at Remus who simply tsked at him and pulled him into his side. 
“Play nice, Reggie.” He murmured into Regulus’ hairline.
“Yeah; play nice Reggie.” Sirius mocked petulantly, earning him a swat up the back of the head from Remus.
“What’s happening at four o’clock?” Remus repeated as he professionally managed a potential level four sibling squabble between his best friend and his soulmate. 
“I have to meet with Y/N and Junior.” Sirius explained solemnly.
“You have your soulmate bond organised by a timetable?” Remus asked as a joke, pausing in his chuckles when he realised Sirius was being quite….serious. 
“It gets better.” Regulus added unhelpfully and unprompted as he followed Sirius and Remus (unwelcomely) to Sirius, Barty, and your meet-up spot. “They have to have supervised hand-offs.”
“Don’t call it a hand-off Regulus; she’s not some child in a divorce.” Sirius muttered petulantly.
“I agree, I rather think you and Junior are the children in this situation.” Regulus bit back with his nose in the air; Sirius wanted to break it.
He didn’t get the chance though, as Remus ushered the conversation along. “Why does it need to be supervised?”
“Because Junior kept trying to hex me when we’d meet up, and then when Y/N told him he couldn’t do that, he’d hide somewhere in the castle and I’d have to snag the map from your trunk to find them.”
“Who supervises these exchanges?” Remus carried on, but Sirius needn’t respond when they stepped into the courtyard where Barty, you, and Pandora were waiting near the fountain.
“Hello Sirius!” Pandora greeted brightly, causing Barty to scowl. 
“No fair! He’s not supposed to bring back up! I would have brought Evan!”
“It’s not back up Barty.” You argued exhaustedly, looking particularly mortified at the attendance at today’s exchange. 
“Hello, Junior.” Sirius bit out as politely as he could manage only to have the sod glare at him. 
“Is there something you’d like to say, Bartemus?” Pandora asked serenely.
“Yes. Get fucked Black.” He spat.
“That was perhaps my fault.” Pandora conceded. “Barty, say hello to Sirius.”
“Hello…..Sirius.” 
“Good job, Bartemus.” Pandora praised like he was a snotty little nursery school student. “Now say goodbye to Y/N.” 
Sirius heaved a sigh as he crossed his arms and shot Remus a look before watching Barty turn to you and pepper kisses all over your face; you - Merlin love you - looked like you were working really hard to fight your fight-or-flight instincts. 
“Now Treasure, if you get tired of him or need anything, just-”
“Barty, I’m fine.”
“I know you’re fine.” Barty conceded. “It’s him I’m worried about.”
“Barty.” You repeated; tone taking on a severity Sirius wasn’t accustomed to hearing from you. “It is Sirius, our soulmate…our soulmate. I will be fine, yeah?”
Properly chastised, Barty shot Sirius another glare before acquiescing and pressing one last kiss to your cheek before letting go of your wrists. 
You nodded gratefully at Pandora for her service and shot Remus and Regulus a wary look as you made your way across the courtyard. 
“Hello, gorgeous.” Sirius greeted you salaciously, causing you to flush impossibly further at the attention. 
“Sirius, please.” You begged.
“What?” Sirius scoffed in faux offence. “He’s allowed to make a fuss over you and I’m not?”
You groaned and stomped your foot a little bit as you allowed Sirius to take your hand in his. “You’re supposed to be more reasonable.”
“Fine.” Sirius relented as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “I can wait until we’re in the privacy of the dorm to fuss over you.”
You groaned in horror again when Remus laughed and Regulus grumbled at the thought of his brother fussing over anyone.
“I’m going to be attending poor Y/N’s funeral before I ever attend her soul-bond.” Remus joked as the four of you made your way back into the castle.
“Make sure it’s a nice funeral, yeah?” You asked him quietly. 
Remus barked a surprised laugh at that. “Consider it done.”
“And then send the bill to Junior.” Sirius added quickly, earning him an elbow in the ribs.
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unluckilyimnot · 2 days
Note
Hiii i love ur work so i wanted to request smth 🫶
Them with a s/o who is very short lol (like 5'0")
I would appreciate it if you could do this with rin, sae, yoichi and kaiser!!
