#his crush isn’t panning out

[ghostfacd]

𝙄𝙉 𝘼 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙐𝙇𝙇 𝙊𝙁 𝙈𝙀𝙉, 𝙃𝙀’𝙎 𝘼 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x fem!slytherin!reader

genre: fluff, sweetheart enzo, brief suggestive content, enzo is a big softie basically

summary: in a world filled with men, there’s lorenzo berkshire, a sweetheart and gentleman

Lorenzo Berkshire was a sweetheart.

Everybody knew that the down to earth Slytherin couldn’t hurt a fly even if he wanted to, and weirdly did not fit the stereotypical mean Slytherin persona despite hanging with Draco and his friends.

In fact, a lot of things that Lorenzo did were out of the ordinary for his crowd of people. Whenever Draco would pull a first year by their backpacks so their bodies would fling back, Lorenzo always muttered an apology after, offering the first year a cookie the next day. It was just who he was; he was a sweet boy, and that often meant he was also very clueless.

Sure, he was smart in his classes, but in everything else? Lorenzo was practically the virgin of all virgins.

“Her eyes are up here Enzo,” Pansy teased, watching as Lorenzo’s eyes finally shifted off your chest to look at Pansy in the eyes.

“Huh?”

“Well I know they’re nice,” you tease further, “but it’s rude to stare, y’know.”

“Oh,” Lorenzo’s eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. He’s either great at playing the dumb role or he genuinely has no idea what you and Pansy are inciting.

“What do you mean?” Lorenzo then moves his hand over to touch the gold colored necklace on your neck. “I was just looking at the new necklace you got. It’s nice.”

Oh. You didn’t think anyone would notice your new necklace. You bought it over the holidays when you went back home with your family, and had just started wearing it now.

“Thanks Enzo,” you say, placing a kiss on his cheek. He pulls back flustered, but he mutters a you’re welcome under his breath.

“LO BOY!” Lorenzo is quickly pulled into a headlock by no other than Draco Malfoy, who seems to find his friend struggling hilariously funny. “Oh what’s wrong Lo? Got your head in a knot?”

“Boys.” You and Pansy mutter, rolling your eyes as you both get up from your seats, heading to the much more quiet Great Hall.

- - -

The next time you see Lorenzo is in your Potions class. He’s on the left of you, and you’re almost falling asleep at the boring lecture of your professor. He always seem to talk more than actually teach how to mix potions.

“Pssst,” Lorenzo mutters to your partner as he hands her a slip of paper. “Be a peach and pass it to Y/N?”

Your partner, who has developed a little crush on Lorenzo only blushes, accepting the piece of paper and tapping you on the shoulder.

“Here,” she says, “it’s from Lorenzo.”

Your eyebrows quirk up, slowly unfolding the crinkled paper.

Your hair is pretty today

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a smile. Lorenzo just knew how to swoon a girl over, didn’t he? He doesn’t even have to try and your knees would still feel weak.

So my hair isn’t pretty on other days?

You scribble down, passing it back to your partner who passes it to Lorenzo.

His eyes grow wide when he reads it, opting to shake his head quickly.

“Not what I meant,” Lorenzo mouths.

“I know,” you mouth back, giving him a smirk. “Thank you Enzo.”

And you both end up more pink than the potions that were made in class that day.

- - -

“What do you even do in your free time?” Theodore asks, poking Lorenzo’s cheek repeatedly to annoy him. “Like read?”

“Like read?” Lorenzo mimics back. “Yes, I read. You should too Teddy, it’d be good for you.”

Theodore rolls his eyes, “I don’t need to read. And don’t call me Teddy.”

When you arrive in the dining hall, Theodore and Lorenzo already make a space for you to sit in between them. Usually, Pansy and Draco would be sitting across from the three of you, but today, they were off doing Godric knows what.

“Pans and Draco not here today?” Lorenzo asks, still focusing on the assignment he was finishing up before dinner ends.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. “No idea what they’re doing.”

“Oh,” Theodore chuckles, “I have a few ideas.”

That makes the two of you burst out laughing, and Lorenzo finally looks up from his paper.

“What?” He asks. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Enzo,” Theodore places a hand on his friend’s back, “never change.”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes, shrugging Theodore’s hand off. “Whatever that means.”

When Theodore finally heads off to the Slytherin common room, you and Lorenzo are left alone, the small conversations of the other students surrounds the two of you.

“Working hard on that assignment,” you say quietly to Lorenzo, bringing up your hand to pull a few strings of hair that were poking his eyes.

“Well someone’s gotta be the smart one in our friend group,” he says teasingly.

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not smart?” Your hands start to wander, coming to each of Lorenzo’s sides to tickle him. He was especially ticklish around his abdomen.

“H-hey! Stop that!” He laughs, pushing your hands away. “Okay okay, we’re both the smart ones.”

“And Pansy,” you add.

“And Pansy.”

- - -

When you walked out to the lake that sat across from the Slytherin common room, you didn’t expect to find Lorenzo feeding the ducks. He was crouching, softly throwing a few pieces of crushed up bread at the ducks that now surrounded him.

“What are you doing Lo?” You ask, walking beside him.

“Not too loud,” Lorenzo says, “you’ll scare them away.”

He continues doing what he does before he runs all out, deciding to finally turn to you and throw an arm around your shoulder. “Evening.”

“Evening Enzo,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was out of habit, and you did it regularly, but it didn’t stop Lorenzo from blushing every time it happened.

“I was feeding the ducks,” he explains, although it was pretty clear what he was doing. “I like them, they’re nice and pretty. Draco sometimes throws rocks at them, so it’s kind of my way of apologizing for him.”

You ruffle Lorenzo’s hair slightly, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. “Oh Enzo, you sweetheart.” But he doesn’t hear you, instead, choosing to admire the scenery of the lake.

- - -

“You know what’d be funny?” Mattheo says, already laughing before he could get out the rest of his sentence. “If we pied the girls. Pansy and Y/N.”

Lorenzo’s ears perk up at this, but he keeps quiet. Why was his friends always looking to get into trouble?

“They’d totally kill us,” Theodore comments.

“That’s why we have to do it.”

The boys had already gotten two pies and their plan figured out before Lorenzo could stop them. He watched as they hide it behind their backs, approaching you and Pansy who were both engrossed in your conservation.

“Wait,” Lorenzo mumbles, quickly following his group of friends. When he sees their hand from their back move as they speak to you and Pansy, he steps in front of the two of you, getting hit straight in the face with the two pies.

“Huh..” Lorenzo says, wiping away the whipped cream that was covering his eyes. “Key lime.”

“Enzo,” you say, knowing that this was probably one of Mattheo or Draco’s dumb ideas again. “You guys apologize to Lorenzo right now.”

The three boys sigh defeatedly, muttering a quiet sorry to their brunette friend who’s still wiping the whipped cream from his face.

“Why’d you do that Enzo?” You ask him as the two of you sat down on the grass. You’d finally got all the whipped cream off his face with a towel, and although Enzo won’t admit it, he was kind of grateful he did end up getting pied. After all, a pretty girl was cleaning him up after all, and not just any pretty girl, his close friend.

“Cause you’re too pretty to get pied.” He shrugs, which makes you smirk.

“Too pretty?”

“Well yeah,”

You laugh at Lorenzo’s honesty, and finally, you lean in to give him a kiss on the lips instead of the side of his cheek.

“Did you just-”

“Shh,” you say, grabbing ahold of his hand. “Just let me appreciate you right now. In a world full of just men, you’re a gentleman Enzo.”

And Lorenzo only smiles, knowing he’s finally got the girl of his dreams.

#lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x you #Theodore Nott #Draco Malfoy #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #louis partridge #louis partridge x reader #louis partridge x y/n

[gojonanami]

GOT YOU - SATORU GOJO

☆ summary: satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time. (in other words, feral dub gojo had me by the throat). ☆ cw: 18+ only, dead dove, do not eat, smut, yandere!gojo, non/con (at the start), dub/con, mentions of noncon masturbation w/ clothes/in bed, manipulation, gaslighting, light choking, degradation (slut, whore), fingering (f!receiving), panty sniffing, oral (f!receiving), breeding kink, cumplay (slightly), multiple orgasms. ☆ wc: 3,132

“Got you,” a familiar voice hums in your ear, and the floor was yanked from under you - mentally and physically, because now you were pinned to the floor, looking up at the same blue eyes you had prayed you would never see again, “miss me sweetheart?” 

And he knew the answer from the wide eyes and trembling lips, but that only made him all the more eager. He leans down, pressing his lips to your soft cheek, “come on, baby, not even a hello? I’d even settle for a kiss or a smile,” he pouts, feeling your hands squirm under his grasp, as he straddled you, “trying to wave hello? Thought we were closer than that,” he hums, “don’t I deserve a warmer welcome, after all the effort I took to find you? To wait here all day for you,” 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat, harsh and bitter, as bitter as the words you wished to scream at him - but you know that would get you nowhere, “how about you let me go, and I’ll give you the welcome you deserve?” And the quaver in your voice isn’t what gives you away, he knows you all too well, and you know he won’t let you go that easy. 

“Aw baby, I'd love to believe you,” he sighs dramatically, “but after I lost you for two years, I can’t risk you slipping away again,” he noses your neck, inhaling deeply, “I had to have such patience over the last few weeks, had to make sure you hadn’t picked up on my presence, and you didn’t,” he grins, as he traces a finger down your jaw, “you know how hard it was? I spent so many mornings in your bed after you went to work, slept in it, still warm from your body, and I could smell you,” his lips curled into a smile that would have been so gorgeous, if it weren’t terrifying, “made me so needy for you baby, I had to relieve myself,” he admits with a sigh, “luckily, your hamper was full of clothes with your scent, and in your bed, it made it even easier,” 

And your stomach twisted at the thought of him touching himself in your bed — and oh god, with what clothes? 

His thumb brushes against the length of your cheek, “why did you run from me, baby?” and you’re silent — he knows why you ran. 

Satoru Gojo was perfect when he was your best friend — the perfect shoulder to cry on when one of your crushes didn’t work out, when a job prospect didn’t pan out, or a friend had hurt your feelings. What you didn’t know was he was the reason none of these crushes ever had worked out, why a job prospect that took you too far from him didn’t hire you, and why these friends who hurt your feelings and took up too much of your time had left shortly after. But to you, he was your savior, his compassion limitless, his patience infinite — and so you fell for him, just as he knew you would. It was a drunken kiss one night when he knew you were vulnerable, when he knew that your feelings for him were so close to the surface, you couldn’t help but kiss him. And kissing lead to a confession, and then the two of you were together. 

It was perfect — for a while. 

Soon, you couldn’t deal with his jealousy — over coworkers, friends, even your family, and with his controlling tendencies — he wanted you to spend every waking moment with him, he even wanted you to quit your job, to let him take care of you, and you couldn’t handle his constant suspicion — the constant questions of where you were (even when you had told him) and the accusations that came along with them. 

So you tried to break it off — tried. The first few times, Satoru sweet talked his way back into your heart — and your bed — with false promises and sweet kisses. But that soon wore old when his promises remained broken and his kisses left you with a bitter taste in your mouth. And when you tried to leave for good once — your bags packed — he had grabbed you, held you down, and stared at you with the same paralyzing look he gave you now, lips twisted into a smile you had never seen before, as he whispered the same two words he said when he greeted you now, “Got you,” and then he added, “and I’m never letting you go.” 

“Are you going to answer?” the present Satoru snaps you back to reality with a gentle hand around your throat, his thumb running over the hollow, before he kisses it, “or should I make you?” 

“Satoru, please, stop—” 

“That’s what you always say, baby,” he rolls his eyes, as if he was exasperated, “and then you always end up under me, begging for more,” and he squeezes your throat lightly, “nothing but a little slut, aren’t you?” and you gasp, as he loosens his grip again, “have you whored yourself out to any of those men at work?” and he’s grazing his teeth against your jawline, “if I leave a mark, that should keep them away, right? They’ll know you have a loving boyfriend — one who’s not afraid to claim what’s his,” and he’s smiling again, “now, tell me, have you slept with anyone else?” 

And you don’t want to answer — the answer’s no, you hadn’t, but you didn’t know whether that would make it worse or better. But his hand around your throat tells you, you don’t have a choice. 

“No, I haven’t,” you confess — and his smug grin only serves to irritate you, as he sighs far too contently, parting your legs as he moves to settle between them, “please don't—” 

“I have to check, don’t I, princess?” he murmurs, and his hand is drifting up your tight skirt, “such a slutty skirt for someone who hasn’t been sleeping around. Did you wear it just for me?” and he’s raising a brow, as his fingers roll your skirt higher, fabric straining as he did, “well, I don’t want you wearing it for anyone else, so—“ and the fabric tears apart, your legs jumping as he does, and his lips press to your knee, “there’s my perfect baby,” 

Your hands are free as his hands busy themselves with spreading your leg, inhaling your scent, as his fingers trail up your inner thighs. Your hands are trying to push him away, kicking your legs helplessly, but he’s got them under his grasp. Fingers pressing into the soft flesh a little too hard, and you know he’s going to leave bruises at some point or another.  

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he hums when he finds a wet spot on your underwear, “look, you’re already ruining your underwear, and I’ve barely even started  — you’ve been wanting this too,” and your hand finds his face, trying and failing to push him away, but he only licks the space between your fingers, “now be a good girl for me or I’ll make you,” the last words a growl, “and you don’t want me to do that,” but he feels you grow more damp with your slick as his fingers press against your clit through your underwear, “or maybe you do.” 

“Satoru, please don’t do this,” you’re begging, but his crystalline gaze only grows more cold, as his lips curl as he sees hot, fat tears well in your eyes, “just let me go, I won’t run. I just don’t-“ 

“C’mon now, what’s wrong? How could I ever let you go?” He coos, as he watches the first tear roll down your cheek, as he leans down and tastes it, “I need you, baby, and now that I got you,” his two fingers sneak into the elastic of your underwear, snapping it against your skin, “I’ll never let you leave my sight again,” 

You flinch from his touch, squirming underneath him, “Please, I-I’ll do anything, just don’t—“ and his thumb pressed against your lips, as his lidded eyes and smirk only draw nearer. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, don’t you remember? You asked for this — you made me promise to never leave you,” twisting the words you had muttered to him that drunken night, whispered after your first kiss with him and now he purred them as he bent down, breath warming your lips, as he tilted your chin up, “and I always keep my promises,” 

“Now tell me,” he smiles that same smile that had caught your heart, “tell me you want this,” he’s nibbling at your neck, and you’re melting into his touch — and he knows you’re so close to submission, “tell me, baby,” 

And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your body burning from his touch, “I want you,” 

His lips curl into a wide grin, teeth flashing. 

He kisses you, lips sliding against yours, and your lips shut even as his tongue tried to slip inside. And he bites your bottom lip, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips, and his tongue plunges in, as you moan, boneless and helpless. 

And his hands slide down your sides, teasing the hem of your shirt, “Fuck, baby, I’m addicted to you — you taste so good,” and he’s tugging your shirt over your head, as his lips attach themselves to your jaw. You whimper as his teeth draw marks along your jaw, before trailing a path down your neck, kissing the hollow of your throat, before leaning down to the swell of your breasts right above your bra. 

His fingers press against your soaked panties, the fabric doing little to prevent the full force of his touch, thick and mean fingers rubbing harsh circles against your clit, “Too fast,” you whine, back arching against the rough carpet of your living room, “too much,” your mouth falling cutely open and eyelashes fluttering, as your slick leaks through the thin material making his fingers grow sticky. 

“But your pretty cunt doesn’t agree, sweetheart,” he reaches around and unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, his teeth grazing your nipple before sucking, a grunt leaving your throat, heat blooming a trail down between your legs, “it wants me to fill you — fill you like you deserve,” and he’s pulling your panties down your thighs and then pulls them to his nose, “so fucking sweet,” and he’s pocketing them for later use — your cum not going to be the only thing staining it later. 

And he’s slipping down your body, kissing down your breasts, mouthing each nipple, before placing wet kisses between the valley of your chest, and down your stomach, pausing to slip his tongue into your bellybutton to make you gasp, as he hums against your skin. 

“Been dreaming of tasting this sweet pussy,” he sighs dreamily, as he settles between your thighs, his large hands spreading you open for him, fingers spreading your dripping folds, making you clench around nothing, before, not one, but two fingers slip inside with ease, making you choke on air, as he steadily begins to fuck you open, “you sure you haven’t whored yourself out baby, or do you just want my cock that badly?” and he tuts, “nah, can’t be. You’re too tight, so fucking gorgeous,” 

And you swallow thickly, hating the way his words make your resolve buckle — want seeping through the cracks, leaving only need behind — why were you weak for him like this? He knew you too well — knew where to touch, knew what to say to make you lose all sense, and he knew he could. 

And he would do it too. 

Soon enough, he’s pulling his digits from you, only the tips pressed inside as he spreads you, his mouth leaning do to press a sloppy kiss to your weeping cunt, “this pretty thing was made f’me, wasn’t it, princess?��� and his hot tongue dragging your release up and down your pussy, before his fingers sink again for a hot minute, deeper than they had until they find that spot that has you seeing stars, making you moan louder, “Ah, this is where you’re weak, right, pretty baby?” And his mouth latches to your clit, sucking as his fingers bully your walls, “fuck, you’re so wet f’me, practically leaking all over your carpet, now what will your guests think?” he hums, a grin on his lips, “maybe after I fuck you, I’ll make you lick it all up f’me, clean up your mess,” 

And his words drive you over the edge, making you cum all over his fingers, your slick slipping onto his palm, as he pulls his fingers from you as you moan wantonly, his tongue darting out to lick and clean his fingers clean, pressing his digits into his mouth, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, baby,” and he’s parting you again with the tips of his fingers, before his tongue slips in. 