Have a good day 🩷
Short s/o – rin, sae, yoichi, kaiser, hiori
m.list | rules
note: hiii thank you sm for your request <3 that’s basically my height so I know very much what it’s like
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Rin
he doesn’t pay much attention at first, he’s not with you because of your height
but as time goes, he can get used to rest his head on top of yours
also pass his arm around your shoulders to bring him to him if necessary – he’s always kind of shy when your head hit his chest
loves it a lot when you sit between his legs to watch a movie because he can have you close and never worry about not seeing it well
you’ll only get confession about him liking it when it’s really late, sleep is already heavy on his eyes and he pulls you closer
you feel minuscule against his body and he’ll confess how down bad he is for you because you’re so small and cute, it pains him
never mention it tho, he’ll get sulky
Sae
acts normal about it but always hold your hand in the crowd because he’s scared to lose you
also scared to lose you in huge store so he just tag along – if you wear one particular piece that is colorful he’ll look for that instead
he once scold you because he lost you, but not before holding you close or kissing your forehead after checking you were alright
your forehead is were he kiss you the most in fact ‘cause it’s so easy access, it’s asking for it
hold you close to him when you sleep because, 1 he has to keep you warm, and 2 you’re so small he feels like he had to make sure nothing happens to you
deep down he’s down bad for it but doesn’t show it much and acts like he doesn’t care
he still put stuff on the top shelf sometimes for you to ask him for help
he got tricked a few times in fact because you just got on the furniture to get it yourself
his beige flag is that he manhandle you when you annoy him on purpose
Isagi
he’s the cutest ever I know that for sure
he’s afraid to offend you at first I think but he’s honest and tell you very quickly how cute you are, being so small
it never really stopped after that, even before you started dating he kept on telling you that you were cute
same as rin, he loooves to lay his head on top of yours
he bend to look at things with you but in a respectful, cute, head over heels for you way
holds you all the time when you’re home with him
hold him for behind, nuzzle your nose between his shoulders and he’s on his knees crying about how cute you are
fake crying about it sometimes (my gf does that)
he knows that not your whole personality but damn that’s still very cool to him to have a small s/o
Kaiser
he rest his arms on your head or shoulder to bother you all the time tbh
he’s annoying for sure but at the same time he’s probably whipped for you bc you’re so SMALL
he can grab you all the time so easily
the way you hit on his chest at best and your head rest on his arms when you’re tired and need to recharge
he loves to hold you to his chest in general
grab your chin up to kiss you or force you to go on tip toes to be able to kiss him
but also tells everyone you’re the cutest human being
he can’t help but melt if you pull his shirt or sleeve to kiss his cheeks or lips
you’ll catch him blush more than you might expected
he’s the type to tell you that you’re cute to tease you and see you blush
Hiori
he has a whole album on his phone dedicated to pictures you looks small, you know like those type of pictures for kpop idol
when you’re laying on a bed, rolled into a ball or if you’re standing a certain way and he founds you so cute
he can’t help but giggle every times and snap a picture
you’re totally aware of it the second he laugh that way and you ended up whining at him
probably the less shy after kaiser to tell you that he finds you cute
he wants to hold you close all the time I think, he’s in love with how small you feel against him
lays his head on your shoulder if he catches someone staring at you or if they’re flirting with you
but also does this to simply check what you’re looking at on your phone or read before your shoulder with you
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I hope you liked it !
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yandere-sins · 2 days
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a/n: We all know Sunday is scratching my itches for yandere!priests a bit too well, ehe~
You are an avid confessor at Sunday's booth. 
It started with a friend's nudge, telling you how much better you'd feel if you talked about your troubles. And it helped—for a while. But troubles rarely come alone, and soon enough, you return to the confession booth almost thrice as much as everyone else. But it helps, at least temporarily, when you tell your woes to someone who absolves you of your worries, allowing you to let the tension fade from your mind. 
Sunday loves listening to your voice, imagining it as part of his choir of order, and he forgives even the gravest of your sins, although it breaks his heart. Must you always speak so harshly about him? He only sent you a few letters expressing his love and desire for you, yet you speak as if he had bad intentions. You tell him with a teary voice that you're scared something will happen to you, and Sunday can't help sliding his fingers over the see-through net separating you two, imagining he was caressing your cheek, wiping your tears away, and comforting you.
If it was entirely up to him, he'd tell you that it was his hand penning the poems of insanity he personally dropped in your mailbox in the shadows of night. He'd tell you all those deeds he wants to do for you, all the nasty little things he imagines you doing with him. But alas, he abstains. He can't do anything more to soothe your fears than to promise he'll be working hard to guarantee your safety. This dream is meant to be wonderful for you and him, after all. 
And yet, next to him rests the letter of the day, adorned with a feather, its ink as red as blood seeping through the pristine white paper. 
One day, he'll have the order he's seeking. One day, he'll be able to guarantee your presence by his side and make you love him the same way he loves you. By then, you will know that you need him. Not only for emotional stability but also to take care of your fears and worries that will all wash away come the day you are chosen as his saint. Sunday will be the constant that you seek out on your best and your worst days. Even if it means instilling the fear and paranoia in you that you have a stalker for now. It will be worth it if it drives you back into his arms—or, well, into his confession booth. But until then, he needs you to come to confess your sins again—even the ones that are originally his. 
Because how else is he going to get his fix of you?
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bandgie · 2 days
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What Sub? - SKZ OT8
just me thinking about what kind of sub skz would like :p
MDNI 18+ | gen!reader
chan!
likes an obedient sub! chan is such a good dom and loves pleasing his sub, so he expects you to be on your best behavior. that saying, he doesn't mind if you get a little shy or pout a little. maybe even give him a little bit of a hard time, but it can't be often. chan overall needs a good sub that he can pump his load into
minho!
he likes a teasing sub or a slight playful masochist. one that can put up with his antics and a little bit of back n forth. not a full on brat because he would get sick of that attitude real quick, but a few ass slaps and hair pulling never hurt no one. i do think he would want his sub to be more on the obedient side, but it's okay to have a little fun with him too
changbin!
power bottom!! he needs a power bottom!! he's a pleasure dom 100% and can't say no to his baby. you can take take take and he'll give give give!! you can be a little mean to him too, but he needs lots of kisses after. doesn't care what position you put him in as long as he gets to see you cum your brains out. however, there is fine line with him. it's rare, but sometimes you cross it and bin has to put you in your place, and he hatesss making you cry but when you're being a bad sub he needs to show you.