And his tongue parts your cunt, beginning to fuck you in earnest now, as his jaw aches as he does, hot and warm muscle reaching depths you didn’t know were possible. He’s licking, prodding, and sucking, and your soft grunts and moans only made him even harder, straining in his pants, “g’nna make me cum in my pants baby from your taste and sounds alone,” and you’re already so close, too close — your first orgasm making you so sensitive, but right as you give that telltale clench,  he’s pulling away a moment, to watch your chest rise and fall with half lidded eyes glazed over with lust, pretty, pretty cunt quivering from the lack of sensation, and a long whine leaving your lips. 

“Want you to cum on my cock this time, baby, not in my mouth,” he says, lips and chin glossy with your slick, “we have time for that later,” and now you’re growing desparate as he just watches you, cleaning up your release from his mouth, tongue darting out to lick what he could, before using the back of his hand to wipe away what he couldn’t. 

And the plea leaves your mouth before you realize it, “Please,” you swallow thickly, your words weak and broken, “Satoru, please,” 

“Please, what?” he teases, as he pulls his shirt cover his head, your eyes raking over his abs and lingering on the v-line as his sweatpants rode low, doing very little to hide the large bulge that your eyes were glued to, “want me to split you open with my cock?” and he wanted nothing more, as he slips his pants and boxers off with ease, his dick nearly slapping against his stomach as he did, a pearly white bead of pre-cum resting on the flushed red tip, his hand grasping it, as he pumped it slowly to spread his release, “gonna have to use your words baby, don’t care if they’ve been fucked out of that little brain of yours,” 

You pout so beautifully, bottom lip quivering, all of your resistance and fear eroded away by lust and need, “I want you, need you to fuck me, please, Toru,” you squirm, thighs parting for him, “need you inside me, please,” 

It doesn’t take more than a second before the tip of his dick is pressed to your folds, “Look at you now, baby — you were begging me to leave, and now you’re begging for this cock,” and you’re moaning as he feeds your insides his dick, inch by inch, “fuck, practically swallowing me up — want to be fucked that bad baby?” And finally he’s inside you, fully seated in your sweet cunt, “or maybe, you want me to fuck a baby into you? Want me to breed this pretty pussy, sweetheart? Make me a daddy?”

And he’s starts to fuck you, hips snapping against yours — and he was unrelenting in his pace, cock breaching and bullying your insides, brushing against your sweet spot again and again. Your teeth bared down on your bottom lip, trying to hold back your noises, but he can’t have that, can he? 

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “Wanna hear every pretty sound, sweetheart, wanna hear you scream my name as I fuck you,” and he begins to fuck you even harder, hips slapping against you, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching from his cock, your sweet moans of his names, and lust glazed over gaze was almost too much for him. 

But it only made him more desperate to fuck you harder, until all you could feel was him between your legs for the next month, as he grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, making himself sink even deeper, deeper, deeper. 

And it was too much, too much for you, as you came around his cock for the first time in two years, and god, it was the most beautiful thing Satoru had seen. Your mouth parted in ecstasy as your release slicked up his cock, as he fucked your cum back into you, as your princess cunt clamped down on him hard, again and again.

You were moaning his name again and again, the only word you knew now, mouth parted open as he fucked you through your orgasm, “Yeah, baby, cum on my cock, pretty pussy was made just for that. Gonna make you cum again and again, until you can’t live without my cock between your legs. You’d like that, huh? Make you walk around with my cum inside you, even when I get you pregnant, I’ll fuck you again and again, until you’re leaking with me.” 

And you’re just moaning, nodding and broken, lost to the pleasure, as he grits his teeth, cock twitching at the sight before him, watching his dick slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release around the base of his cock. 

It wasn’t much longer, until he notched his cock as deep as he could, holding himself as he gave only shallow thrusts, his hot release pumping into you, continuing to fuck it deeper, “gotta make sure it sticks, don’t we, sweetheart” he murmurs with a smile, as he captures your lips in a kiss, cock still stuffed inside of you, “can’t let you get away from me now. It’d be much harder with a baby, won’t it?” 

And he’s easing himself out, groaning as he watches your mixed releases beginning to trickle out as the tip of his cock slaps against your weeping cunt. He pools the cum on his fingers, pushing it back in, making you flinch and moan, utterly blissed out, eyes fluttering as you gazed up at him. 

He only smiles the same way he always did, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” 

☆ a/n: i usually don't write things like this (i.e. non/con), but the dub feral gojo lines lived rent free in my head, until i wrote this (they still do, it's fine) I also don't post fics this often, but I am writing a lot of fics.

☆ tag list: @d1rtv, @crazynocturnalkiki, @ichikanu, @dazailover1900, @sinnerstardoll, @bisexualpanicwentoutforasmoke, @dumbabie, @aureatekintsugi, @mooly-artistic, @miss-nightray

#satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo fanfiction #jjk smut #satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru smut #yandere!gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere x reader

[luveline]

hi jade! may I request about spidergirl and miguel? I missed them so much. maybe that she never experience valentine's? and she didn't expect miguel to do anything since he doesnt seems like the type of romantic guy. BUTTT i dunno I just missed them dearly :(((

ty for requesting !! —miguel surprises his forgetful spidergirl!reader with a small gesture of his affection on Valentine’s Day.

“Like, purpose,” you say, running your fingers over the plush carpeting beneath you. “You have a divine purpose, and I’m your girlfriend.”

“I can’t hear you.” 

You raise your face. You can’t see Miguel, his body blocked by the white of the bed sheets in the way. “I’m just whining.” 

“Come and whine over here, where I can hear you.” 

You like his voice, so you listen. Not because he’s said it very kindly; he’s too bossy. You also like bossy, but that’s not the point. He shouldn’t always get what he wants.

“Do you not like being my girlfriend?” he asks conversationally, his broad back to you as he shakes the frying pan. He’s frying onion and potato for a tortilla española, a thick Spanish omelette made with ample oil. It’s your favourite of his many dishes, your mouth watering as you stand there. 

“It’s fine.” 

He reaches back for you and grabs at you blindly, though having a spider sense means he’s coordinated regardless. You slide under his arm, can’t believe you’re there —a few months ago he’d glare at you whenever you smiled at him, and now he’s holding you, pressing a slight of a kiss to your temple without a second thought. Though you’re sure now he’d been glaring because he was agitated to have a crush on, back then you’d thought he didn’t like you, which wasn’t half as fun. 

Still, you clocked on eventually. People who don’t like someone don’t usually spend so long looking at said someone’s lips. 

“Fine isn’t ideal.”

“You’re too clingy,” you say as you curl your arms around him. 

“I know,” he murmurs into your skin. “What do you want to drink this morning, mi hermosa?”

You can’t decide. Miguel makes you a tall glass of water, a similar orange juice, and a frankly audacious cup of hot chocolate. It’s thick enough to cling to your spoon as you stir it. 

“Alright,” you say as he puts your breakfast plate in front of you, “what did you do? You haven’t been this nice to me in ages.”

“Is that true?” he asks. 

He was sort of nice yesterday when he fixed your phone (though you're suspicious he’d only fixed it so you wouldn’t ask one of your Peters), and the night before he’d been angelic, but that was mutually beneficial. You still as he wraps his arms around you from behind, his face pressed to the side of yours, his lips a kind line. You close your eyes and lean back.

A softness touches your other cheek. You peek at it through a squint, tentative, less so when you realise the softness is the petal of a red rose, and the rose belongs to a beautiful bouquet. You breathe out a gasp of awe. The flowers are a stunning dark red and wrapped in glitzy holographic cellophane. You’ve never seen flowers that looked so pretty, petal edges thick and stems a fresh green. 

“For you,” he says. 

“For me?”

“Mm-hm.” He eases the bouquet into one of your hands. “Happy Valentine’s.” 

“Is that today?” 

“Yeah, that’s today.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. 

You fluster as he stands tall and moves away. Bouquet hugged to your chest, you turn your head to watch his movements carefully. “Miguel, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not, carino.” 

He pushes the sleeves of his shirt up and grabs the two bowls left behind on the counter. You can smell the refreshing spice of the peppery gazpacho and the lemon of the salad as he lays it out in front of you. Your stomach growls, but there are more important things to address. 

“I had no idea–”

“I hardly expect you to know what hour of the day it is, I wasn’t expecting anything.” He sits down in the chair beside yours at the table. 

“So it’s February… interesting.” 

Miguel actually laughs as you shove the flowers down and throw yourself at him. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he scolds. 

“I love your laugh,” you say, clinging to him for dear life. “I love you, I love your face, I can’t believe you got me flowers, Miguel. Miguel–” 

“Don’t act like I never get you anything.” 

I just didn’t think you’d do something this romantic, you think. It’s not fair to him. You still have the pencil sharpener he made for you when you’d haunt the workshop unbidden to him. What had he said? Something like Bring it to me when it needs charging. Well, you never remember, and yet it’s never dead. He’s that sort of romantic. “Thank you,” you say. 

“Were you still of the idea that I don’t like you very much?” he asks, pulling you into his lap with an unblinking strength. His thighs are solid underneath you. 

“Oh, no, O’Hara, you like me too much.” 

“Really?” He laughs. 

“Really. N’ I like you ten times that much, and,” —he kisses your neck— “that’s why we’re in love.” 

He scoffs at your teasing tone, breath tickling the side of your neck. “The longer you sit here trying to apologise the cooler your cocoa gets. Don’t be sorry, yeah? I know you didn’t know.” 

“I’m not trying to apologise. I’m mad. You could’ve told me it was Valentine’s coming up but you didn’t. You wanted to make me look bad.” 

He hugs you close, arm held firm to the curve of your back. “That’s exactly what I was trying to do. You caught me.” 

You lean back. He holds you tight to stop you from falling as you wrestle with the bouquet, pulling one especially lovely rose from the bunch. “Happy Valentine’s, mi vida.”

“That’s cheating, and not even half the effort I put in.” 

You press it to his chest and look up at him with every ounce of affection you have for him: it winds him. He covers your hand on his chest, pulling it over his heart. 

“Forgive me?” you ask. 

He rubs your knuckles. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

#miguel and spidergirl reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara scenario #miguel o’hara blurb #miguel o’hara oneshot #spider-man: across the spider-verse #spider-man: across the spider-verse fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fanfic #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara drabble #miguel ohara scenario #miguel ohara blurb #miguel ohara oneshot

[jenosbliss]

Can I request nct dream reactions to being on the kiss cam with reader, can be established relationship but also friends to lovers?

🍶 ⌇ nct dream ! reaction to kiss cam

paining. gn!reader x nctdream | genre. fluff | wc. 1.3k | warnings. none

MARK. as your friend

You were Mark’s friend, just like how Chenle was his friend, or Jaemin or Jeno or- but for you he wasn’t just a friend because friends love each other platonically not romantically.

For you it was anything but platonic. In simpler words you had the biggest crush on Mark and always gave him hints but he was just too oblivious.

During the match Mark sat between you and Chenle, happily enjoying the game paying no attention to the kiss cam. It wasn’t until everyone around him started cheering that he noticed the cam. Laughing he commented “How could they think of us as a couple?”

Well… he said that to Chenle which made both you and Chenle facepalm yourselves. Like how could someone be this oblivious? Therefore having enough you pulled him towards you, making his eyes go wide as you kissed him deeply making his cheeks burning red. Mark would kiss you back with the same passion as you. “Dude you like me too?”

RENJUN. as your boyfriend

The moment Renjun heard the announcement about the beginning of the kiss cam he got tensed. What if you both end up on it? Would he have to kiss you in front of the whole stadium? No way, Renjun isn’t the PDA guy.

Therefore he engages you in a conversation and doesn’t let you even watch the screen of the kiss cam and let’s say he successfully dodged it the first time. Renjun didn’t even let you notice the booing of the people around you.

But the camera had other intentions. He panned the camera on you both once again and this time the audience made sure both of you noticed. Renjun this time just stood up grinning widely and kissed his glass of coke making everyone boo at him again.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” you asked. “It’ll be awkward, you know, in front of all these people.” He knew you felt bad about his actions and Renjun somewhat regretted them too. So the next time you appeared on the kiss cam, he mustered up the courage and with rosy pink cheeks he finally leaned in to press a soft lasting kiss on your lips making you blush as well. “I love you.”

JENO. as your friend

The moment he spots himself on the kiss cam with you he’ll let out a small chuckle while crossing his arms to indicate he can’t kiss you. Boy is already going crazy at the possibility of kissing you and he wants to but the thought of making things awkward stops him.

Jaemin beside him along with the others shouts ‘kiss! kiss!’ trying to push his friend into confessing his feelings but all this only leads Jeno to place a soft kiss on your cheeks which may have unleashed a swarm of butterflies in both of your stomachs but left everyone around you booing.

“Are you for real?!” Jaemin scoffed at his friend’s gentlemanly action which even left Jeno a bit disappointed and thinking only if I had a bit more courage… Maybe the cameraman heard his silent prayer and zoomed the camera on both of you again. This time Jeno gathered himself and asked “Can I kiss you?”

The moment you nodded your head he softly brushed his lips with yours for a few seconds before breaking away to the cheers of everyone around you and ending the sweet moment with a whisper of “Let’s do it properly later.”

HAECHAN. as your boyfriend

His determination to be on the kiss cam began when you jokingly sent him a reel about one out of hundreds of reels you send him on a daily basis. Kiss cams started appearing everywhere for him, instagram, YouTube, twitter… “THEY ARE EVERYWHERE!”

So it’s better to say he’s buying basketball match tickets to be on the kiss cam with you. It’s a part of his bucket list now. Dude has been recklessly buying the tickets for every game this season and will continue to until he comes on it.

He would be restless throughout the game waiting for the kiss cam and when it started he would try anything and everything to get the attention of the cameraman, like suddenly being too touchy with you or holding hands and waving.

And the moment you both appear on the cam boy would literally pounce at you, would kiss you so passionately, moving his leg to your lap and pulling you towards him. “This would definitely land on the Best Kiss Cams Compilation.” he smirked, wiping his lips and breathless “Woah”

JAEMIN. as your boyfriend

When he noticed himself on the kiss cam with you he would just smile brightly, shaking his head a bit as he is amused by the situation.

Jaemin then would slightly nudge you in the shoulder to get your attention, it seems like you still haven’t noticed the kiss cam. But when you do you become all nervous and shy, avoiding eye contact with him.

He would notice your nervousness and hesitation and ask “Are you comfortable with me kissing you?” You knew Jaemin loves PDA and you do too, but kissing in front of all these strangers made it a little awkward. But how can you say no to him?

When you nod in a yes, he would gently place his hands on your cheeks and lean in to place an even delicate kiss on your lips. Jaemin would tilt his head in such a way that your kiss won’t be visible to everyone, so you don’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. “You know you look so cute while blushing.”

CHENLE. as your best friend

Chenle came to the basketball match with only one goal, to focus on the match and enjoy it.

But the moment his eyes fell on the kiss cam which captured you a sense of thrill and warmth filled his chest. He would have ignored the cam but who was he to miss a chance of kissing you. He just had the biggest crush on you.

Boy was so occupied in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice that the cam zoomed in on you, him and Jisung. You were sitting between both of them, therefore they had equal opportunities to kiss you. Chenle only focused on you and didn't notice Jisung on the screen as he just shrugged his shoulders inching closer to you “Don’t worry I’ll do it.”

But the moment he saw Jisung on the screen, both of you laughing at the situation, he got nervous… What if you kissed Jisung instead? Therefore he pulled you by arm and placed his other hand behind your neck, kissing you feverishly leaving everyone laughing at his antics, Jisung shaking his head and you in disbelief. “I like you and even the thought of you and Jisung made me lose my mind… will you be my girlfriend?”

JISUNG. as your boyfriend

Your relationship was in the blooming stage when one day Jisung returned with 2 tickets for a baseball match. It’s only been a few weeks (more like two and a half weeks) and watching a baseball match was the perfect date to share sweet memories.

The moment the announcer announced the beginning of the kiss cam Jisung became nervous thinking what if you both appear on the cam? Will he have his first kiss with you in front of thousands of random strangers? Will you be comfortable? Will it make things awkward?

And when you guys did appear on the screen his panic skyrocketed through the roof. His face burning red he would ask you “Do you want to do it?” an awkward smile plastered on his lips, fidgeting his fingers, heavy breathing and when you say yes he would become even more nervous, performance pressure some might say.

Leaning awkwardly with claps and hoots all around you he would softly place his lips on yours, hands holding yours, deep red adorning his cheeks and eyes closed. But the moment he kissed you every worry and nervousness of his would vanish and all he could think about was the feeling of your soft lips on his and he drowned in this feeling, in you. “I’ll remember this forever.”

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv navigaation.

a/n. thank you anon for requesting this reaction and i’m really sorry for the delay in posting :(

#nct dream #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #mark #mark lee #renjun #jeno #haechan #jaemin #chenle #jisung #park Jisung #nct #nct dream fanfic #nct dream reactions #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct fic #nct imagines #n

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 36

Part 1 Part 35

Will’s skin feels tight, stretched over his bones as he tosses and turns into the morning. It’s a relief when the sounds of Mom burning breakfast filter into his room.

“Shit, shit,” she says, pans clattering as she moves them from one burner to another. 