hyunjin!
he loves a devoted sub. basically someone who completely submits and does everything he says. like chan? but way more emotional and no room for disobedience at all. he loves seeing how happy and relaxed you are when he's doing his thing. hyunjin is also a pleasure dom, but he still likes to be in control. if you do break a rule, it's honestly a turn off. accidents happen and yeah maybe you get into it a little too much, but it's when it's purposeful and results in him feeling bad. Hyunjin's a good boy, and it's only fair he has a good sub
han!
is it possible for both of you to be subs...because hannie goes crazy for that. desperate sex is so in his field, so I think a sexual submissive sub is really his thing. basically someone who would do anything and everything sexual for their dom. he wants to do an icky role play? his sub will gladly agree. he wants to be treated poorly? like a god? yes and yes, a sexual submissive will do anything for him. he loves that so much and just telling you what he wants to do and you happily agreeing has him leaking
felix!
this one is hard because I think Felix likes anybody, but imma have to say a service sub might be his fav. he gets to lay back n relax and he gets to cum?? sounds like a great night. it's not like he won't do anything for you, but the thought of having someone to make sure to milk his cock dry is so hot. if you do well, he'll reward you after. but right now, making sure you can see his chest turn pink and little tears build in his eyes is all you need to worry about.
seungmin!
i know it's gonna sound so basic, but a bratty sub. the resisting, the fight for power, the inventible submission...yeah he likes that. this type of play can't happen all the time. it's very draining and takes a mental/physical toll, but it's so damn fun. he loves when he pretends that you won, letting you pin his arms above his head and grinding on his cock to your liking until he's had enough and flips you over. gripping a fist full of your hair and shoving your face in the sheets as he fucks into you. muffling your cries and whimpers and - sorry I'll stop (aftercare goes crazy btw)
jeongin!
jeongin needs someone who listens really good, so a bedroom submissive is the way to go. they're really similar to a service sub, but it usually involves a little bit of pain and being submissive only takes place in the bedroom whereas a service sub is usually someone who likes being a good sub outside of the sheets. jeongin likes seeing you turn into a different person during sex. getting to flip you in different positions, spitting in your mouth, making you please him, making you take how much he pleases you. possibilities are endless and he thinks it's a healthy balance between personal and social life
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undercoverpena · 23 hours
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13. hello yellow
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter thirteen of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 4.3k (she became a biggie) chapter warnings: reference to anxious!reader. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this is the one you've been waiting for... .
prev chapter | series masterlist
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
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It grows on your tongue on a cooler morning—the birds having only just begun chirping, the sun really only just rising. But he's there, truck parked outside as he brings you coffee, for no other reason than just because.
It's almost hard not to say the three words.
They thicken in your throat when you surprise him at work, having already spoken to Harry, asking if you can steal him for an extra half an hour. His face brightens, practically illuminating when he sees you at the register. It continues to do so when you take him back to the place where the two of you had lunch, his face beaming.
You’re not sure how the words don’t escape there and then.
There are a bunch of moments saying them could have been right. It would be so easy to let them slip out, but then he'll say something that makes you laugh, or his phone will go off and the conversation shifts, and you wait a little longer.
But you don’t just want right, you want perfect.
Just like him.
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You know how we love Harold?
Yes?
He might have recommended me to a friend of his for some paintwork.
This sounds like a good thing, yet it feels very bad for me.
The only date the man can do is the day I said we’d go to the beach.
If this isn’t you asking me to come and help you be your a-paint-tice I’m going to be really let down.
You want to come paint a man’s house with me?
I want to do anything with you, Butterscotch.
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It vibrates from two rooms away—buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.
Your feet rush for you, socks almost making you a health hazard as you round the corner from your bedroom to the hallway. A laugh trying to escape from giddiness as your palms press into your off-white walls, before using it for leverage to continue.
Moving, almost running, not looking where you’re going, only realising at the last second when your foot collides with it.
Pain.
It pulses and makes tears spring to your eyes instantly. The hurt is more than radiating, it erodes, grows and pounds.
Fucking toolbox.
Hand grasping it as you half-hobble to the little side table where your phone almost topples off.
Butterscotch <3
A caller ID that usually brings an immediate smile to your face, and still, even as you clutch your foot in your hand and drag your finger across the screen, it somehow still does.
“Hey, I’m almost there—did you want lunch in or out?”
Stuffing a wince down your throat, you blink back fresh tears as your thumb presses down on a particular spot. “I need to show you something but maybe out?”
“You okay?” No, you want to hiss—wanting to add extra O’s and everything. “You sound off?”
Swallowing bitterness, you try to smile as you lower your foot—putting some weight on it as you suddenly become warm, and uncomfortable.
“Rainy?”
“Butterscotch, I bet you’re one street—you’re literally pulling up.”
You swear you hear him grin. Almost being able to tell even from the way he puts his vehicle in park that his smile is growing into his cheeks and cascading over his eyes. It makes your own appear, somehow rising to the surface and kicking its feet furiously to appear.
By the time you’d end the call, quickly check your foot inside your sock and put it back in place, your eyes catch his coming through your front door. Letting in amber streams of sunlight that paint across the hardwood in warm, honeyed hues. Bringing in warmth, a calmness, the pain suddenly non-existent when you see him slide out the key from the keyhole—the one you’d told him to keep, the one you’d give him, told him to use.