WIll crawls out of his bed, limbs lethargic. His socks have gone wonky in the night – all his tossing and turning making the heels twist to the front of his ankles. He slides them around on the carpet, shifting them around without having to bend over.

He shuffles into the kitchen, settling quietly at the table, feet up on the chair, chin on his knees as he watches his Mom cook. 

She’s scrapping crisp scrambled eggs onto a plate, muttering to herself as toast pops from the toaster. 

Jonathan stumbles out of his bedroom, drawn by the sounds. His pajama pants are too long, trailing across the floor, making him trip on the hems. He grabs the toast without a word, plucking the butter from the counter and coating them liberally before bringing it over to the table.

“Sleep okay?” he asks, sitting down beside Will.

Mom turns, holding the burnt eggs and mushy hash browns on separate plates. “Oh, sweetie,” she says, hurrying over and putting her own bounty in the middle of the table. “How long have you been here?”

“Just got here,” he says, looking down at his knees.

It’s not that his Mom hasn’t always paid attention to him, but it’s grown sharper in the days since he got back from the Upside-Down. Like she needs to catch his every word. Like if he leaves her sight, he’ll disappear. That’s how she’s looking at him now.

Jonathan goes to grab forks and plates, heaping food onto Will’s plate before getting his own. 

The eggs are rubbery, over-cooked and under-salted, and the potatoes are more water than starch. Will eats it all.

There's been a pit in his stomach since he got back, like no matter how much he eats, there’s more space to fill. The doctor’s had said that was normal – just his body's shock response to food scarcity. It’d go away.

“Can I go see Steve?” Will asks.

Steve’s been so still, every time he’s visited. They’d shaved his head, and it made him look young and small and washed out; nothing like the boy with the gun or the boy with the broad back, always standing between them and danger.

But, maybe that’s never who Steve’s been. Maybe he’s always been small, and tired, and scared, just like Will. He just wishes Steve would wake up.

He hasn’t, not since Eddie’d brought him back. No one would tell him what happened, but the way Eddie refused to leave the room entirely said enough. Will isn’t sure he wants to know anything more.

He just wants Steve to open his eyes.

“I have to work,” Mom says, lips pursed. 

She hasn’t been to work since Will got back. Neither has Jonathan, and money’s got to be running thin. 

“I can take him,” Jonathan says, meeting his Mom’s eyes. Something Will can’t parse passes between them, before his Mom slowly nods, reluctance in every move.

Jonathan drops Mom off at work, and then they go, Will crawling between the seats to settle in the passenger seat. 

“Do you think he’ll be awake?” Will asks, staring out the windshield as Jonathan parks the car.

“I don’t know,” Jonathan says, unbuckling his seatbelt, not looking WIll’s way. “I hope so.”

They’ve been here enough that they don’t need directions to Steve’s second floor hospital room.

Eddie’s sitting beside Steve’s bed, like he has been every time Will’s come by. He’s wearing blue scrubs like the nurses do, and there’s no blood on his face. He looks tidier than Will’s ever seen him. 

Steve’s laying down, oxygen tubes taped below his nose.

“Will.” It’s Steve’s voice, scratchy and tired, but Steve’s. 

Will rushes to his bed. Eddie’s blocking access, so Will clambers over his legs, accidentally crushing his toes in the process. Steve looks washed out and tired. But his eyes are open and he’s smiling up at WIll.

Will bursts into tears. Steve holds up his arms in offering, and Will burrows carefully into Steve’s chest, keeping most of his weight on the side of the bed, unsure of where the injuries lie.

“Steve,” he hiccups. “They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

He’s not sure if he’s talking about the doctors, or his Mom, or Eddie himself.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, clutching the back of his head. “I’m fine.”

Will laughs, “liar.” Someone’s hand runs up his back. Jonathan’s or Eddie’s, it doesn’t matter. Everyone he cares about is safe. Everyone in this room is safe. 

They’re home.

When Will calms down, shuffling back awkwardly from the boy he barely knows, Steve smiles up at him, and it’s like something clicks into place. Steve is Steve. That’s enough.

Jonathan is sitting next to Eddie, shuffling uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “Thanks, man,” he says. When Will looks back, Jonathan’s looking down at his lap, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “For saving my little brother. I don’t know what I would’ve done if–” 

His voice breaks, throat clicking as he looks down at his fumbling hands. Steve clears his throat. “Hey, man. Your brother’s a badass. He would’ve been fine.”

Will thinks about the endless hours alone in that dark, quiet place before he’d run into Steve and Eddie, and doubts it. It was like each second there sucked a little bit more out of him, leaving silence in its wake. He’s not sure what would’ve crawled out of the Upside-Down in his place. 

Will smiles down at his shoes as Eddie chimes in, “yeah, baby Byers definitely saved my life.” 

He can feel his cheeks flushing.

“Well, still,” Jonathan says. “Thanks.”

Steve clears his throat. “Anytime.”

Will sits on the side of Steve’s bed, unwilling to leave now that he’s here. It’s like, when he’s with Steve and Eddie, something comes back that the Upside-Down scooped out of him. And everything else is purgatory.

He’ll be trying to sleep, or talking to the party, or listening to music with Jonathan, and it’s all hollow. He’s just waiting.

But right now? Will’s here, and he’s staying as long as he can. 

Part 37

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #will byers #my fic

[alloftheimagines]

roy kent | just friends

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI

words: 3k

warnings: strong language because it's roy fucking kent, mentions of alcohol but not intoxication, bad date experiences with rude and not nice people, including comments on reader's body.

single parent!reader (they/them, bi/pan) x uncle roy in which he is your best friend and go-to babysitter when you have an awful date that ends early. protectiveness, hurt/comfort, and a heated confession ensues.

prompt: Roy Kent x Reader, Friends to lovers?

You’ve never been more relieved to be home, even as the sound of screaming children drifts from your house. You press your forehead against the cool door, taking in a deep breath. “Past their bedtime. Again,” you mutter, but your best friend allowing your daughter to have a late night with his niece, Phoebe, is the least of your worries after what you just experienced. 

Horror. Pure horror. 

“Oi!” you hear the deep, gritty voice of Roy Kent echoing down your hallway. “Come back ‘ere and do my other hand! Can’t be walking around with only one set of fucking nails painted!” 

Giggles follow, and you smile despite yourself. They give you the energy to open the door finally, and you step in to find your hallway lit brightly, Phoebe flying out of the kitchen with chocolate smeared across her face and bright blue nail polish in her hand. 

“Don’t be getting that on my carpet!” you warn, alerting everyone to your presence. 

Your daughter, Maisie, skips out next, waving. “We’re painting Uncle Roy’s nails!”

“Lucky Roy!” She’d been calling him “uncle” for the past year, though neither of you is related to the footballer-turned-manager. Maisie picked it up from Phoebe, and Roy hadn’t seemed to mind, since you’re practically best friends anyway. You’re constantly trying to tire the kids out with play dates at one another’s house, or else exchanging babysitting duties so one of you can have a free night. Of course, Roy isn’t a single parent like you, but he watches Phoebe enough that you’ve formed a bond over the years, one that stemmed from your shared love of your chaotic children. 

That bond has blossomed into something much more than you bargained for, though. After all, he is Roy fucking Kent, and his rough exterior matched with his hidden, softer side was always going to be your downfall. But since he’s been in and out of relationships and never made a move, you’ve let the small crush lie, trying to distract yourself with dates. 

Terrible, terrible dates.

Like the one you had tonight. 

“You’re back early.” Roy emerges last, leaning against the doorframe as he blows on his wet-varnished nails. “It wasn’t the one who speaks like someone’s pressed fast-forward on the TV remote again, was it? I told you they’re a loser.” 

“No. No, it was someone far, far worse than Fast-forward Frank.” You sigh and try to ignore the flickering in your chest, because gruff footballer Roy Kent is currently being pampered by two ten-year-olds and seems to be enjoying every minute. 

“Fuck,” he deadpans. “I’ll grab the wine.” He wanders back into the kitchen. 

You huff again, kicking your shoes off your aching feet and heading into the living room, where the girls are painting one another’s nails. It was at least nice to snuggle up on your couch and watch, legs curled under you. They’re arguing, of course, but you’re good at tuning that out most of the time. 

“You look very nice, Y/N,” Phoebe compliments. “Are you dressed up for my Uncle Roy?”

“No.” Even so, your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but hope he noticed your appearance before you left earlier. In fact, you’d been wondering all through dinner why he’d pursed his lips, jaw ticking, as he’d looked you up and down with shiny, dark eyes. It hadn’t exactly been the look of a man who lusted after you. More the disapproving stare of a father about to tell his child to go and change. “I went on a date.”

“What’s a date?” Maisie asks.

“14th of April,” Phoebe answers confidently. You smirk, glad when they return to their own little world. 

“Right girls,” Roy says as he comes in. “Go and play upstairs, now. We’re talking about adult stuff now.”

“And you should be in bed,” you remind, because you suppose that one of you has to be the responsible parent, and it certainly isn’t him.

The kids groan but trudge out of the room, leaving you in peace. Somehow, that’s even worse. You don’t really know why; you’ve had lots of awful dating experiences, but tonight, you’re just… exhausted. You don’t want to have to keep searching for something that most people find without a problem. You don’t want to meet new people who you don’t connect with, don’t even really like, just because the alternative is sitting at home with only a child for company, or sometimes Roy. 

Roy places the wine on the coffee table and raises his brow. “Go on then. Tell me what was wrong with this one.” 

“It’d be quicker to tell you what’s right. They started by telling me to put a blanket under me in their car so I wouldn’t scuff their leather seats. And then when I told them I had a kid, they looked me up and down and said ‘ah, yeah, I can tell. Have you looked into cosmetic surgery?’” You wrinkle your nose as Roy scoffs. 

“You’re joking!” 

“I wish I was joking.” You rest your head against the couch cushion, closing your tired eyes. “They tried to order a salad for me after that. I told them fuck off, I’m having the garlic bread. They didn’t like that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have their address?” Roy is already scrambling to get up, and you aren’t sure if he’s joking or not. 

You roll your eyes and tug him back down. “Stop it.”

“I’m not fucking joking. Where does this wanker live?” 

Okay, you realise. Not joking. His jaw is clenched, brows even more furrowed than usual. You’ve seen him angry before, but never… seething. It rolls off him until you yank him down a second time. 

“I don’t need you to beat them up. I need you to drink wine and tell me I’ll find the right person one day.” You pout as you pick up your wine glass, only half-joking.

His nostrils flare, but he settles down. “You will find the right person,” he reassures. “People are just dicks. You deserve better than all that shit.”

“I wonder sometimes,” you admit. “Nobody wants a single parent. I’m a package deal, and… well, there’s a reason I’m still single after all this time.”

“Oi.” He nudges you, draping his arm around the back of your couch so you smell his aftershave. You turn into the warmth, the comfort, though there is so much space between you still. More than you’d like. In another life, he might have been the one you were looking for. In another life, you weren’t searching for a good, healthy, passionate love, because you’d found it long ago, in the schoolyard where you met. 

But you’re in this life, you remind yourself, and you’re a far cry from the people Roy has dated before. It’s clear you’re just friends. You always will be. 

You lift your brows, waiting for whatever lecture he’s about to give you. 

His eyes pierce yours. “Don’t even bother going there. You and Maisie deserve the fucking world, and fuck anyone who isn’t going to give it to you.” 

The words pierce your heart, and something damp and warm trickles from the corner of your eye. A tear, you realise too late. 

Roy sighs, the rough pad of his thumb brushing it away. You’re not surprised by his gentle touch, though most people might be. You know him too well to think him anything other than tender-hearted and caring to his core. 

“Don’t get fuckin’ upset over that prick. Please, sweetheart.”

“No. I’m not.” You sniff, feeling pathetic. “I’m just overwhelmed. Tired. That’s all.” 

His touch drifts to your hair, brushing through the strands and tucking a few behind your ear as your eyes flutter shut again. You could stay like this for a long time. For forever. He has no idea just how much you need him, how much better things feel when he’s around. It would just make sense, you and him — if you took away his fame, at least. You love one another’s kids. You’d become family over the years. You trust him with every fibre of your being as the one steadfast person you can count on. 

“Y’know, you’re the person I’d call in the middle of the night if I needed to bury a body. Or if I thought there was a ghost in my house or something,” you admit. 

His face crumples. “Ey?” 

“Just…” You lean into him, burying your cheek against his chest. “You’re the only person who hasn’t let me down or left me.” 

His movements are stiff as he wraps his arms around you, but he melts into you quickly, holding you to him until you’re not sure where you end and he begins. You hear his heart echoing in your ear. Feel the prickly bristle of his beard against your skin. It’s the safest you ever get to feel, and it’s rare you allow yourself to be so vulnerable. But tonight, you can’t find a reason to keep pretending. 

“I never would,” he whispers. “If it was me, if you gave me a chance at a family like yours… I wouldn’t fucking waste it. They’re idiots, all of them. You and Maisie are precious. You deserve the best. Don’t stop until you find it.” 

You pull away, pulse racing. It’s never felt right to address your feelings before, and perhaps tomorrow you’ll regret it. Maybe you’ll lose him, even, but you believe him when he says he isn’t going anywhere, and you have to know…

“What if I already have?”

His frown lasts for minutes, hours, as he looks down at you. And then you see it dawn on him, and you don’t want to hear how this story ends. You don’t want to be rejected twice in one night. You stumble up. “Forget I said that. I had a couple of drinks at the restaurant, and I’m all… loopy. I’m going to get some snacks. Are you hungry?” The drinks were non-alcoholic, but he doesn't need to know that.

“No,” Roy says. 

It’s all he gives you. The message has been delivered loud and clear. He doesn’t want you. Tears sting your eyes as you leave the living room, heading into the kitchen. You catch your reflection in the window and almost break down entirely. You’re an idiot, and you’ve gone and embarrassed yourself in front of the one person you can be yourself around. 

You grab a tissue, drying your tears, but fresh ones fall all the same. 

And then your back prickles and you know he’s followed you. 

“Oi,” he breathes gently, tilting your chin up as he reaches you. “What are you getting upset for?”

“I’m not,” you lie pathetically, looking anywhere but at him. “You can head off if you want. I can watch the girls tonight and drop Phoebe off—”

“Can we just rewind a minute? Do you… Do you think that you and me…?”

“No! God, no. No. No, no, no.”

“Oh.” He nods, leaning back on his heels. "So no then?"

“No!” 

“All right, I fucking get it.” He lifts his hands as though they might wipe it all away. “I just thought that’s what you were saying before, on the couch. I thought…”

“You should stop thinking, Roy.” You offer him a flustered smile, your face burning. “Honestly, let’s just forget about it.”

“Right. Fine.” More silence. And then: “What if I don’t want to?” 

“Don’t want to what?” 

He shrugs. “Forget about it. What if… we’ve both already found the right people?” 

Your body is electricity now, and you can barely breathe. “What… do you mean?”

He scratches his stubble, lowering his gaze. “Well, I could take you on a date. I’d be much better at it than the losers you’ve been seeing.”

You’re caught off-guard, hands trembling, “Is that what you’d like?”

“Well, I did. I mean, I’ve wanted to. I just… you’ve already said no. Several times. So I suppose I got my answer, and that’s that.” 

“Well, I didn’t think you saw me that way. You’ve never asked before. Is this, like, a pity thing?”

“Fuck no!” he blurts too quickly. “I mean, no. 'Course not. And you’ve never mentioned it before either, by the way. You’re always going on all these fucking dates. When was I supposed to ask? Between Fast-forward Frank and that fucking woman obsessed with her pet ferret?” 

You blink, puzzled. “I mean… if you asked, I wouldn’t have gone on dates with Ferret Fiona.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Now she fucking tells me.”

You don’t like the implication that you’ve been the one holding him back. “Well, it’s not like you’ve ever tried, is it? I mean, I’ve been single for years and you’ve never made a move, even before all this online dating palaver! And you’re not exactly easy to read, by the way. You’re always frowning, even when I’m trying to bloody well impress you! What was I supposed to think? That you fancy me when you always look like this?” You moulded your expression into a big, dramatic, brooding glower and hope it encapsulates everything that is Roy. 

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking angry now. Proving your point. “Oi! I don’t do that with my lips,” he points out. “And you’re always talking about how badly you want to find someone when I’m sitting right fucking here! That’s mixed signals, mate.”

“It was me hinting! Hoping!” you shout. “I was just waiting for a sign, or something, but you never treated me like anything more than a friend!”

“Because I didn’t want to be like that creepy Allen bloke you dated last year! He was your friend too, if I recall!” 

You sigh, realising the conversation is going in circles. You look at him. He looks at you. Both of you are breathless, wild-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and you know you’ll always remember the way he looks, standing in your kitchen, infuriated and perhaps more open than ever before, because you see it now; that dark look in his eyes was never a guard, never a sign of being just friends. It was want, need. 

It was everything you already feel. 

“Why are you two arguing?” a meek voice interrupts. You both look to the door to find the girls hovering in the hallway. 

“We’re not arguing,” you assure quickly. 

“It’s adult stuff,” says Roy at the same time. 

“We don’t like it when you argue,” Maisie says. “Especially when you’re supposed to get married.”

“What?” you question sharply, turning red all over again. 

Phoebe nods as though corroborating Maisie’s story. “We’ve planned it all. It will be next June at McDonald’s, and Uncle Roy will bring you flowers, and we’ll all have milkshakes afterwards.”

You put your head in your hands, peeking through your fingers and surprised to find that Roy is smirking. “Sounds like a shit wedding, Pheebs. Where’ve you got this idea from?” he says.