The sight pulls at something inside of you, making it easier to smile, to beam as he closes it behind him and walks himself up to you—mouth pressing to yours. The taste of coffee and mint flooding your mouth, your fingers full of his curls as his hand presses to your lower spine—bodies flush, his keys clanging in the air.
“You know I think you’re beautiful,” he whispers, teeth teasing your bottom lip before releasing it with a pop. “But, baby, what are you wearing?”
His hand slides down the plastic, water-proof full-body overalls you have on. It rustles, making your skin even warmer when he takes another long look at you, and laughs.
Not a giggle.
Not a quiet, hidden and disguised laugh. A full-on roar of laughter.
“I got it for next week,” you exclaim, heat rising up your neck. “You told me I’d need to wear something that would cover me—wanted to make sure it was okay.”
“Baby, I meant not your romper—'cause you’ll get paint on your legs. I didn't mean a… hazmat suit?”
Folding your arms, you take a step back, face scrunching in a wince you’re not sure he notices as you roll your eyes before turning on your heels to change. ���I’m new to this.”
“I know, I know,” he says, trying to stifle his laugh, hand reaching out. “Baby, wait, I’m sorry. Okay? You just don’t need—fuck, Rainy. I can see your ass through this.”
“No, you cannot.”
“I fucking can.”
Letting him pull you into his arms, you shake your head, stupidly unable to stop yourself from grinning, before his lips brush over yours. Your nails digging into the t-shirt on his waist, mouth parting as he eases you back, a grimace hidden against his tongue as his knee nudges between your plastic-covered thighs.
“Frankie,” you whisper, it leaving your tongue like a whine.
He only hums in response, it vibrating against you, fingers tightening in his curls as his knee rises that bit more, friction so readily there, easily able to rock your hips if you so want to. Until it rustles, furrows, a noise so unsexy you feel him slowly grin against your mouth.
“Can’t believe you just wore underwear under this,” he teases, dropping his knee.
Your breath finds your lungs with more ease as you roll your lower lip between your teeth, admiring him, unable to stop ogling the man who is very much all yours after the position he just had you in.
“I should change before we go out for lunch,” you mumble. “Before I flash everyone.”
Moving away from him before he can stop you, you let out a groan as your bad foot flattens, unable to hide the misstep. Hearing him call your name, you're quick to wave him off. Digging your nails into your palm as you take (what feels like a thousand) steps until you’re unzipping the ridiculous plastic, all-in-one, and begin yanking drawers and doors open until you’re standing in something more appropriate for lunch.
Half-closing your bedroom door behind you, you don’t need to call for him, you know where he’ll be. Finding him exactly where you expected, tape measure in hand—right in front of one of the office windows.
“Thought you could do that in your head.”
Snorting, shooting you a look over his shoulder, he grins. “Wanna make sure I’m exact.”
“For me?”
“For you.”
Leaning against the frame, not obviously showing you’re taking the weight from your now pulsing foot, you try to smile. Listening as he begins telling you about getting something for your windows, instead of thinking how you should ice it, get him to wrap it, maybe ask him—politely—if he’d put his fucking toolbox away between visits before you actually break something.
Somehow, you hear enough to follow what he’s saying, about how blinds would help, that they’d give you more daylight while also shielding you if you wish to work in the dark—they’d be more flexible, modern. He could help you fit them.
And it dawns on you, that while you've had it in your head about curtains, this is a thing you should have thought of yourself.
A thing which feels so obvious now he’s said it that it irks you that you haven’t. Because blinds would be better. Digging a hole in you, making you feel silly, stupid, and foolish—
The realisation makes you pinch your forearm and take a deep breath. You re-centre yourself, thinking about the one image that inspired all of this, imagining it with blinds instead of what had remained fixed in your head, hung and stuck.
The problem with desiring something inspirational is that it isn’t always tailored to the person who desires it. To you, who will be using the room. Yet, Frankie has thought of you—like the considerate, beautiful man that he is.
“From your face, you don’t want blinds?” he asks.
Your mouth opens, before closing. Putting some weight down as your eye narrows in pain—it floods through you as you try not to frown. “It’s not that—I just thought curtains. Thought I preferred the way curtains look, is all.”
Frankie shrugs, staring out of the window, before glancing back. “Curtains it is then.”
“But, blinds do make sense.”
And you can see it, the way he chews his tongue—the way he swallows words he wishes to say. It flares something within. Rolling his head on his shoulders, and scratching the back of his head, he smiles.
“But you want curtains.”
“I did.”
“Then have curtains.”
He’s being nice—that’s what you remind yourself. He’s being kind and thoughtful. He’s taking what you’re saying and giving you exactly that.
Yet it feels… bad.
It makes you all of a sudden not want it—anger bubbling, trying to grow wider in your stomach. Instead, wanting him to tell you that you should have blinds, for all the reasons he’s listed, because it makes sense. They’re practical, and easy; it’ll block the sun out if it’s a bright day. They’ll even look modern; following the theme of the room.
And the fact he isn’t reminding you of that makes you mad. So much you feel it clawing up your throat, all ash and brimstone; flames and bonfire.