“Well, Mum said you two will end up together because you clearly fancy Y/N and it is invevitable.” 

A laugh bubbles in your own throat at her attempt to say inevitable, though you’re still too stunned to speak. 

“See?” Roy whispers. “Everyone else knew. It's fucking invevitable.” 

You shiver, lowering your hands to meet his gaze properly. It’s soft and intent, nothing like the anger of a moment ago. 

“All right, girls,” you say. “Get your pyjamas on. We’ll be up to say nanight in a minute.”

You usher them away, closing the door to when you hear their footsteps on the stairs. You’ve never been more aware of his presence, the fact it’s just the two of you — you don’t even know who you are without the kids jumping about, sticking their noses in. 

“Have I fucked it all up?” he asks finally. 

“No. Have I?”

He shakes his head. 

“Then what now?” you question. “What does this… mean?” 

“Well…” He leans against the counter, fidgety as he smiles again. “I’ll take you on a decent fucking date for starters. No kids, and no more of whatever the fuck this argument was.”

The thought leaves you feeling cracked and seeping with excitement, though you try to play it cool. “Okay. That’s a good plan.” 

“Right. Good. Then… are you free Friday night?”

You inch closer to him, timid suddenly. “I don’t know. My usual babysitter is busy.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs you toward him so that your torsos collide, and then his fingers curl around the nape of your neck and you can think of nothing but the way his lips look, and what it must feel like, having them between your thighs, beard grazing your skin. 

“You’re an idiot,” he rasps. 

“Takes one to know one.” You lick your lips, then his mouth his on yours, rough and ready and desperate. You let him in, let his tongue explore your mouth. You know you shouldn’t. The girls might come back in, might already be listening, but you’ve wanted this for so long. 

You both have. 

You’re breathless when he stops, his hands lingering just above your belly as he bites down on a groan. “If I don’t stop now, there’ll be trouble.” 

You’re not willing to let go, though, and you rest your hands on his chest as you kiss his jaw. “And?”

“And I’ve waited a long fucking time to do this properly. Give you the care,” he kisses your nose, “you deserve. Sweep you,” another kiss, this time at the outer corner of your eye, “off your fucking feet. So I’m going to.” He steps away. “Friday. Seven. Find a new babysitter, and make sure they’re free all night.” 

With that, he steps away, leaving you wanting more. 

“Uncle Royyyyy!” Phoebe is calling. “Will you read us a story?”

He grins, kisses your forehead, and then is gone. You’re not sure your knees will hold you up if you follow, but you listen to him talking to the girls, making them laugh, and you have never felt more right, more complete. 

You’re a fool for thinking anyone else could be perfect for you when the man you love has been here all along.

#roy imagines #roy x reader #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent imagine #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfic #roy kent x y/n #roy kent fluff #roy kent angst #roy kent one shot #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso tv #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso one shot #ted lasso show #ted lasso s3 #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader insert #x reader comfort #x reader imagine #multifandom imagines #imagines #fan fiction

[comatosebunny09]

Scenarios I can’t help thinking about [ ft. Asarion Ancunín ]

Following a fun shindig filled with wine and merriment and glittery things, you and Astarion wander into the hallway for a break.

The noise of the party fades as you walk side by side, your fingers idly brushing, and you both nudge each other like two enamored adolescents.

You, warm-faced and smiling like a fool, back toward a stone wall, hands clasped behind you, gazing up at Astarion. The candles in the wall sconce swaddle you both in their sensual glow.

“A lovely way to end the night, ey?” you muse from the tips of your toes.

Astarion studies you for a beat before angling himself closer. His hand presses against the wall beside your head, a smile taking possession of his lips as they pan in.

“Well…I can think of other ways I’d like to conclude my evening,” Astarion croons, fingers creeping over your hand to guide it to his lips for a tender kiss. Your gazes interlock—Astarion’s sultry and yours inquisitive—as he kisses a trail up to the hollow of your shoulder.

Astarion exhales slowly, rooting his nose against your neck, the air thick and dizzying. He husks, “Care to indulge me, my love?” nuzzling along your jawline, little puffs of air huffed against your already fevered flesh.

Your legs nearly give way beneath you. And no, it is not a consequence of the wine.

“As much as I enjoy seeing you on your knees,” Astarion purrs, his grin shit-eating and his eyes half-slit like Cheshire Cat as he peers down at you, “I don’t want you straining yourself for little old me, love. Though I do appreciate the gesture.”

You scoff. Roll your eyes as you finish tying Astarion’s boot, tucking your smile into your armor. What a cheeky little shit he is. You return to your full height after tapping his ankle. You wipe your hands on your thighs, turning away from Astarion.

“You must be a riot at galas,” you say, your voice aching with a grin.

[ Inspired by this lovely piece by @primopinku ].

Behind a goblet of viscous, red liquid, Astarion seethes.

He drums his fingers on the arm of his chair, legs crossed and nostrils flaring. He watches you with silver brows pinched and his canines digging into the lip of his cup. The metal of it bends beneath his crushing bite.

You’re beautiful. An ethereal being amid a sea of socialites all putting on a facade of elegance. You stick out like a sore thumb in your humble garb. Yet you effortlessly command the presence of everyone around you. Your kindness and airy laughter fill every nook and crevice of the ballroom. But that isn’t what has Astarion out of sorts.

He strangles the stem of his chalice, a scowl nestling itself amongst his features. A roguish hand sits at the small of your back—curse your attire for exposing such a delicious slither of skin. It’s slimy as it kneads little circles into your flesh, easing southward ever so subtly towards the curve of your bottom.

You kept shrugging out of its clutch with a nervous titter whenever it crept back onto you. Whenever gnarled fingers slid along the notches of your spine. But this imbecile wouldn’t take the hint. Tonight would surely be his last amongst the living due to his boldness.

Astarion moves without thinking. Tears through the sea of partygoers, gasps and murmurs of Your Majesty muddled by the rage pumping in his ears. He snatches the duke’s hand off your back. Twists it until bone crackles, and the man hisses with pain.

“Unless you want to lose this forever, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

No one could touch his royal advisor and get away with it.

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #astarion imagine #astarion imagines

[junowritings]

hi there ! i love your writing! could i request floyd with reader who genuinely cant tell if someone is being platonic or romantic to them; maybe them finally realizing floyd's affections towards them aren't just platonic? ty!!

Oooh all I can say is my condolences to poor reader lmao. Had so much fun imagining how this would pan out this was a cute idea! I'm glad you enjoy my stuff - hope you enjoy~ 🧡

=======

♡ Oh, well this is going to be so much fun for Floyd.

♡ Floyd recognizes a crush when he sees one. You’re a good match - you keep him entertained, and have the uncanny knack to get him to actually do things he’d usually get too bored of and ditch at a moment’s notice (Azul’s been trying to figure out how you manage that with no success because you have no idea why he listens to you either). Not to mention all of those cute little quirks and things that you do which the eel just can’t get enough of. 

♡ And of course there’s your reactions too. The way your lips quirk when you smile, the sound of your laugh and the noises of surprise you make when he swoops in when you’re least expecting him. The way that you squirm when he pulls you into those notorious squeezes of his, thankfully nowhere near as bone crushingly tight as the ones that he’s subjected some poor unfortunate souls to. Floyd adores getting any kind of response out of you.

♡ It is glaringly obvious that he’s interested in you, at least to everyone else, and Floyd’s got no problem making it known either. The only issue is that you haven’t noticed yet. It would get on his nerves a little knowing that you have no idea that his affection isn’t just platonic, but that quickly fades once he realizes how fun this has the potential of being. Just how far can he push that obviousness until you finally realize he’s interested in ya?

♡ It’s light teasing at first. Well, as light as it can be coming from a Leech twin. Floyd’s already naturally pretty casual with acts of intimacy, always throwing an arm over your shoulder or leaning up against you whenever he’s in the nearby vicinity. So why should you assume anything’s up when that arm on your shoulder squeezes you close against his side, and lingers a little longer than normal? Or that he's just a little bit clingier than usual, resting his head atop yours or on your shoulder and looping an arm or two around your side whenever you’re near each other?

♡ But then come the little gifts. Little things that have caught his eye and he doesn’t think twice about dropping into your hands the second that he sees you. Gifts from Floyd can really be anything, from things he’s found and borrowed but ‘forgot’ to give back, to things he’s gotten from trips back home and practically shoved into your hands the second he’s back. You start to question the reason behind his gifts, and start to notice other signs too. 

♡ When you come to the Monstro lounge Floyd will take food from the kitchen and add them on as freebies whenever he feels like it. He doesn’t bother telling Azul or Jade, but they’re already well aware and aren’t entirely inclined to stop him since getting you to spend time at the lounge means Floyd’s a lot easier to manage. 

♡ Gets upset if you share it with your other friends though - it’s for you, and he’ll say as much when he pushes the treat closer towards you, making sure to keep it out of your friend’s reach. Ace complained once about all the freebies you’re getting, trying to prod you to find out what you did to get the Leech twin in such a good mood and if he could convince you to get him in the eel’s good books, all the while trying to steal a bite from the free dessert you’re picking at with your fork. That is until he catches Floyd looking at him from at the bar; he’s grinning but there’s not a hint of the fondness like when he looks at you. The message is clear - hands off, and you’ve never seen Ace give up on stealing your food so fast in your life as he almost shoves the dish into your blazer pushing it back to you.

♡ You’ve always struggled to discern platonic from romantic feelings, not wanting to immediately assume one and get it wrong only to make things awkward afterwards. So even once you suspect that something’s up, it’s hard to work up the courage to actually approach it. You doubt Floyd would make things awkward if you were wrong, but you doubt your pride could handle the relentless poking and prodding he’d subject your feelings to if you were wrong about him liking you. Staying quiet about it and just enjoying these little moments seems like the safest bet, right?

♡ You made the mistake of asking his brother once, but that was no help at all. If anything it left you feeling even more confused because do you really think that Jade will break the surprise so soon? Floyd isn’t the only one getting a kick out of watching you struggle to put the pieces together, and Jade is thoroughly entertained learning how oblivious you can be to what Floyd’s actually trying to do. Those little gifts of his aren’t just for show - they’re telltale signs of a merfolk’s interest to date you. Oh dear, it really is such a shame that he forgot to mention that little tidbit to you, isn’t it?

♡ There is a point where things get serious. The moment that Floyd decides that he’s fed up toying around and running circles around these feelings. Gets a little miffed realizing that you still haven’t figured out that these little gestures aren’t just something he’s doing for the hell of it - sure, they’re entertaining, but his patience wavers quickly at the best of times. Eventually, Floyd’s going to get tired of this game. Playing games with you is fun, and he loooooves teasing his lil Shrimpy and watching your face turn into all different funny expressions while you try to figure out what exactly his angle is. But there are better things to play, and this back and forth is coming to an end sooner rather than later.

♡ Doesn’t care where it is or who’s around to notice, as soon as he sees you after deciding he’s done messing about you barely have enough time to greet him and ask what he’s doing before you are quite literally swept off of your feet with the force of his hug. His arms are tight around you as he hugs you close, and it’s just tight enough that you have a sinking feeling that he’s going to squeeze you like you’ve seen him do to the people who break Azul’s contracts. You’re trying to wrack your brain to figure out what perceived slight you did to earn the backbreaking squeeze you’re sure he’s about to give you, maybe even mentally leaving Grim all of Ramshackle’s tuna in your imaginary will. Then he stops, chin hooking over your shoulder and that one dark strand of his hair tickling your face as he presses his cheek against yours with

♡ “Hey, Shrimpy~ ya know, you got to be real dense to miss that I really like you. Maybe I gotta prove it~?”

♡ The whole time he’s saying this, Floyd is dangerously close to giving you a nibble or two. Your only saving grace is that he’s much too interested in the reaction that you give him once you realize what he’s said. His mismatched eyes rake in every detail; the way your eyes widen almost comically, mouth dropping open like a fish trying to sputter your way through some kind of response to what was basically a confession. It’s so funny! This is the reaction he’d been waiting for, and he’s not gonna relent until you really understand that this is way more than simply liking you.

♡ Let’s just hope you don’t mind the squeezes, because that’s not letting up either. Why would he let his shrimpy go when it’s better to just keep em right by his side? Especially when he wants to hear what you’ve got to say now that you don’t have to stress your silly little head over if he likes you or not~

#twst #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #floyd x reader #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland #twst x reader

[toxicanonymity]

the narrative.

4.7k, darkish!Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

"Control the narrative. You probably say that when you cum." - Roman Roy, Succession, s1 e1. PREMISE: Javi is in the middle of a publicity disaster due to his illegal activities and big mouth. Enter you (and he will). Penthouse vibe and attire inspired by Justified City Primeval. WARNINGS: I8+ ONE SHOT, dark(ish?) Javi, canon-typical lack of realism, drug references, gratuitous bulge, alcohol, praise, mention of someone sucking Javi's dick in the past, unprofessional behavior, power dynamics, pressure, DUBCON unsafe p in v (etc.), mild gun play, romance. A/N: Dedicated to @noxturnalpascal 🖤 Never thought I'd start the year with this guy, but thots happened. I only have one other Javi G. fic.

When you show up to Javi's home in the Hollywood hills, you're mildly surprised the car is stopping. It looks like any other skyrise. It's not his main residence, but he has the whole top floor to himself. You’ve refreshed yourself on the task during the ride – Javi Gutierrez is a PR nightmare lately, and he needs to be reminded how to handle press, especially questions about his recent run-ins with the law and ties to his family business. You'll run through a few practice questions with him, refresh him on the way to his event, and say goodbye. It should be simple. 

On your way into Javi’s building, the concierge greets you, then makes polite conversation as he escorts you to the penthouse. 

"Mr. Gutierrez already has company," he mentions as he uses a key card then holds the door open for you. 

You step into Javi’s apartment and the door closes behind you. It feels intrusive, just showing up in his personal space without someone to introduce you.  It's quiet for a moment, and you take in the opulence -- the sky high ceilings, the glittery floor sparkling under your modest wedge heels. You adjust your little black dress and fix your hair, then stand and wait with your bag.

You take a deep, calming breath. At least this isn’t a celebrity you have a crush on. He isn’t necessarily your type. He seems like such a teddy bear. He’ll be cool. He’s down to earth, you tell yourself, but can’t think of any evidence to support that claim. What kind of company does he have, you wonder. Is it a woman?

"One more, one more," Javi begs out of view, and your breath hitches at his voice. It's not the pitch or measured cadence you hear in the movies or even interviews. It's deep, gruff, and unpolished. "One more, Nick." 

Your heart jumps at the name. 

Nick sighs. "Alright, what are we drinking to?"

"Balas y drogas," Javi booms. (Bullets and drugs). "Brindemos" (cheers). 

"As always," Nick monotones, and you hear their glasses clink. A few seconds later, boots begin to click and echo, and they're coming in your direction. 

Entranced by the sparkle of the floor, you see a pair of snakeskin boots cross in front of you first. The boots pause, and your gaze pans up over his unexpectedly bare legs, which are muscular and only slightly hairy. Your eyes continue up over the swell of his thighs, and then–by the time you see it, it’s too late not to look right at it--a generous bulge under a blue striped swimsuit. You yank your eyes upward so fast, you almost don't see the gold pistol he’s holding at his side. Javi raises an empty highball glass, gestures it toward you, and you're studying the rings his hand when he complains, "You are early." He taps a ring on the glass and looks around behind you. “They sent you alone?”

“Yes, Mr. Gutierrez.” You introduce yourself. When you speak, he holds surprisingly warm eye contact, given his opening line. It feels like he’s really seeing you, maybe even connecting with you. 

“Please, call me Javi.” He walks around the counter and makes no effort to close his silk robe, trailing behind him.  "Make yourself a drink," he nods toward a wet bar behind him as he puts his glass in the sink. His curls are a mess, but he doesn't look bad. His strong chest glistens under his gold chain.  "Make Nick something, too. NICK--" 

"I'm right here, Javi. I really have to go." Nick greets you with an unenthused nod, "Hi,” then his phone rings and he quickly bids farewell to Javi: "I'll see ya later bud." Nick slowly staggers toward the door as he answers the phone. 

-

As the door closes behind Nick, Javi watches your face. "He has a key, you know. He'll be back," then he again urges you toward the wet bar, slightly more politely this time.  "Please, help yourself.  Why did they send you so early?"

"I'm an hour late," you tell him. His security team stalled you because he wasn’t ready.

He looks at his gold watch. "Mierda" (Shit). He meets your gaze again with apologetic eyes. "An hour late. . . maybe I do like you. . ."  The third time he refers you to the bar, you go around the counter and at least browse his liquor selection. 

A few minutes later, you're mindlessly reading the liquor bottles when you see a reflection in a bottle of mezcal. Something moves behind you.

"Tequila," Javi murmurs a few inches from your ear. “If you cannot decide.” You stiffen but manage not to jump, or so you think. "Relax, mamacita.” A large, warm hand comes to your bare shoulder, making your chest get hot. Javi’s lips brush the shell of your ear. “Relax,” he repeats. “It is only Javi.” He smells faintly of pipe or hookah smoke.

He lingers for a moment, smells your hair, then his hand trails down your bicep, and butterflies rush through your body so fast you have to step away.  He looks only slightly bemused. He checks you out even more obviously this time, then silently walks backwards through the kitchen, and you forget not to stare. You follow the way the light highlights his little belly. His happy trail leads you right to the slight swing and jiggle of the massive lump precariously contained by that swimsuit. How much of it is balls, you wonder. And at that moment, he reaches down to adjust himself before turning around and heading to his bedroom. 