But you’re not mad at him. You’re mad at yourself for not looking. You’re not mad at him, just his toolbox. You’re not mad at him. You’re mad—
It repeating. Swirling. Shifting around the imaginary plug hole in your head as you wait for it to fall through and douse whatever it is that is brewing inside of you.
“I didn’t think of it like you did, so let’s have blinds.”
“It’s okay, it’s really—”
“But, they make sense, Frankie. You just said so.”
Jaw tightening, he hides his annoyance with a smile. “But, baby, you don’t want blinds, so let me just measure for—”
Standing straight, unable to hide the miniature sob from pain, you follow it with: “Stop being nice to me.”
He blinks. Both at your tone and the words that snap through the air as your palm pushes against your forehead, hoping to quiet it, the simmering anger that bubbles and thickens like soup.
“Rainy—”
“You don’t… I’m not broken, Frankie. Sometimes we can just… disagree. You can tell me I’m wrong.”
“I know that.”
He says it so quickly, all with a colder edge to his words. Ice threatening to wrap around them, freeze, as they go to land, pellet. Bruise against you.
Tilting your head, you stare at him—knowing you should stop. Remove your finger from the metaphorical scab. “Do you? Because ever since the other month you’ve been… extra nice.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“It is when I’m furious with you,” you snap, it’s out now, you think.
Chest tight, things unfurling and uncoiling, flames ripping through you as though all the emergency doors have flung open and allowed it to breathe through every part of you.
“When I’m mad that I tripped over your toolbox again because you didn’t put it away. Because you likely did something nice for me and forgot. But now I’ve really hurt my foot—”
“—Baby, why didn’t you—”
But you ignore him. Not even waving him off, just continuing, “—and that I can’t decide if I want curtains or blinds and yet you make a very good argument for blinds that I hadn’t considered and you always do that—have amazing ideas, great insight, plus, you seemingly know me better than I know me, which is so lovely, but I'm mad at myself for not thinking of it. But, you, you didn't do that, because you understand me.”
“Is this a bad thing?”
No, you think as your mouth jams shut. Staring. Blinking. Because of course, it isn’t. It’s just that it’s never been something you’ve had, never experienced, never thought could possibly be given to you.
A thing that you both love, so much, but also feel is going to be ripped from you at any moment. Better not to have it, than lose it. No skill to prepare for this level of care, so used to having to make decisions and choices and have no one offer to help.
But he’s not going.
He’s standing, hands at his sides, line between his brows. Confusion trying to crawl over him and lather his features, but he seems to be fighting it, stopping it. His eyes somehow remain soft even as your mouth hands open, more words set to spit and fire—
“I need. I need a moment.”
And you don’t wait for the okay or the sight of his face falling.
Just moving, hurrying. Feet trying to carry you through to the kitchen as your palms use the wall as a crutch to do so, finding a counter to rest on, to lean on, to breathe against as thick, uncontrollable tears begin to paint your cheeks. Whether from the pain or the fact you’d snapped. Unable to hold them back from rumbling out when your forehead presses against cool wood as you take breaths in and out, in and out.
Doing so until the pain dries on your cheeks and you’re merely resting, taking the moment you said you needed before you hear him clear his throat. Before he asks if he can come closer and if he can look at your foot, two things you quickly nod for—wanting to take it back, apologise, even explain. Instead, you let him aid you up onto the counter, slide the sock from your foot assess it and turn it, finger brushing over your skin as light as a feather as he asks does it hurt here, or what about here?
It makes your heart flutter.
Makes it even harder not to blurt three words at him, when really he deserves a chorus of them for what in the hell just happened. So, you lead with:
“I’ve decided that I don’t like fighting with you.”
Snorting, he picks up the sock from the floor, easing it slowly back over your toes. “It’s not my favourite thing we do together either.”
Smirking, you stare down at him. Watching him. “I don’t want you to think I’m fragile. That’s all.
“That you can’t challenge me just because of what happened the other month. Because it’ll happen again. But I can still make choices, you can still tell me I’m wrong—sometimes, I need you to tell me I’m wrong, because if you agree with me all the time, you won’t push me to be better. I’ll just stay stagnant, and choose curtains when I really think I’ll regret it and want blinds.”
Standing, he places his hands on either side of your thighs on the counter, letting out a heavy exhale as he looks at you, as he stares from eye to eye, before whispering your name. The one which sounds so kind in his mouth, that sounds like it matters—that it holds importance and weight, even if you prefer Rainy.
“I don’t think you’re fragile,” he whispers as you slide your hand over his, watching his eyes soften, heal. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I did.”
Half-smiling, you nod. Eyes searching his, waiting to see if the lie appears when he blinks, whether it spreads out like paint touching water and if it makes his truthful eyes murky. But it never comes. Instead, his hand cups your cheek, in a way that centres you and makes you only want to look at him.
Exhaling, he smiles. “I just don't want to make you choose something you don't want. That's all, baby.”
Eyeing him chewing words, weighing up whether it’s worth it to speak them or let them slide back into the crevice they slithered from. Because it’s painful, maybe far too much truth for him, can see it in the way it makes lines appear across his face, as though it’s fracturing him to remember.
“I wasn’t really mad at you.”
Slowly, a grin breaks out. “Yes, you was.”
“Okay, a little bit, but it wasn’t your fault. So, I’m sorry. But I am mad at your toolbox, it really hurt.”
“I’ll be sure to tell it.”