Your face is on fire, and you’re tingling down South. You pour yourself a drink. You need one. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer quite a view of the city. It feels like Javi is taking a long time. In the distance, he begins to sing. You didn’t expect to be attracted to him, but now you have this feeling in your chest, like you’re waiting for a date with someone you like. Someone you’re still getting to know. You try to brush it off and not read too much into the look in his eyes. He’s an actor. He probably knows how to make people feel special, you remind yourself, but you can’t help but feel a little giddy as you wait. 

You take a seat on his velvet sectional. You sip your drink and begin to feel more confident. When you go to put your drink down on the nearest coffee table, there isn't much space amid the array of empty bottles and glasses, and a hookah. You set your drink on a silver tray, and only then do you realize you've disrupted the geometric residue of tiny white lines. “Shit,” you whisper. 

While Javi gets ready, you read some of his past quotes to the press. It messes with your head. Sure, he was rude to you at first, but then so warm. There’s one particular quote you’re stuck on. It isn’t too hard to imagine him saying something like this. You catch yourself feeling sad about it, not because it was so rude of him, but because of the insinuation of him with another woman.  In your mind, you know this feeling is irrational after having only interacted with Javi for only a moment. You have to compose yourself into professional mode again. 

—-

Javi returns freshly showered, wearing slacks and a patterned, long-sleeve, button-up shirt that hugs his biceps. He checks you out as he fastens his last cuff link. Then he sucks in his stomach and tucks in his shirt by shoving his hands all the way into his pants. He keeps eye contact with you as he tucks in the front, and finishes it off with a subtle cup of his balls. Then he stands normally again, and the curve of his little belly presses against the shirt above his pants. He doesn't put on a belt. He gestures for you to walk in front of him. 

Javi stays close on the way downstairs. On the elevator, you can feel his breath on your cheek. When the doors open, his hand on your back ushers you out. The soft padding of his stomach grazes your arm.

—-

Back outside Javi’s apartment, the car you arrived in – the one that picked you up at the Dobis PR office – is gone. You’ll ride in Javi’s car. His security team wants to accompany the two of you in the vehicle, and it’s clear they normally ride with Javi. But Javi convinces them to follow in another car this time. Just this once. You get into a black Mercedes sprinter outfitted with a raised roof, big leather bench seat, and a bar. 

As you settle into the van, Javi is making sure you’re comfortable, making small talk, and you just want to chat with him, but you do have a job to do. He’s sitting in the corner of the bench in the very back of the van, and you’re next to him, with your body mostly facing him. You begin to broach the topic at hand, distracted by his closeness and the aftershave molecules wafting into your nostrils. “Okay Javi, so, I’m familiar with your, uh, difficulties with law enforcement recently, and my role here is to kinda help you help yourself with that in the press.”  

He nods. 

“So let’s start where we are. Do you remember what you said when Page Six asked for a comment?”

He briefly leans in the opposite direction from you to open the minifridge. He pulls out a bottle of champagne. “Page Six, remind me which one is that.”

Is he going to make you say it? Fine. “You don't remember telling the writer her lips were made to suck your dick?” 

“That was out of context,” he mutters. You search his face for whether it‘s a joke, but he’s not laughing, and he’s not meeting your eyes.  

You ask, “Is there a context where that’s a good comment to make?” And you hope it lands softer than it sounds to your own ears. 

“Yes,” Javi nods and brushes a curl out of his forehead. He shifts in the seat and wrings his hand around the neck of the champagne bottle in his lap. “With a cock in her mouth.” Hearing the word cock in his voice gives you a zing of arousal. 

You’re at a loss for words. “Are you saying you weren't answering a question when you said that?”

“The conversation was over,” Javi nods. 

“--And she had your–”

“My cock, yes,” he confirms. “In her mouth.” He reads your face, then shrugs. “She wanted a taste of Javi, and I am afraid I could not resist.” Your mind is going places - How did that happen, you wonder. Did she just drop to her knees? Does it happen all the time? Could you have a taste of Javi? Do you want one? No, you don’t want to be just another girl.

You and Javi look at each other for a moment, neither of you completely focused, then you say the only thing you can think to say, “Fair enough,” as you close your folio. Then you can’t help but add, “Optimally, it's not the best idea to sleep with. . . certain people . . .who can make you look bad.” The thought falls apart as you watch his face, and you wonder if you're overstepping. 

“It was only a mouth,” Javi clarifies, then lowers his voice. “I would never make the love to her.” 

Now his eyes are fixed on your lips. His mind is going places. You watch him salivate over the shape of your mouth and don’t dare to interrupt his filthy train of thought. But that bulge in his swim trunks is seared in your mind. The subtle way it moved with each step. You have to stare at anything else to keep your eyes off his pants. You look at the bits of silver in his beard and the sparkle in his eyes

“Hm?” he asks and you snap out of your trance. 

“We need to control the narrative,” you mumble, as if you're thinking about work. 

“I don’t have a narrative, I have the truth. And the truth is too dangerous, mami.” He extends an arm behind you. 

The intrigue shakes you from your dirty thoughts. You shouldn’t pry, so you try not to, but having heard his explanation for the Page Six comment, you’re wondering if there really is a good explanation for how he got caught riding dirty with both narcotics and unregistered weapons.

He scoots closer, so he’s mostly on your bench rather than in the corner, and he extends an arm behind you. “I have to say, you are a smart girl.” He brushes your shoulder with his thumb. “Very pretty, too,” he adds quietly. “And very smart not to ask.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. What else can you say?

He looks you over, and his face hardens in an instant. “You should fire them,” he says. “They put a pretty girl like you in a van with me.” He scoffs. “They don’t respect you, I’m sorry to say.” 

What is that supposed to mean? You stare at him blankly, then say, “I can’t fire them, I work for them.”

“Well then you should fire your job. Quit it, the job.” You suppose he’s that out of touch. He probably doesn’t even know how much rent is in LA. Increasingly incredulous, he asks, “They sent you here alone?” 

Your mouth feels dry. You nod and try to swallow. 

His face softens. “No, please do not be scared,” he tries to recover, cupping your shoulder warmly with his palm. “But they should care more about you. You are precious.” 

“Well. . . Thanks, I think I’ll be okay,” you stammer.

Javi chuckles and locks all the doors to the van. Your upper body quickly goes cold as he settles in again next to you, his knee touching yours. How did he even do that?

He smiles darkly. “You felt that, right? In your spine?” His thumb brushes the nape of your neck, then the top of your spine.

You nod, otherwise paralyzed. 

“Fire them,” he repeats in a whisper.

You stand up just an inch to smooth your dress, and before you can sit back down, the van lurches out of nowhere.  You’re propelled face-first into Javi’s arms. The unopened bottle of champagne rolls away. Your faces are only a few inches apart. His shirt is soft, his body is warm, and you’re breathing his minty breath. The van lurches again and he hugs you into him, protectively. 

“I apologize, sir,” the driver announces through a speaker. 

You slowly begin to sit up from him. His arms are slow to release you. As you sit up, he lays a hand on your thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I should warn you,” he murmurs. “Traffic is very bad here.” 

—--

You sit there with Javi’s arm behind you and his other hand on your thigh, and neither of you speaks. He’s practically enveloping you with his whole body.

“You are thinking about it, right?”  

The pitch of his voice and a nod toward your skirt tells you what he’s talking about, and you don’t answer.  He takes his hand off your thigh only to adjust himself, and your face heats up. 

He sighs. “So, if you are the press, what should I say right now?”

After a loaded beat of silence, you snap out of it and begin to ramble, “Well, I haven't asked you a question, so you don't have to say anything, in fact, unless they ask–”

He reaches for your face. He rests four fingers on the side of your face, then brushes his thumb over your lips. “Shh. I won't say it,” he whispers. “That this press is the most beautiful girl. . .” Your lips part and let his thumb into your mouth, but your tongue pulls back.

“That I need her. . .in a way I cannot explain.” You gasp and look down. He takes his thumb  out of your mouth, then his hand drifts to his pants. “That I want to twist her legs around me like a pretzel.” The glint of his rings catches your eye, slowly moving atop his pants. His eyelids are heavy. “I should not say it, right?” 

You look at his mouth then meet his eyes again and shake your head no, ever so slightly. 

“But I can think it,” he whispers with a nod. “I can feel it,” he nods with a raise of his eyebrows. “Dios mio. . . I can have it.” 

He hugs you, slides a hand under your opposite thigh, and swiftly pulls you into straddling him with your knees on the seat and your skirt hanging loosely in his lap. You aren’t wearing stockings, but you’re wearing modest boy shorts. His hips lift up to meet you as he pulls you down with a sigh. His warm package feels even bigger than it looked. He closes his eyes and runs his hands over your back as your loins throb against each other. 

He holds your body firmly in place for a few gentle little thrusts that make you gush with each push of his bulge. Then, satisfied that you're not going anywhere, he pulls your face in for a long, steamy kiss, with his rings pressed against your cheek. As he feeds you his tongue, his hips keep moving, slowly pressing himself against you.

He pulls his face away and asks, “Do we have to go to this thing?” 

“No,” you say, pleased at this turn of events. He cups your head, and you explain, “Not at all. We wanted you to lay low. But you insisted-”

“I want to lay low with you,” he murmurs against your cheek. “Let me lay with you.”  Your insides are throbbing and swelling. His lips and the slightest hint of his teeth drag down your neck while his thick manhood hardens more against the crotch of your boy shorts. “I'll give you more than a taste, Mamacita. We're going to lay together.”  

He asks the driver to take you back to his place. Then he latches onto your neck, and you let out a little moan.  The van turns around to head back to his place. 

“I just need to text the team,” you tell him and get off his lap. You straighten your dress and begin to text your manager.  While you're on your phone, he keeps kissing and nibbling at you. 

Your manager calls, and you clear your throat. Javi occupies himself by popping open the bottle of champagne. You receive accolades for talking him out of the event. 

—--

When you're off the phone, Javi has somewhat composed himself. “Now we have all night.” He hands you a flute of champagne. A voice comes over the intercom saying there's a security matter Mr. Gutierrez needs to be briefed on. The van pulls over and Rafael, Javi’s head of security, joins you. 

“Your brother is back,” Rafael tells him. “And he's not happy about what you took.”

“Puta Madre,” Javi grumbles. “You know what he would have done with it.” 

“I know,” Rafi nods. 

“I have plans tonight, Rafi.” Javi looks at you adoringly. “The most important plans of my life.” He turns back to Rafi.  “Do you see this beautiful woman? We have plans.” 

“You have to stay with me,” Javi tells you. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

When you arrive back at Javi’s place, Rafi insists on escorting the two of you up to the penthouse. The place has already been cleaned up, and a maid is on her way out. 

“Thank you, Sandy,” Javi says as she passes by. She nods. 

——-

You excuse yourself to freshen up while Javi rants to Rafael. There's a crashing noise and you take your time coming back from the restroom, unsure what awaits. 

You come back to the main room and put your bag on a stool at the counter. Rafael is on his way out to stand guard by the door. Javi is sitting on the sofa with his pants off and his shirt unbuttoned, holding his gold pistol against his thigh. 

“I asked Rafi to give us some privacy,” Javi says. “We will not let this ruin our night.” He looks at you hungrily. “Come. Sit.” He makes space in his lap and looks down at himself. He’s wearing black boxer briefs.

You straddle him but don't sit yet. His free hand slides up the back of your thigh and he grabs a handful of ass. “You are the most beautiful woman,” he sighs. “And you feel so good in my hands.”

With his other hand, Javi nudges the golden gun under your skirt, and the metal on your bare thigh makes you flinch. “Shhh.”  He slowly slides the barrel along your inner thigh where the hem of your underwear is. He slides it lightly back and forth, breathing deeply through his nose. Then, his lips part as he rubs it along the damp crotch of your boy shorts. Your whole body erupts in goosebumps. He watches your face as he rubs you with the barrel of his pistol. He angles it upward each time he reaches your front. 

He palms your ass at the same rhythm as he massages you with the gun, as if encouraging you to ride it. Then he holds it still between his legs, pulls you closer against it, and your hips move on their own, seeking more pressure against the barrel. You twitch and gasp and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. He moves you on the gun and you grind against the barrel until you’re almost at the edge and your thighs are trembling. 

“Good girl,” he sighs. He brings the side of the barrel to his nose and sniffs. Then he makes eye contact with you as he presses his lips to the side of the barrel and dips his tongue onto the metal.  He kisses the gun goodbye, then puts it aside. “I will keep you safe,” he reassures you again. 

Javi takes your hand in his and puts it on the hard bulge and you almost come. He’s so big, and so hard, the seams of his boxer briefs must be ready to burst. He uses your hand to massage himself. At the same time, he grabs the back of your head and pulls you into him for a passionate kiss. Your palm begins to massage his shaft. Feeling the hard shape of him, you can tell how thick he is, and it's more than a handful. Your fingers cradle his balls as you massage the lower part of his shaft. He pulls his underwear down and your skin meets his bare cock.

Both his palms engulf your ass cheeks and he lifts your dress all the way up over your ass so he can see your hips before desperately pulling you fully onto him. He smacks your ass, then kneads it again and licks into your mouth as he grinds up against you. 

He gropes your breasts and pulls your dress all the way up, taking it over your head. His hands find your bra clasp, and he frees your breasts, taking one to his mouth right away. He reaches into your smooth, stretchy boy shorts and gasps at the feeling of your bare, dripping cunt. He holds his cock in his hand and brings the tip to the bottom seam of your underwear. He wedges his cock into the garment, resting against your inner thigh, then a little further, and the bare skin of his tip nudging between your slippery folds makes you weak in the knees. He puts his cock all the way into your underwear from the bottom, wet from your slick, and pulls you tight against him. You grind together and his shaft massages your clit. The pressure builds and quickly boils over, and you moan as you begin to pulse against him. 

“Oh, my love,” Javi sighs, then moans as you grind and come against his cock in your panties. “Such a pretty sight and sound.”

With pleasure still washing over you, he wraps an arm tight around you, turns and lays you down on your back as your orgasm wanes. 

His cock slides out of your underwear as he makes space to finish undressing you both. He tears your underwear down in a frenzy and can't get out of his own soon enough. Within seconds, you're both nude on the sofa in the dimly lit room.

Javi sits on his knees between your legs and pumps himself slowly, belly pushing out, eyes dancing across your body. His cock is so stiff and thick, you can't take your eyes off it. You throb and ache for it. He runs his flattened fingers through your dripping seam and moans at your wetness. 

“I cannot wait another moment to feel you, my love.” 

Javi gets on top of you, his belly pressing into you as he positions himself then notches at your entrance. His gold chain hangs and grazes your chest. He hikes your leg up and you wrap it around him. 

“Good,” he whispers.

Javi shoves into you, punching the air out of your lungs with a brief burn at the stretch. He groans as he fills you with his flesh as fast as your body will allow. “Javi,” you gasp as his girth spreads you apart. His dick twitches at the sound of his name on your lips. He sighs your name and you're almost flattered he knows it, giving you a brief twinge of uncertainty that's quickly replaced by pleasure as he withdraws a few inches then slams into you. 

“You are so beautiful,” he pants as he begins to fuck you steadily. He kisses your chest and your neck. “It was fate that you came here to me.” 

He moans and grunts as he buries his cock in you. You wrap your other leg around him. His body is solid and soft against yours.  So much skin on skin and it all feels right. You feel safe, and you feel adored. The way he looks at you, the way he feels you, moves on you, it’s like he’s been waiting for you forever. He hooks a hand under your shoulder for more leverage, and the force of each punch of his hips jiggles your breasts. He slows down and fucks you more tenderly, but still with power. The movement of his hips is fluid and smooth. 

After a few minutes, he moans, “Ohh, my love,” then sighs your name. “I have to give you my cum, I have to give it to you.” You aren’t sure, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything to disrupt this moment. You’ve never had someone make love to you this way. “I’m going to explode,” he warns.

He buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, bottoms out, and groans as he erupts deep in your core, sending you for another climax of your own. Then his lips scramble up your neck and jaw to find your lips and he kisses you passionately as warm bursts of his cum fill you up. “Mmm,” he moans into your mouth as you clench around his cock. 

When you’re both finished coming, he stays inside for a moment. “We will be joined again,” he assures you as he pulls out.

He lays half on his side, with a bit of his weight on you for a moment. He strokes your face and admires you tenderly. You excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes with you, escorting you to his master bath instead of the guest room you used earlier. He shows you his bedroom on the other side and says, “you will stay here with me.” 

-

When you come out of the restroom to Javi’s bed, you approach hesitantly. “Are you sure?” you ask. 

“I would not dream of letting you leave,” he assures you. 

#javi gutierrez #javi g x you #javi g x reader #pedro pascal characters #cw dubcon #dubcon #javi gutierrez x reader #female reader #pedro pascal x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️ #tim and eric #dark!javi gutierrez #dark!javi g

[buttsmasher]

Gage (Edited)

Been trying to go through my old stories and slowly re-upload them after I give them a review. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Tags/Warnings: Fag bashing, face farting, willing victim turned to unwilling, asphyxiation by farts, fart torture

Gage is a grade A prick. You pretty much learned that the moment he moved into the house. Your other roommate literally moved out because he couldn’t stand him. The only reason you’ve stayed is because the rent is cheap and the landlord isn’t complete trash. The other reason is that you have a sort of hate crush on Gage.