Narrowing your eyes, you slowly part your legs, tugging on him to move between them, wrapping them around his waist as he shyly smiles. “Been thinking.”
“About how you now want curtains again?”
Pinching him, hearing him hiss, you smirk. “Too soon, Morales. No. I’ve been thinking that the cupboard closest to the office door.” He hums in response, it vibrating against your collarbone as he kisses it. “Think that’s where your toolbox should live.”
You feel him grin against your skin, blow warm air in an exhale against it. “You making room for my tools now.”
Lifting his chin, nose bumping against the tip of his, you mirror his smile. “I want to make room for all of you, Frankie.”
“Yeah?”
Pressing a peck to his lips, you wipe your thumb over it. “Yeah.”
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Babe, what is the attire for a kid's soccer match?
Comfort. It’s a lot of standing at the sidelines and hopeful cheering.
So knee-high socks and tight shorts are a no?
Fuck. That’s a fucking image.
Help me, because what I’ve Googled isn’t helping me.
I have a spare shirt you can wear.
Does it have Morales on the back?
It actually does.
Frankie, did you make adult versions of your son’s soccer team kit?
Does it make me lame if I say yes?
No, it makes me want to ask you if you can grab me fifteen minutes earlier so my mouth can show you how not-lame that is.
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You'll be pleased to know I've sent the email and I am no longer working with 'prickly-puta', as you so lovingly called him.
I'm really proud of you. You okay?
I'd be better if I could celebrate with you, but I can wait.
How would you want to celebrate?
You sure you want to know?
Always, baby.
Well, I was thinking about showing you my power tools.
Maybe even using them? Letting you see what I do with them. It's very different from what you do with yours.
You there, I can see the typing bubble keep popping up.
Give me ten and I can video chat.
Oh no, you don't get an advanced preview. Might let you listen though.
Fuck me.
That's what I'd be saying if you were here right now.
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You don't mind that painting ruined the beach because the rain is unrelenting.
The grey of the day filters through the bare windows, spreading itself as far as it can as Frankie prepares the second room of the three the two of you were set to do.
You don’t mind the sound of rain; you never have. You find it peaceful how it cascades down from the drains and runs in marathons down the glass. Right now, the sound trickles in through the open window, while the room is suffused with the scent of fresh paint from the kitchen, mingling with the aroma of the third pot of coffee Frankie’s been brewing.
Even if he doesn't admit it, you swear he's only making as many so he can take a moment to kiss you. To run his hands over your waist and slide them over your romper-covered ass—
“Have I told you how good your ass looks in this?”
Sipping your coffee, tasting each note of it, you reply, “Twice, actually.”
“Not enough then.”
Between acting like teenagers in a stranger’s home (including him leaving a large handprint firmly on your denim-covered ass), the paint goes on in thick strokes. You cut in, trying to match the rhythm of the song playing out on the radio—a game only you are playing to distract yourself—because the sight of Frankie using the roller is ruining you.
Unable to stop staring at the way his arms flex with each motion; how his shirt stretches out across his back to the point you're not sure how the threads haven't ripped.
“Want to see the colour for this room?”
It’s a serene shade of yellow, reminiscent of a summer’s day. It'll brighten the room, glide nicely over the old, smothering secrets and old stories, offering something new. Fitting, you think from the drive over when Frankie told you the situation.
“It's perfect.”
“Isn't it?”
Arm around his waist, fingers stroking up and down his side. “Did you pick it, Morales?”
Shyness breaks out then, smile lopsided, eyes averting before whispering, “Maybe.”
You made a note to tell him later what an eye for colour he has.
Dipping the tip of the brush in the paint tray, you swipe it against the corner where two walls meet, finding his eyes on you again.
“Stop marvelling at my paintwork and focus on your own, Morales.”
“S’not your paint skills I’m staring at.”
Smirking, you look over your shoulder at him, nose scrunching. “Who knew watching me paint was your kink.”
You like the sound of his laugh mingling with the yellow on the walls. It makes you smile wider, a thing you find yourself doing each time you refill your paint tray as torture him with your terrible singing.
The only other noise is the rain, the clink of a paint can and the rustle of plastic drop cloths as the transformation happens before your very eyes. It’s not even dried, and it already looks far better than the cigarette-stained walls and palm-covered handprints you hadn’t wanted to guess why they were there, yet had done all the same.
“Maybe he’s measuring how tall he is with his hands.”
Frankie snorts. “What if he wipes his dirty hands on the wall? Finishes his food, wipes. Gets something on his finger, wipes. Has a sticky hand—well.”
You’re about to tell him not to finish that thought, when the radio plays the beginning notes of something that steals your attention.
It hooks in the corner of your lips and drags it up your cheeks as the familiar melody of an old favourite drifts from the speakers, wrapping the space in a cosy embrace—both taking you back and rooting you here in a new memory.
You try not to, but you can’t help the movement in your hips. The way you begin whispering—hushed voice mingling with the music, filling the room with a gentle, attempted harmony as your pitch gets higher, and higher.
Then, you're swaying to the rhythm, lost in it, catching a glimpse of Frankie out of the corner of your eye as he leans against the doorway, arms folded across his chest, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
There's something in his eyes, you can see it. A tender look, one that makes your heart skip a beat.