You understand he’s a prick and he seems like a bit of a fag basher, but dude has a rockin bod. And he has no sense of other people’s personal boundaries. One time when you had friends over, he walked out of his room completely naked to get a beer out of the fridge. Which you didn’t mind too much because you got front row seats to watch his ass jiggle. Your lesbian friends were mortified of course. Especially when he started to shake his hips to make his dick flop around. After that, you’ve all decided to do movie night at their house now to avoid any more incidents.

The other thing about Gage is that he’s a literal gas bomb. The dude is constantly gassy and it may make your dick strain against your shorts when you’re both watching TV and he lifts a leg to let out a massive fart. And look, if you’re secretly there taking quiet inhales of his stinky gas then no one needs to know.

It all comes to a head today though. You keep a journal, and you may or may not have written all your dirty fantasies about Gage in them. Looking back at it, probably not the best idea, but too late to change that now. 

You’re in the kitchen making scrambled eggs when Gage comes into the kitchen. “Good morning.” You mumble to him, not fully expecting an answer. He opens the fridge and pours himself a glass of OJ as he plays on his phone. He laughs at something before walking towards the kitchen table. 

“Hey fart slut, what’s for breakfast?” You freeze. Did he really just say that? He snaps his fingers a couple of times. “Yo, fag, I’m talking to you.” You slowly turn to look at him.

“Uhm, Scr-scrambled eggs?” You don’t know why it came out as a question. 

“Cool, I want cheese on mine.” He doesn’t even look at you as he plays on his phone.

“Oh, uhhh, I didn’t make enough for the both of us.” You look at the pan and push it around. 

“It’s fine, just give me yours.” 

“What?” He locks eyes with you.

“Let me put it another way. Give me your breakfast and I don’t post your dirty fart fantasies online.” You try to stay calm but you’re freaking out. You turn back around fully and focus on finishing the eggs, throwing cheddar cheese on top right before you finish. Your hands are shaking as you plate the food and bring it over to Gage.

“Anything else?” You say nervously placing the food and a fork down in front of him.

“Tabasco.” He doesn’t look up from his phone, you just do as he says. “Sit.” He says as you go to make yourself more scrambled eggs. “I gotta say, you’re pretty nasty. I mean, to like that shit, you gotta have some serious problems.”

“Fuck off.”

“I mean, to want to get on your knees to sniff someone’s dirty ass. That’s some dog level shit.” You watch as he stuffs his mouth with eggs. “Tell me, how are you any better than a dog?”

“You’re an ass.” Your chair groans against the floor as you get up. 

“Sit back down.” Gage says firmly.

“No, fuck you. I don’t have to take this.”

PFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFF

You freeze as Gage rips a five second fart. The smell hits you from where you’re standing. You can hear Gage laughing from behind you and you can’t help the shame that wafts over you. “You’re pathetic. You get one whiff of my ass funk and you can’t walk away.” You take a deep breath and calmly begin to walk to your room. “I have more where that came from, you know?” You squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to ignore him. 

PFFFFFF

A high pitched fart hisses from his ass. “See? And they can be up your nose if you ask me nicely.” You’re not even looking at him and you can just see his cocky grin.

“What do you want?” You ask, knowing you’ve already lost.

“Heh, knew it.” You hear his chair scrape against the floor as he gets up. “You just need to beg.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “Beg your daddy to fart up your nose.” He whispers in your ear.

“You’re an ass.”

“I know.” He turns you around and pushes you down onto your knees. “Beg doggy.” You lock eyes again, completely humiliated on the ground.

“Please, Gage, fart up my nose.” You say without enthusiasm. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

“Fuck, that was a big one you just missed out on. Beg.” You sigh.

“Please daddy, please make me your fart slut.” He laughs.

“Better.” He turns around giving you the view of his brief clad ass. “Get your face in it.” You do as he says, getting a whiff of the lingering scent of the last fart. “Just remember you wanted this.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFF

Airy farts warm your face as your nose gets overwhelmed by the absolutely toxic smell. It’s not like anything you thought it’d be like. “Wait.” You manage to cough out. “Wait stop.” You go to pull away but he holds you firmly in place.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He hikes his leg up slightly.

PFFFFFFFFFFFBBRBRBFFFFFTTTTTT

“Oof, that one’s gonna be bad.” He wasn’t wrong. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you're forced to endure that blast of a ten second fart. It’s absolutely eggy, and your eyes are watering. “Definitely wouldn’t want to be down there. But you’re liking this right fag?” You frantically shake your head no, wanting to pull away. “Aww, I knew you’d love my ass. Here, I’ll blow you a kiss.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFF

Another disgusting fart burns it’s way up your nose and down to your lungs. Your face is extremely warm and you can’t think straight. You strain to pull away from the toxic fumes constantly barraging your face but Gage’s hold is too strong.

PFFFFBRBRBRFFFFFFTTT

“Look, I know my brew is strong, but you’re the one who wanted this. And you begged oh so nicely for daddy to fart in your face. Who am I to get in your way of your dream?”

PFFFF PFF PFFFFFF PFFFFF

“It’s okay, I won’t judge you. Well maybe a little. Only cause you’re a fucked up a fag.” 

PFFBBRRRFFFTTT

It’s getting really hard to breathe down here. The only air you’re getting is Gage’s eggy farts. You’ve begun to uncontrollable cough and gag against his dirty briefs. 

“Man, imagine if I didn’t have these undies on. There’s no way you would survive that.” He laughs as he pulls his tight black briefs under his naked ass.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF

“Jesus, what did you put in those eggs? I bet you put in some extra fiber didn’t you?” 

“I know I’m a gassy guy, but damn, this is way worse than normal.” 

PFFFFFFFFBBBRRRRRRBRRRRR

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

Everything is spinning around you and you’re having a hard time staying conscious. 

“Is it everything you hoped for faggot?” 

PFFFFF PFFFFFFFF PFFFFTTT PFFFFF

You feel yourself slump further into his musky ass, no longer able to keep yourself upright. You can hear Gage laughing as everything fades to black. A final fart hits your nose as you finally lose consciousness. “Night night fag.” Gage lets your body hit the floor before leaving you there.

When you awake again, you’re still on the kitchen floor. The smell of Gage’s ass still lingering on you.

#face farting #willing victim turned to unwilling #asphyxiation by farts #fart torture

[zer05trange]

Roaring Sea

II. Sharlotka

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ premise: Tartaglia comes over to learn how to make apple cake. But is that really why he's in your bakery?

⋆｡°✩wc: 2.5k

⋆｡°✩warnings: fluff

⋆｡°✩ series masterlist

The dreaded moment had come. The day that you told Tartaglia you’d teach him how to make your apple cake, to get him to leave you be just two days ago. 

Though really, you concluded that he wasn’t necessarily a nuisance. You may or may not have realized you have the tiniest, little, minuscule crush on the guy. The night before, you could feel how hot your face was once Tartaglia left the shop, and how you were ever-so-slightly flustered the rest of the shift.

It was nothing, you tried to convince yourself. All that happened was that you’ve seen him twice, he has some bizarre interest in you, and he’s just a pretty boy. Archons, you feel like a middle schooler, saying you kind of “like-liked” him, but you wouldn’t even go that far.

The first stage is denial.

You took some extra time to prepare during your morning routine, even donning a nicer outfit than usual. It's not that you look bad most days, you just decided to put in more effort. Even Ivan commented how nice you look you felt yourself getting sick.

This isn't you! You're business and success-oriented, wanting to be the strong and independent woman that you grew up reading stories of, like the one that ruled your nation. But, even the Tsaritsa has her harbingers.

You continue to stay in the mindset that this wasn’t going to be anything serious, you barely even know the guy so it’s not like this is going to become an actual thing. It goes against what you want.

What you’re pretty sure you want.

It’s 6:50, 10 minutes until closing time, and you take one final look at yourself before rushing downstairs to your bakery.

“Ivan!” You yell as you get to the first floor, “Do not turn anything off, I’m making some stuff after closing.”

He stares at you, wide-eyed, as he just shut off the oven for the day, “Sorry.”

“It's fine, just take all the tips and scram,” You say jokingly.

“What are you up to?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed, “Are you expecting someone?”

“You’re getting nosey,” You remark as you put your apron on, “But, yes.”

You say the latter phrase more deadpan than the other, and that sets Ivan off, apparently.

“If this person gives you any trouble, just know I can wield a frying pan better than the Captain can wield a sword,” He exclaims in a jokingly prideful, yet brotherly tone.

His bold statement shocks you, “I’m pretty sure you could get put on a watchlist for saying that... but thanks.”

You shoo him out before 7, giving you a few minutes to yourself before anyone else was going to be around. You gather the needed ingredients and set out all your tools so you don’t have to fish them out as you go, and to keep your mind off of what disaster may ensue.

The knot in your stomach is too big to ignore now, and you want to hit yourself with how childish you were being. This isn’t you, you have to be possessed or something, you don’t

“Well, Ms. Y/N, you look nice,” You jerk your head up at the sudden voice.

You look ahead to see Tartaglia, the anxious knot in your stomach growing bigger by the millisecond. He isn’t in his usual get-up, but a grey button-up covered by an oxblood-colored scarf and black pants. His hair is slightly tousled, and his eyes appear brighter than usual. He’s so damn handsome, and this time you can’t just blame it on your bakery’s lights, not with your new-found revelation on this little crush you have.

“Hi,” you spit out as a result of your brain short-circuiting as it ran out of witty remarks.

He makes his way closer to you, this time instead of standing across from you, he comes around to where you are.

“So this is your domain of expertise, where you hone and master your craft,” He says, sparking a dismayed look on your face, unimpressed at his phraseology.

“Yes. Now, first, I want you to dice these apples,” You brush off his odd statement and hand him three red apples from your baking counter, “Then, you need to integrate the apples with this cinnamon mixture.”

“We are getting right to work, aren’t we?” He says as he takes the apples, “It’s like you want me out here as fast as possible, hmm.”

You chuckle as you get him a cutting knife, “You catch on really quickly.”

He laughs back at that, and your cheeks heat up further at his laugh.

“I’m going to mix all the powder now. Flour, baking powder, the good stuff,” You say as you move your ingredients closer to his working space.

You begin to tell him what you’re all pouring into separate bowls, meanwhile explaining to him exactly what you’re doing.

“So now, you are going to manually beat these eggs for a few minutes,” You speak up as you hand him a whisk. He gladly takes it and begins working, which shocks you. Most people would be reluctant to mix something for 7 minutes straight, but he was oddly compliant. Odd, or, you just can’t take the hint.

“You must have strong arms to be doing this for a living,” He remarks with a chuckle as he whisks the contents of the bowl efficiently.

“I do,” You say as you flex your biceps and forearms, half-joking.

You observe his actions, noticing that even through his shirt, you can see his arm muscles flex with each stir he makes. You suppose a toy maker could have built that much mass in their profession, but you’re too hypnotized focused on his actions to think much of it.

“Done! What do I do next?” You look up at his face, which dons a smile as he hands you the bowl, which was mixed well. And somehow, his cheek had a smidgen of flour on it. 

“You uhm have flour on your face,” You say as you point toward his left cheek, wondering how it could’ve possibly gotten there. He begins rubbing his hand on his face, but seems to be missing the small part of flour on him. 

“Did I get it?” You shake your head in disappointment. “Can you just get it for me?” He asks, causing you to sigh exasperatedly. You grab his face to pull it down with one hand, and you softly brush off the flour on his cheek.

While you're focused on his cheek, he is brazenly looking down at your face with a smile, almost waiting for you to look back at him. But as soon as you got your hand off his face, you went back to working on the cake.

“Right, So next we’re going to lay a layer of the batter down, then a layer of the apples, and repeat,” You bring the cake pan in front of you, “So you pour yours then I’ll put mine on top of it.” 

He begins to pour a thin layer of the batter, and you then put a layer of apples on top of it. The process repeats for a while in a focused silence, and before you know it, you’ve placed your final layer.

“Do you want the honor of putting this in the oven?” You turn to him with the pan in your hand.  

“Absolutely,” He takes the pan from you with a smile, and proceeds to place the pan in the oven. You turn around to begin cleaning up the space when you hear a hiss coming from Tartaglia. 

“Are you okay?” You ask with an undisguised worriment in your voice, quickly turning around to look at him.

“I must’ve burnt my hand on the oven rack,” He brushes off with a chuckle.

“You didn’t use the mitt? The oven mitt right next to you?” You scold him, not hiding your concern. 

You close the door to the oven and start a timer for 60 minutes, then rush over to the sink. You wet a nearby washcloth and bring it to him. You hold it on his burn, firm yet gentle, with a disappointed look on your face. 

“Idiot,” You murmur, “You need to be more careful.”

He chuckles while looking at you while tending to him. You don’t find anything laughable about his recklessness, so you look up at him to express your disagreement with his mood.

As you dab down on his hand, you notice how he has two scars on his right hand alone. One sprawls across the back of his palm, and is lengthy, yet skinny. The other is so long that it disappears into his long-sleeve shirt, yet is thick in width. You don’t know him well enough to ask about it, but it does bother you how much care, or lack thereof, he put toward himself.

“Now we wait 60 minutes for it to bake,” You speak up, still focused on the burn spot on his hand. You take the washcloth off after a while, and go toward the main area of the bakery toward the stools in front of a counter, where you take a seat, “Are you going to stand for an entire hour?”

He follows you and plops down on the stool to the right of you, staring ahead at the wall. 

“Who’s that? Is that your boyfriend?” He sings in a jokingly nosey tone.

“No, that’s not my boyfriend,” You scoff, “ That’s my friend from Inazuma. He taught me a few Inazuman recipes.” 

“Ah,” He sounds almost satisfied with the answer you gave him.

“You’re pretty good at some of the techniques,” You look at him through the sides of your eyes, “Do you bake often?” 

“I like to help around at home,” He answers, “My skills are nowhere near yours, and that's no small feat.”

“Thanks,” You respond sarcastically at his brag. 

“What’s your favorite thing you make?” He asks, which actually causes you to think.

“To make or to eat?” You look at him.

“Both,” He says, with his eyes not leaving your face and form.

“To make, probably just plain cake, it’s not difficult and many customers enjoy it,” You gaze back at the oven, “I don’t know what’s my favorite to eat, I prefer to eat what others make for me.” 

Tartaglia beams up at you, “Next time I’ll bring my favorite for you, my mother makes it so perfectly.” 

“Next time? You’re bold,” You respond with a laugh as he still looks at you in adoration.

You cut the small talk and replace it with silence, as much silence as Tartaglia would allow, and fiddle with a decorative fake glaze lily in front of you. He just taps his finger on the counter top, almost impatiently. 

You suddenly stand and make your way to the oven. You take a toothpick and check how baked the cake was, and you must’ve wasted a substantial amount of time, because the cake is almost completely cooked. You, unlike someone else you know, put on your oven mitt and set it down on the counter to cool.

You turn around to tell Tartaglia, but he’s already right behind you. A gasp of shock lets out, considering how stealthily he must’ve gotten right behind you. 

“You are so " 

“You’re so pretty.”

That got you to shut up. He smiles at how stiff you got from his sudden words as if that wasn’t a completely normal response to what he just said. And the way he said it so endearingly, without a hint of his usual teasing tone, sent a heat wave throughout your entire body. But, like everything else, you shut it down for your protection.

“If that’s your way of taking this cake home, you already have it. Share it with Teucer, and Tonya, and "

“No, Y/N, that’s my way of telling you that you’re the most beautiful woman in Snezhnaya. Or all of Tevyat, for that matter,” He responds with a serious, and slightly frustrated, tone.

“What?” Your voice becomes smaller, almost timid, at his sudden designation. 

“You’re not serious, are you?” He asks, then pauses for a moment, “Y/N, why am I here tonight?”

“You wanted to learn how to make a cake,” You respond.

“You are so difficult, Лисичка, it was never about the damn apple cake!” He cries. By then, the two of you were just an inch away from each other, your exchange of exclamations causing you to get closer and closer. Your eyes narrow at his, physically questioning his statement. 

“ just need to ” He cuts off his statement by placing his hands on your face and bringing it closer to his, before connecting his lips to yours.

Oh.

You return the favor though, and kiss him back. While still pressed together, he takes one of his hands and places it on your back, pushing you even closer to his body. He keeps kissing you, and you keep reciprocating, and that exchange continues. It continues while he walks forward, takes you with him, and presses you up against the closed oven.

He takes his hand out from your back and returns it to your face, caressing your soft cheek with his thumb. Your hand finds itself on the back of Tartaglia’s head, holding onto his thick hair as the other finds itself braced on his chest. 

If you weren’t so lost in the moment, you would’ve freaked out at how toned his abdomen felt through his shirt, but you were too gone to focus on that detail. You let go for a moment, trying to get a breath of air.

He pulls away as well, not for long, and huffs out a breath of air as if he had won some sort of battle. You suppose he had, you didn’t play easy until you let him kiss you so abruptly, but you didn’t care right now. He begins peppering your face completely, from your cheeks to your nose to your forehead, before finding your lips once again and pressing his to yours yet again. You let out a quaint whimper, which he chuckles at through his mouth before you begin to guide him down a small hallway.

To hell with the plans you have. Fuck the loneliness and the walls you’ve built around you for the sake of business. This can’t hurt you too badly.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” You ask out of breath. He nods his head like an excited child, which you smirk at before grabbing his wrist and running upstairs hand in hand.

The cake could wait to be iced in the morning.

⋆｡°✩a/n: can you tell I hate writing slow burn >:))) I just cannot keep them apart!! Thank y’all for reading :) also! I finally learned how to work my inbox so if you have any comments, ideas, or just wanna chat, please feel free!