But you close your eyes, and let the music carry you away, your voice rising and falling with the lyrics as they spill from your lips effortlessly. Opening your eyes at the bridge, finding him still watching, in awe, gaze unwavering.
And there's a softness there in his expression that you've never seen before, a quiet intensity that takes your breath away. It's as if the world has faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this sunshine-filled room, back-lit by a horrid stormy day.
Yet, it feels perfect.
More so as you begin to sing to him, unable to stop staring as he takes a step closer, eyes never leaving yours. His fingers slide under yours, taking the tray and brush from your hands, placing it aside as his smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners, looking at you as if you're the most precious thing in the world.
“What?”
He reaches out, gently brushing his knuckles on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice soft and steady.
For a moment, the room seems to stand still.
A flicker of something sparks inside you. Those same words have been so close to your tongue for days now that you almost need to pinch yourself to see if you've really heard them.
But, you know you heard it. The declaration hanging in the air, weighty and profound, making the actual music fade into the background, you swear time itself pauses, allowing the enormity of his words to sink in.
Frankie slides his arm around your waist, still smiling, tugging you closer—a thing your body gives with all but ease. And he repeats it. Those three words.
This time, your heart skips a beat. Emotions swirl within you like a tempestuous sea. One that calms under the stroke of his thumb as your fingers wrapping around his wrist, drawing a soft shape there.
“I love you too, Morales.”
“Yeah?”
Nodding, a grin breaking out like the sun on the walls. “I’ve been in love with you for a while.”
Then you hear it, the velvety, smooth sound of him saying good, as he kisses you to the last notes and chorus of an old, but new favourite song.
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NEXT CHAPTER ->
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canthelpit0 · 20 hours
Text
Silent
Pairing: Matt x reader
Wordcount: 1.8k +
Summary: you’ve always quietly watched the triplets, silently wishing you could be a part of a group like them. Until you and Matt talk for the first time…
Warnings: selective mutism, anxiety, crying, angst, praise, no use of y/n, no oc
(Disclaimer: I’m not mute in any way. This was a request from an anon that I accidentally deleted. Hope you like it ! Requests are open)
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I developed selective mutism pretty early on. My mom says that I didn’t talk even back in kindergarten.
But it’s been years now.
I can talk, and I can’t shut the fuck up for the life of me. I talk a lot, even have full conversations with myself.
Just not at school, or around new people. God, especially not in school.
It’s not like I want to be the ‘ weird’ mute kid. I would love to talk and make friends, I just physically can’t open my mouth and talk.
It even took months for me to utter simple words to my therapist, tho by this point I’ve known her for years and I’m pretty comfortable.
There are these triplets in my grade. We’ve always gone to the same school, but I don’t think they ever noticed me.
Well the first time I noticed them was in first grade, because there were three of them. Of corse my six year old self didn’t understand the concept of multiples back then, and I really wanted to ask, and talk to them. I really thought they were cool.
The first time I interacted with any of them tho was when I was in fourth grade and Nick had asked to use my dark green pencil since he only had light green and needed both dark and light.
Back in fourth grade I wasn’t just selectively mute, but also really shy. So I’d just looked down and stared at the desk giving him a small nod.
In freshmen year I shared a class with Nick again, he asked me for a pen, wich I gave to him.
Despite not having talked to him once in my entire life, he remembered my name. Wich isn’t too shocking since we’ve always been around each other, I was just kinda in the shadows.
He actually gave me that pen back. Most other people would’ve forgotten and just taken it, but Nick didn’t and I appreciated that.
I only ever interacted with Nick those two times. despite sharing a few classes with both Chris and Matt over the years, I’ve probably never even held eye contact with either of them.
I’ve been watching everyone.
Bullying isn’t really a thing. Sure there were some hurtful comments by jocks here and there but it really wasn’t as bad as in the movies.
Besides I think most people forget i even exist so they don’t even bother bullying me.
I’ve had my eye on Matt for a while. Not in a weird way. But Matt seems to pretty obviously have anxiety too. I don’t know if he’s open about it, I’m not in his friend circle.
But every time I’m feeling overwhelmed and we’re in the same room, I unconsciously glance at him to see if he feels the same or if I’m just going crazy.
Chris seems to be the loudest and most extroverted one. And while yes, Nick seems pretty extroverted too, Chris seems more… random? Bold?
I sulk in the back of the class my lips pulled into a tight line as I try to get myself together.
There is literally no reason for me to be feeling like this. Honestly no one has tried to talk to me today, nothing happened, I just feel so overwhelmed.
I raise my hand just slightly. I make eye contact with the teacher. Mrs. Evans. I literally love her, she’s so kind.
Her son is apparently mute too.
When I was diagnosed with selective mutism they thought it’d be a great idea to make me learn sign language just in case, and that’s just what I did.
Since Mrs. Evans son is mute, her son, as well as her and her husband also learned sign language.
So whenever I needed something I could sign to her. Not that I wouldn’t be too embarrassed too.
Our eyes lock. Everyone was working on some paper I should also be doing, but I’m too busy hyperventilating.
I let my hand drop on my desk and glance at the door quietly asking if I can go to the nurses office since I was too tired and ashamed to sign it to her.
She gives me a pitying smile but nods. I hate pity, but then again that’s better than getting told im faking.
I look around the class of students. I get up, as quiet as I can. I pack up my little stuff and quietly walk to the front of the class. I nod in appreciation and walk outside.