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123 @esthelily @i-simp-for-giyuu @itsflowerdomethings

#childe x reader #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #tartaglia x you #tartaglia x y/n #ajax x reader #childe tartagalia #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #fatui x reader #genshin impact fatui #x reader #female reader #romance #fluff

[99hook]

home for the holidays

your friends get together to help tyler surprise you at a christmas party

a/n: i just wanted to write something with some of my fav comfort characters so here we are. it turned out way sillier than i thought so it’s not gonna collect dust in the drafts. enjoy babes 🫶🏼

“Something smells delicious in here” Jack says as he walks into the kitchen. He reaches for one of the brownies on the counter before Anna smacks his hand.

“Not until everyone gets here.” She sends him a pointed look. You glance up from the cake batter you were mixing and chuckled at them.

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be helping with that thing.” Skye chips in from where she stood in front of the stove, stirring melted chocolate in a pot.

“What thing?” You asked.

Jacks hand stilled as he tried to make an attempt to sneak a brownie again. His eyes adverted between you and Anna.

“Uh, the decorations.” Anna blurted, smacking his hand again before she turned him around and pushed him away from all the food. “Go help finish decorating.”

Jack nods before he walks out, and you caught the look Anna sent Skye right after. You dropped the spoon in the bowl to get their attention.

“Okay, you guys are being weird. What’s going on?” You asked. You said it harshly but you couldn’t help it. You tried not to be, but you were still sad that Tyler couldn’t make it home in time for this Christmas party.

“Nothing.” Skye shrugs, avoiding your stare. You look at Anna instead. She’s focusing solely on organizing the chocolate covered pretzels on a platter.

“Anna” You raise your brows at her.

“Hm? Nothing. We’re just trying to get everything ready before everyone gets here. We’re running short on time, is that cake batter almost mixed?”

You look down at the bowl and nod, grabbing the pan she’s handing over to pour it in.

“So what’s next?” Skye asks as she brings over the melted chocolate to pour over some more pretzels.

“Let me see” Anna scans the counter. “I think we forgot something but I can’t place my finger on it.”

“The oreo pie” You muttered as you used the spoon to smooth out the batter in the pan.

“Fuck you’re right!” Anna throws her head back. “What time is it? Six? How long does that take to make?”

“Don’t worry about it” You tell her. “I only put that on the list because Tyler wanted it when he thought he was going to be able to come. We can leave it out. I think we have enough sweets.”

“No, we should make it.” Skye says. “I like oreo pie.” She shrugs.

“Yeah, me too.” Anna nods, opening the fridge to grab some ingredients.

You placed the pan in the oven and set the timer before you turned around to help. Just then, Julia and Willow both walked into the kitchen, their arms filled with bottles.

“Sorry we’re late.” Willow says as she sets the bottles down on the table.

“It’s fine, the eggnog mix is in the fridge.” Anna says as she crushes a bag of oreos on the counter.

“Feels tense in here. And why is Tyler-“ Julia gets cut off by Anna shooting her a glare and Skye was quick to talk over.

“What time is everyone else getting here?”

“What time is it now?” Anna asks.

“Six-fifteen” Julia says as she starts preparing the eggnog with willow.

“I told everyone seven. So we need to hurry the hell up.”

“Wait, Julia-“ You looked up at her. “Why is Tyler what?”

She glanced at Anna and Skye both. She got the memo but she definitely let it slip her mind.

“He’s on the phone with Jack, I was just wondering why he isn’t here with you.”

“He couldn’t make it. His flights not until tomorrow morning.” You shrugged.

“Oh, damn that sucks.” She says as she and Willow place some glasses of eggnog on a tray.

“Yeah, but it’s okay.” Skye nudges your arm with her shoulder. “She has her girls here.”

You smiled at that, but the smile fell when you finished the toppings on the oreo pie.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. If Jack tries to steal anything one of you slap him.” Anna directs before she rushes out the kitchen.

You placed the pie in the fridge and grabbed a sponge to scrub the melted chocolate off the stove. It wasn’t long after, Anna came back to the kitchen and announced that people were starting to show up.

———

Two hours had gone by and you found yourself back in the kitchen where the food and Jack of course was.

“Don’t tell Anna I dropped those.” He points to the trash and you glance over to see a whole sheet of her sugar cookies laying at the bottom of it.

“Dropped what?” Anna asks as she comes into the kitchen. Jack throws his head back and you raise your hands up and step away.

“You wasted all my sugar cookies?!”

“It was an accident! They were so good I just got too excited and they fell out my hand, I don’t know.” He shrugs as he stuffs his mouth with the chocolate chip ones.

“You know what, c’mon-“ she grabs his arm and pulls him away from the food once again. “It’s time for secret santa, everyone! Let’s go to the living room! Secret santa time!”

You followed them and everyone started filing towards the living room. Skye caught up to you with two glasses in hand.

“Here, you’ve been so sad all night. You need this.” She says, and you take the glass even though you questioned what was even in it.

“Why is it green?” You asked.

“Christmas colors.” She cheersed her glass with yours. “It’s just dyed eggnog.”

You shrugged and sipped it. It wasn’t bad.

“Who did you get for secret santa?” She asks as she sits down on the couch next to Kyle, and you sit down on the armrest next to her.

“Jack. Thankfully Anna helped me with it cause I had no idea what to get him.”

“Leopard print socks would’ve been what I got him.” She chuckles. “I got Orange. I didn’t know what the hell to get him so I went with a jean jacket like all his other ones.”

“Safe choice” You nodded as you sipped your glass.

“Okay everyone!” Anna clapped her hands together. “I know this is secret Santa and we should play by the rules but I have to go first cause my gift is the best. Sorry but it’s true.” She grins at everyone in the room.

She taps Jacks shoulder and he gets up from the chair he was sitting at next to the christmas tree. You watched him disappear down the hall but turned back around when Skye caught your attention again.

“Do you think this eggnog is a little strong?” She asks.

You looked down at your glass and shook your head. “If anything I think it could be stronger.” You shrugged before you sipped.

“Try mine. I can mix yours like this if you like it.” She says as she hands over her glass. You take it out of her hand, and then it’s taken out of your hand from someone behind you.

You looked back and saw Tyler standing there trying to hold back his smile.

“Happy to see me?” He asks as he steps around and stands in front of you. He handed Skye her glass back and cupped your cheeks, placing three soft kisses to your lips.

You looked up at him with eyes wide and a silly grin spreading across your face.

“Told you.” Anna pats herself on the back with a satisfied smile.

“I knew there was a reason why you guys were being so weird.” You shook your head.

“Shit, I almost gave it away.” Julia remarks from the other couch. “I saw him sitting in the back of jacks car like a weirdo and forgot he was supposed to be your surprise.”

“We had to hide him.” Anna defends. It was clear that she came up with the whole plan. “And it wasn’t easy since he kept trying to ruin it.”

“I was in that backseat for three hours” Tyler says as he slings his arm around your shoulders. “I just wanted to see my girl.”

“You were outside the whole time?” You asked.

“No, Jack had to stick him in the hall closet thirty minutes ago cause he said it was getting too cold in the car.” Anna tells you.

“It was getting cold in there.” He looks down at you.

“Wait, how did you even fit in the hall closet?” Willow chuckles.

“He had to sit criss cross applesauce. I was just gonna send yn back there and find him like that but Anna said no.” Jack adds.

“Not criss cross applesauce!” Kyle bursts out laughing. “This man is six foot tall. Why didn’t you just send him to one of the bedrooms?”

“Shut up, we had to think fast.” Anna snaps back.

“You’ll never catch me sitting criss cross applesauce in a closet.” Julia chuckles.

“I feel like that’s something you would do.” Jack chimes in.

“Who says criss cross applesauce? Are we in kindergarten?” Tyler looks around at everyone before he looks down at you with a smirk.

“Who sits criss cross applesauce in a closet?” Orange teases.

“Jack said if I ruined the surprise he was gonna be dealing with a pissed off girlfriend.” Tyler shrugs. “I didn’t have much choice.”

“Sounds like she didn’t buy you anything, Y/N.” Orange commented from the corner he sat in. Anna shot him a glare but everyone else in the room laughed.

You looked over at her and smiled when the laughter died down. “She couldn’t have gotten me anything better than this. Thank you Anna, you’re seriously the best.”

“I know.” She bashfully smiles before she sits down on Jack’s lap.

You feel Tyler’s arms sneak around your waist as he sways you side to side. He leans down and places a kiss to your cheek before he whispers, “I got you an even better gift, but I can’t give it to you here.”

A blush crept up to your cheeks as you leaned your head back against his chest, about to whisper something back before you were interrupted by Jack saying,

“I just heard all that. Please work on your whispering skills.”

“Yeah, I heard that too.” Skye chuckles as she shakes her head.

“Unfortunately so did I.” Orange mutters as he drops his head.

The room erupted in laughter and Tyler dropped his head to your shoulder to muffle a laugh of his own.

“Anyway, time for everyone else’s gifts. Good luck topping mine.” Anna pridefully announces.

As soon as everyone started passing around gifts Tyler determined that they were distracted enough. He turned you around and you recognized the mischievous look in his eye immediately.

“Sneak out?”

“The closets roomier than you think.” He shrugged, making you roll your eyes.

“Seriously Tyler, what the fuck” Jack called him out again. “My jackets are in that closet!”

You had to bury your face in his hoodie to hide the way your face blushed and when you pulled back he was doing all he could to hold back the widest grin.

“So sneak out?” You whispered.

“Sneak out.” He nodded.

———

taglist: @madhatterbri @730hook @multi-fandom-things730 @willowgreens @shawtys-things @justdamnpeachy @wickedval @730bliss @theworldofotps @madds-97 @gethooked @benjaminka @5secondsofmoxley @cypherpart15 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @littlemissbliss06

still getting used to adding the taglist and i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone. lmk if you wanna be added/removed!

#hook aew #aew hook fluff #hook aew x reader

[lovebugism]

watchching scary movies with steve with "I don't like scary movies" "ill keep you safe" dialogue?

ty for requesting!! this can be read as a part of the punchy x steve universe — steve attends punchy and eddie's horror movie night and tries very hard to be metal about it (established relationship, fluff, 1.3k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You and Eddie were a package deal. Steve knew this before he started dating you. Hell, before he even knew he liked you. As far as he’s concerned, it’s been Punchy and Eddie since the beginning of time. 

So it isn’t all that surprising when he started going out with you that he was essentially going out with Eddie as well. And strictly by association, he was basically Eddie’s best friend just the same. It was like having shared custody — which you’ve always joked that the two of them seemed to have of Dustin.

Except shared custody with you looks more like toned-down PDA and crashed movie nights. Sorta like this one.

Steve enters Eddie’s trailer like it’s his own and doesn’t bother to knock.

“You’re late, Harrington,” the wild-haired boy monotones from the couch, arms crossed and pouting. He’s not even mad that the douchebag barged in, but that he barged in forty minutes late. “Movie nights start at seven o’clock, alright? Sharp. You should learn that if you’re gonna keep crashing them.”

“Good to know,” Steve snorts as he kicks the door shut behind him. “I had to make a pitstop on the way over. Sorry for getting everyone beer.”

The brunette holds up a six-pack, and Eddie lights up like a Christmas tree in the middle of October. He rises from the cushions with a beaming grin. “And just like that, you are forgiven, Stevie,” he singsongs with a whimsical sort of accent.

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t scold him for the nickname. He complained about it once, and Eddie called him that and nothing else for days. He figures it’s just better to count his losses.

His face loses every hint of annoyance when his eyes find you — standing in the kitchen wearing one of his sweatshirts, Eddie’s baggy pajama pants, and yesterday’s makeup. You shake a pan of jiffy pop over the stove and beam at the sight of your boy.

“Hi, babe!” you greet, a little louder than you mean to. It’s hard to gauge how quiet you should be over the sounds of popping popcorn, bickering boys, and a television slowly losing signal.

“Hey,” Steve grins in response. His voice and his smile are much quieter than yours had been. It’s lopsided and rosy and totally unkissed. You figure you’ll have to steal a peck or two when Eddie's not looking.

“You’re late,” you tell him — not scolding, just observant and worried with it. “You had me nervous for a minute there… Forty of ‘em, actually.”

“Sorry. Work got busy outta nowhere, and I didn’t wanna leave Rob by herself.”

You flash a smile at the boy leaning against the counter beside you. “You’re so sweet, Stevie. Did you know that?”

The nickname sounds much sweeter spilling from your mouth than from Eddie’s. It has him smiling all shy at his sneakers while his stomach flutters like a kid with a crush. He busies his fidgeting fingers with the glass bowl of chocolate-covered pretzels you and Eddie have already made a sizeable dent in.

“Thanks, but she probably would’ve killed me if I tried to leave, so… I think I might’ve just been sweet by force.”

He bites into the snack between his fingers with an audible crunch. 

You’re grinning at him just the same, even after his confession — so full of love your cheeks threaten to burst with it. “That’s fair, I guess,” you concede with a small shrug and a crooked smile.

“What movies do you nerds have me watching tonight, then, huh?” he asks with his mouth full.

“Eds! What movies are we watching tonight?” you shout into the living room.

Steve plugs his ringing ears with his pointer finger in time for Eddie to yell back, “The Shining for the appetizer and The Exorcist for the main course!”

Steve’s brows pinch as his chiseled features twist in confusion. His honey eyes dance between you and where Eddie bangs on the side of the staticky television in the living room. “Wait— Aren’t those, like, crazy terrifying?”

“Yep,” you answer with an enthusiastic nod and a sparkling gaze. Your grin somehow widens at the promise of something menacing. “It’s gonna be metal— can you hand me a bowl?”

Steve huffs with a pouted face but complies anyway. He grabs a plastic container from the drying rack beside the sink and hands it to you. You pour the freshly popped popcorn into it, and he whines like a child.

“We’re watching scary movies?” 

“Well, yeah, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs over the sound of an old black-and-white show when he finally gets the TV to work again. He walks to the kitchen with an amused gaze and leans his elbows over the countertop. “It’s Halloween. What’d you expect?”

“It’s the middle of October,” Steve deadpans.

“Yeah. Halloween. What’d you think we were gonna watch— Pretty in Pink?”

“I love that movie…” the brunette mumbles beneath Eddie’s cackling.

You flash him a sweet smile and wide, attentive eyes. “Do you wanna watch something else?”

Feeling like he’s been caught, Steve tries his best to play it cool. He’s past the point of feeling the need to impress you, but he still wants to enjoy all the things you do. Even if they are scary and bloody and downright horrifying at times.

“No. I mean, I don’t really care, honestly,” the boy stammers with a nonchalant shrug. “I just… I don’t know— I’ve never really been into horror movies, you know?”

Eddie chuckles knowingly. “Why? Are you scared?”

“No,” Steve scoffs with narrowed eyes, then waves his hand in a wild gesture. “They’re just gory… And gross.”

“Yeah. That’s the fun part.”

Steve’s face screws up at the boy’s sadistic grin. 

The wild-haired boy giggles quietly to himself and turns on his heel to head back into the living room. The old couch squeaks under his weight when he plops down onto it.

“Do you really not wanna watch them?” you wonder, more quietly now that your best friend is gone. Your gaze is glittering, stern in its softness. Your chin tilts to your chest as you look at the boy from beneath your lashes. “‘Cause I get it if they’re too graphic, you know? We can always watch something else—”

“No. I lied. I am scared.” Steve blurts in one breath.

A laugh sputters from your mouth before you can stop it.

Steve gapes, feigning offense, though his own rosy smirk begins to tug at his mouth. 

“Don’t laugh! You’re supposed to be comforting me!”

“I know,” you hum sweetly, tilting your head to the side and shaking your head. “You’re just cute.”

“Yeah. I’m adorable,” he monotones with a flat, unamused face.

Your hand rises to his chin, ringed fingers cupping his stubbly jaw. His cheeks squish together, and his lips jut softly out — adorable, indeed.

“I’ll keep you safe, ‘kay?” you promise quietly.

Steve nods, all but melting into your touch.

You smile at him for a fleeting moment, then press a kiss to his gently pouted mouth a second later. The quiet smacking sound fills the small kitchen. You part from him too quickly for his liking, gathering bowls of popcorn and miscellaneous snacks and trying to balance them in your arms on your way to the living room.

Steve tries to ignore the butterflies fluttering against his ribcage when you part from him. He couldn’t love you more if he tried.

“Well, what about Eddie?” he calls to you and, very pointedly, to the Munson boy. “I don’t trust him not to do some freaky shit to try and scare the piss out of me.”

You turn back around with wide eyes, attempting to be mindful of everything you hold in your hands. Picking popcorn kernels out of the carpet would be a total bitch.

“Well— I mean— that’s basically his love language, so…” 

So at least that would mean he sort of likes you, you want to say

Eddie beats you to the punch. He finishes your sentence for you, as he so often does, with a cynical shout from the living room. “—So you have exactly nothing to worry about, Harrington!”

Steve isn’t so sure.

He’s growing on Munson. Even if neither of them want to admit it.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #punchy x steve #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

[signed-sapphire]

Okayyyy rewatched Wish

Here are my notes

Valentino wasn’t as annoying as people say. Sure, he did nothing for the plot and could’ve been removed entirely, but he didn’t make near as many butt jokes as people say he did

The lead-ins for all the songs were great. Certain media (Hazbin, for example) just jump into the songs

Magnifico??? Didn’t touch the pages??? So why would he be corrupted? Why does Amaya know of obsidian oil? Don’t you just skim the pages to release the evil?