I stare at the ground while I walk down the hallway. I sigh.
I feel my eyes start to water and I bite the inside of my cheek.
Honestly I should probably go to the nurses office to get checked out, just so I can leave. But I don’t think I can handle communicating with another human.
I feel like I’m about to break down. I continue to walk down the hallway clutching the straps of my bag harshly.
I consider if driving home even is a good idea seeing as I’m about to have a mental breakdown. Or-
Suddenly I bump into someone.
I close my eyes trying not to cry right then. I don’t know who I bumped into but I want to apologize, but I know that I can’t, and since I don’t know who I bumped into I don’t know if it’s someone who’ll be mean about it or-
I’m taken off guard by a gentle brush to my upper arm.
“You’re good, it’s okay” I hear a soft voice say. I can feel my lip quivering, I feel like if I open my eyes the tears brimming at my waterline will actually fall.
“can you open your eyes?” It sounds more like a question, and that voice sounds painfully familiar but I can’t quite place it.
I want to tell him that I can’t, that I’ll cry if I do and I’ll feel even more embarrassed. But my curiosity takes over me.
So I slightly blink open my eyes. I don’t open my eyes fully, just enough to see the person through my tears.
It’s Matt, looking down at me all concerned.
I blink my eyes open. at the sight I watch his expression relax just slightly.
He himself looks overwhelmed, and honestly I don’t know if it’s because of how I’m acting, or if he had a shitty day himself.
“You okay?” He sighs slightly. I watch as he licks his lips and swallows thickly.
I take in another deep breath trying to calm down. I nod just slightly, but while I do the tears in my eyes finally spill.
I feel my hot tears run down my face. Matt’s eyes immediately widen and his mouth opens slightly like he thinks it’s his fault.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no please don’t cry.” He holds up his hands in front of my face as if he wanted to wipe my tears away but was holding himself back because he didn’t know my boundaries.
He looked miserable, like he was about to cry himself. And I just know that something this wouldn’t have him emotional like this on a normal day. At least I don’t think it would. But he seemed to be overwhelmed as well.
I scrunch my nose slightly sniffling in response. I glance back up at him and the sorrow in his eyes makes me want to sink into myself. I breathe out shakily.
Before I know it I’m bringing my hands up to my face and covering it. I tilt my head forward trying to stop crying, because crying in the school halls is just pathetic.
“I’m sorry. Fuck- can I touch you?” I hear his frantic voice. I appreciate that he asked first. I want a hug, but then again I don’t know Matt. But he just seems so genuine.
I overthink not responding to his question. My thoughts spiral at the sound of the sweet nothings and apologies leaving his mouth, only being back round noise.
Matt seems to notice that I’m starting to spiral. I feel his hand tenderly touch my wrist. I flinch slightly, and as soon as I do I feel him retract his hand.
Everybody deals with anxiety differently, some people like to be physically grounded others liked to be comforted some other way and I just knew that Matt was trying to figure out what to do without overstepping.
I’d tell him that it’s okay, or that he can hug me, but I literally can’t speak and I feel too embarrassed to let him see my teary face.
“I’m sorry, I’m-“ I hear Matt let out a breath. I know an anxiety breath when I hear one, he is panicking.
I decide to bite the bullet, what’s the worst that can happen. I look up slightly and peak through my fingers.
His hands are up and frozen. He looks almost frantic, Matt looks like the only way he knows how to ground me is by hugging me or something, but he seems unsure if that’s okay.
Despite myself I let out a little nod. Matt lets out another breath but this time he actually touches me, and I don’t flinch.
He holds my wrist and gently pulls my hands off of my face.
I let out a shaky sigh. I can’t help it when I let my head fall forward.
“It’s okay.” He says sweetly under his breath. He puts his hand under my chin as he picks my face up. Our eyes lock. I see the way Matt is also crying, tears running down his face too and I relax just a little.
He never seemed like the type to make fun of someone for crying, but especially not now.
“You wanna go to my car?” He says softly, not in a way where he is forcing me to do anything, but rather offering.
And honestly as upset as i am I have to weigh my options. Would I rather cry in the school hallways or in Matt’s car?
The best option would be to go to the bathroom, but Matt wouldn’t be able to come with, and honestly I would feel too bad leaving him alone at this point.
So I nod.
I feel Matt’s arm go around my shoulders as he hugs me for a moment. He turns me, and starts walking in a way where his arm is still around my shoulder keeping me close to him.
We walk out to the parking lot. I watch as Matt unlocks the car and opens the door for me to enter.
And by this point, if I go out this way so be it…
Before i can even register Matt is also getting into the backseat next to me.
We just look at each other for a moment. He breathes out another anxiety sigh.
“You want a hug?” And with that I don’t really know if he’s asking for me, or to comfort himself. But regardless I nod.
I feel his arms come around me and I sink into the feeling of his hug.
I’m uncertain if by tomorrow he’ll act like this all never happened, or if he’ll try to get to know me, because I’ve been wanting to know him for a while and I would more then gladly let him.
Masterlist
A/n: I know this is really short and I’ve been uploading a lot of angst recently. But I’ve been feeling sad, and every time I do write smut it’s for Kinktober. Soon you’ll get smut tho. Also this ended up a lot like crybaby. <3
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
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