Dahlia was amazing

“At the very least break the hold it has on him” Amaya? Didn’t you found this kingdom with thin? Wouldn’t you know?

Also Amaya was very sidelined. Where’s her backstory?

Asha’s magic wand mishaps were… corny at best

Why did they make Dario high all the time? He’s not stupid. I feel like they made him try to be like Fred from Big Hero 6 but failed

“Nine zillyboo, twenty alphabet!” Val, buddy. No.

DAHLIA. MATE. TRUE LOVE’S KISS CAN BRUNG HIM BACK I swear, it feels like the directors were switched

The spider-carriage thing. I feel like that could’ve been a Disney reference instead

Gabo was still my favorite out of the teens. Bazeema was sweet too

Also. Halzeema moments were actually in canon.

Sabino did not act 100 at all.

Crushing wishes did nothing to people except make them sad for .2 seconds

Asha’s drawing, her magic wand, none of that was important to the actual plot

I feel like the horses could’ve been Disney references too

Why did the roof open? That was never explained

Mag’s hair needed to be messier. Evil Magnifico? Crazy hair

How did he hear them from all the way down there

Mag’s really out there beating up a minor

The curse rope green things were not scary at all

Was Simon just in the forest the entire time?

The Magnifico getting sucked inside his staff… I feel that could’ve been a play to Dr. Facilier somehow

The stars raining down were beautiful

Was Star’s nose tap a reference to something?

The people’s talking… idk how I felt about that

WE 👏 SHOULD’VE 👏 SEEN 👏 SAKINA’S 👏 WISH

Another half-assed apology. First Namaari, now you. At least Simon’s was an actual apology. Wait. More of it goes on.

Ok his apology isn’t too bad

How did the staff get all the way down there?

Changed my opinion, Amaya deserved to tell Mag off

Did Mag’s curse break once he was in the mirror? Why did he act sad all of a sudden?

I’ve heard Asha’s movements weren’t finalized until later, but her movements seem pretty fluent

Clumsy and energetic, sure, but besides from the mouth drooping part, she wasn’t that quirky

Which. Could be a bad thing. She didn’t really have much of a personality

I like the Peter Pan building a flying machine idea

Zootopia ref

DARIO. SHUT UP

Why does everyone suddenly understand Star

But off-topic they were so cute

“It” I guess

Why refer to Star as an it

“They” was too woke for the Disney execs? Why, you had a one-second offhand comment about a water cousin who’s nonbinary!

That Cinderella-reference thing… wasn’t slow enough to be a dress transformation. So I’m fine with her not having a different dress. I mean obviously I would’ve loved it but idk

SHOW DON’T TELL, DISNEY

STOP TELLING

“I understand you well enough” I DON’T! HOW ARE THEY TELLING YOU

Some of Valentino’s jokes were funny. Sue me

I liked the Tinkerbell and Mikey Mouse reference at the end

The storybook was a nice callback

The credits should’ve been moving. Also CHOOSE BAYMAX TO REPRESENT BIG HERO 6. WHY HAVE VILLAINS LIKE MALEFICENT THERE

Overall. Not as bad as people are making it out to be. But definitely not worthy to be Disney’s 100

I’d say… 7/10. The backgrounds did look watercolor, but the shading seemed off in places. Especially Sakina. There was major improvement to be done, but with the hell the execs were giving (and the proven creativity of the concept art) I feel this movie is getting too much hate. Critiques and criticism are fine. But don’t blame the writers for getting rid of Starboy. Yes, it could’ve been better. But it’s Disney. And the creators tried their best to pour their love into a movie that they didn’t have a full say in.

#disney wish #wish 2023 #asha #star wish #wish movie #wish disney #wish review

[steleir]

𝜗𝜚 event ‧₊˚ ⊹ : @satorisoup x kunigami rensuke!

it was only a week ago that he proposed, and you were already jumping to wedding planning. all excited to be a wife, thinking about the future you could have with this boy.

to think that it was only a few years ago that you two were simply classmates.

you never thought you had a chance with him, but you did have a huge crush on the boy. all your friends knew it; he was basically all you talked about most of the time.

but you so badly wanted to get to know him, so you gathered the courage to co graduate him on a win, one that would take them to the finals, and kunigami was the reason behind it.

it shocked you when he was the one who became flustered. his face going red. “thanks girls, don’t compliment me often,” he mumbled, his voice barley above a whisper. you giggled; he was cute. you thought.

it came to a shock to you when he invited you to the game. “you did amazing!” you said excitedly, a beaming smile on your face, one that he’d argue was so bright and beautiful it could battle the sun and moon.

the tips of his ears were red, and he held a large bouquet of pink tulips and baby breath. “who are those for?” you said nervously, wondering if there was some girl he panned to ask out.

the poor boy was shaking from nervousness, “will you go out with me?” he confessed as he  handed you the big pretty bouquet.

honestly, for someone as buff and intimidating as him, he was quite the softie sometimes.

you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone, and kunigami made himself comfortable beside you.

“what’re you thinking?” he asked, his chin propped on the crook of your neck. “when should we have the wedding? where should it be? what theme?” you said it with a restless tone in your voice.

“babe, chill; we have time.” he laughed, staring at your phone, which displayed a beautiful mid evil themed venue. “definitely not that.”

you giggled as you continued to scroll through the photos. “what about something beach themed, like how you proposed? like in april, and there’s a lot of flowers and the sun is setting?” you suggested looking at him expecting an answer. “i’d love that,” he smiled.

i think Kunigami wouldn’t care much about the planning; he just wanted to wake you up.

though he helps with pulling strings to the venue, the inactivation card design, and the flowers, which yet again were the same ones he asked you out for the first time with and proposed to you with.

he would always try to take some of the pressure from all the wedding planning you had to do without him because he’d be overseas.

he'd always start talking about what you two would do, and one time he mentioned how you should quit your job because he could support you both financially, but you told him to slow down a bit.

he'd talk about how many kids he wanted, too. two boys and a daughter, maybe more or less depending on how much you want too.

he's actually so excited, but he hides it because he doesn’t want you to realise just how impatient he is, but you already know.

the day of the wedding, he is a WRECK. he wasn’t to talk to you, but your nurses maids won’t let him because it’s “bad luck” to see the bride, which he thinks is stupid, but he will not do anything.

he isn’t having second thoughts, but this is his special day, and the getting ready part is done on his part; he just wants to be by your side.

so when the music starts and he sees you in your dream dress, your hair is in a perfect slick-back bun with a tiara and a veil.

you were so beautiful. he starts crying—no joke. he almost sobs, but then remembers his teammates are there, so he holds it back.

his vows are just…wow. you too end up having a hard time holding back your tears that you’d cover with small laughs.

“when i met you, i knew you were the one. i just didn’t have the courage to approach you, so when you complimented me, i was over the moon, and that night i dreamed of our wedding.”

he said, a laugh escaping his lips as he looked into your eyes. “when i first met you i thought you were pretty, but then i got to know you and realised how smart and funny you were. and im more than ready to love you forever, to raise children together, and grow old., and that even when death takes my hand, ill promise to find you in my next life, and the next one, all of them,” he vowed, wiping away his tears with his sleeve.

“your the light of my life, ren. you were always there for me, you helped me at my lowest, even when you were at your lowest too. you always surprised me with all the gifts i wanted and the best dates. i’m so lucky to have you, to get to love you forever.”

he was too impatient then, and kissed you before the officiant even got to say, “you may kiss the bride.”

i think you two would have two kids, like twins. probably a girl and a boy. (you decide names.)

he’s a PROTECTIVE dad. especially for his daughter; it started some fights, but eventually he loosens up with her.

he loves cooking dinner for you both, any dish you wanted.

i think a lot of the time he isn’t home because of football, but he always makes up for that lost time with his children with some gifts and an entire week of them spending time together.

always calling you because he misses you.

always goes all out on anniversaries; i’m not joking. always the same bouquet, and though sometimes you wish he’d get roses or something, you knew it was something special to him, so you never mention it.

serious about family nights, forces his children to sit down and spend time with him and you. says they’ll “thank him” when they're older.

supports you in any dream you want to peruse. he’s rich enough to help you with it.

tried to grow a beard and a moustache when he’s older, but it’s just NOT for him sorry not sorry.

takes a lot of begging and convincing from you and your children for him to shave it.

#𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ : husband catalogue event. #࿓ : file. (bllk) #bllk fluff #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock x you #blue lock #blue lock x reader #kunigami rensuke x you #kunigami rensuke x reader #kunigami rensuke

[shdo-xplosion]

Bedroom Add-Ons •°. *࿐

d. kaminari x k. bakugou x h. shinsou x reader

warnings: foursome, m/f, m/m, oral (both male and female receiving), fingering, rimming, vagina sex, anal sex, dirty talk, shinsou degrades denki once. 1.7k

notes: just a little something that was stuck in my head. enjoy the madness >:3

You’re dating Denki who used to hook up with Shinsou who’s now dating Bakugou but used to date you.

So, why haven’t all of you fucked at the same time?

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

It’s Shinsou who asks rather than your boyfriend, not that it’s surprising. Your boyfriend already knows that you are more than okay with this. Your ex on the other hand… well, the 2 of you never did anything like this when you were dating.

“Yes, Shin, I’m fine,” you smile. Still thoughtful even now.

Of course, it’s a little late to be asking. You’ve been naked on the bed for a while now, on display for all 3 men. Denki has been beaming since the others got to the apartment, Shinsou has been quietly skeptical, and Bakugou, staying a respectful distance away, has just been silent. He isn’t giving off any negative energy; he’s just… observing, taking everything in, maybe mentally preparing himself.

“Are you guys okay?” you ask with a little laugh. “Shinsou? Will this be weird for you?”

He shrugs his shoulders and offers a soft smile, “probably, but in a nostalgic kind of way.”

“And Bakugou? Are you okay with your boyfriend… ya know?”

It takes a moment, but the blond nods. “Be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t curious.” Then he smirks, a much more familiar expression. “Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten pussy.”

Excitement bubbles in your tummy. He’s the add-on here. You’re with Denki now, dated Shinsou years ago who used to hook up with Denki but is now with Bakugou, and it’s all just convoluted. You suppose that’s what happens when you date within friends groups. There’s no bitterness, only minor insecurities. Sometimes you wonder if you satisfy Denki the way Shinsou did, and he has the same worry, but other than that there haven’t been any problems.

You’ve also had a couple opportunities for you and Bakugou to hook up. It’s just never panned out for one reason or another. You think you’ve both been mildly interested since high school, but it’s never been a nagging crush or that heady kind of lust you’ve experienced with others.

Tonight, though… tonight everyone is coming together (hopefully in more ways than one).

Naturally, Denki moves first, eager to kiss you and taste your tongue. You smile into each other, giggling like you always do during intimate moments. He glides his hand down your ribs, making you wiggle and laugh harder.

Shinsou exhales a chuckle—you’d recognize the sound anywhere— “damn, I forgot how cute you are.”

He strips off his shirt as he makes his way to the bed, not even a little embarrassed when he slaps Denki’s ass. The crack of his hand is loud, and Denki yelps in surprise though he doesn’t look offended.

“Damn, babe. Gonna wear his ass out before anyone else can get a piece,” Bakugou scoffs.

The guys shed the remainder of their clothes then find comfortable places on your king-sized bed. The amount of times you and your boyfriend have rolled around in the sheets is truly unfathomable, but this is a first.

Surprisingly, Denki is quick to guide Bakugou between your legs, grinning at him. “If you miss pussy, you won’t have a problem eating hers. Believe me, you won’t regret it.”

The other blond has no complaints, lifting both of your legs to rest over his shoulders then lowering his face to your cunt. Denki positions himself behind Bakugou, hunger shining in his eyes when he admires the curve of his friend’s ass, spreading his cheeks to spit on his hole. Bakugou grunts, pausing in licking your pussy, though not for long as you fist a hand in his spiky hair and gently shove his face back down. He chuckles, tongue delving between your folds and making you moan.

Shinsou moves close to you at his usual slow pace, laying beside you and cupping your jaw to turn your face. His lips are familiar, easy to get lost in like you used to so often. It takes no time to fall into your old rhythm, though you’re both a little more insistent than before.

Your hand trails down his chest until you can wrap your fingers around his cock. He’s a little bigger than Denki, thicker but only slightly longer. Uncut, you pump him with ease, stomach fluttering at the groan it pulls from him.

Further down your body, Bakugou lets out a long, deep sound, and you glance up to the sight of your boyfriend slowly sliding a finger into Bakugou’s hole.

“Fuuuuck,” he breathes, eyes rolling. The way he laps at you becomes sloppy, distracted by his own pleasure but still determined to give you yours. He’s all spit and slow licks, drenching you in drool and your own slick. It’s unbelievably hot, not just seeing but feeling the way Denki has him buckling.

Shinsou guides your lips back to his. His kiss grows harsher as he gropes your tits, tweaking one of your nipples so that you buck against Bakugou. He’s hot in your palm, precum dripping from his tip and onto your hand.

There’s so much movement, so many limbs. Denki must be excited to move along as he prompts, “Bakugou, you ready to fuck her?”

Bakugou nods, rubbing his face against you and bumping your clit with his nose.

The other men take a short break so that Bakugou can push into you, allowing you to get used to his fat cock. He feels so good, stretching you out and mumbling under his breath. Denki resumes fingering him, and you return to jacking Shinsou off until Bakugou speaks up and growls, “want you to ride me.”

Denki pulls away, then Bakugou, everyone resituating. He pulls you down onto his cock, and you feel your eyes roll aimlessly. Your boyfriend gets on his knees beside you, angling his hips so that you can bend and suckle at his glistening head, but not before Shinsou slips under him, pulling Denki’s hips down to his face.

It’s chaotic, no real rhythm. You slobber all over your boyfriend while Bakugou fucks up into you, and Denki is quick to fall apart as Shinsou eats his ass. Once he’s wet and stretched, Shinsou slowly pushes into Denki’s tight hole, breath leaving his lungs in a harsh exhale, thrusting gently a couple of times before realizing the angle simply will not work.

New position: reverse cowgirl on Bakugou’s cock, your back arched so that Denki can stuff your mouth again where he kneels between Bakugou’s legs, and Shinsou fucking him from behind.

This is how it stays, all of you finally falling into sync. Denki manages to play with your clit even through Shinsou’s deep thrusts, though his fingers are twitchy, frantic swipes over your puffy bud so that you squirt and squirt and squirt, steady stream soaking Bakugou’s thighs and the blankets between.

You gag on Denki, slurping up his pre and your slippery spit. The wet noise slapping with every push and pull of Bakugou is a tell-tale sign of your pussy creaming around him, and even if you weren’t aware, Bakugou growls about how much he loves it, “messy fuckin’ girl—look at all this—” You feel his touch at the base of his cock, close to your asshole, and suddenly Denki pulls out of your mouth so that Bakugou can replace him with his calloused fingers.

You cough and gag but still clean him, and the sight must be too much for Denki because he starts whining, “gonna cum, m’gonna cum,” and Bakugou presses his fingers into your cheeks right between your teeth so that your mouth is forced open.

The first line of cum makes you jump and tense around Bakugou, but you’re prepared for the rest, some of it landing on your tongue but most of it just painting your face.

“Baby, you’re so pretty like this,” Denki croons dreamily, planting a sloppy kiss on your mouth so that his cum coats both of your tongues. Shinsou keeps fucking him just like Bakugou keeps fucking you. Slightly less distracted now, Denki is able to pay better attention to your neglected clit, flicking over it, lightly pinching, rubbing circles until you start to tense up.

“Oh, god… oh, please, keep…”

“Come on, sweet girl, cum for all of us. We wanna see you cum so bad,” Denki breathes into your ear hotly. You can hear the smile in his voice when you begin to unravel. “That’s my girl, cum so pretty for me.”

Your spasming muscles pull Bakugou over the edge next, hips stuttering as his orgasm hits him and he begins to shoot his load into you—hot and thick, filling you until it starts to drip back down his shaft.

“Fuck, you’re all so…” Shinsou growls animalistically, plunging into Denki with a new desperation, his fingernails digging into his hips so that the skin around them reddens. “So close, I’m so…”

As soon as Denki starts rocking his hips back to meet his thrusts, Shinsou stills, head falling back, jaw dropping open. He uses the blond to stroke himself to completion, and when he cums inside of Denki, they both moan like whores.

“Fuck yes, fill my ass, Toshi, feels good.”

“Yeah? You like it? Miss being my cumslut?”

The vulgarity doesn’t surprise you coming from Denki, but hearing Shinsou talk like that shocks you. He never used to talk that dirty to you, but you kind of wish he had because it is extremely sexy.

You collapse backward onto Bakugou’s chest, his softening dick sliding from your ruined pussy. Denki follows suit and falls on top of you, resting his face on the lower part of your tummy, and a heavy grunt is pushed out of you when Shinsou lays on top of Denki.

It probably looks ridiculous. You know it feels ridiculous. But you don’t think any of you can even move at this point, so thoroughly fucked out all you can really do is breathe and bask in the humidity of post sex bliss.

“Well, shit,” Bakugou huffs. “Might have to make that a regular part of my schedule.”

Shinsou agrees with an amused, “Seconded.”

Denki shifts, mumbles, “phone, phone,” almost incoherently until Bakugou grabs it off the nightstand and hands it to him.

He unlocks it, clicks a few things while his face is still smushed against you, then prompts, “we’re both free Wednesdays and Saturdays after six.”

2023 ©️shidou-x. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

#bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #kaminari x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bnha x you