#idk i very well might be just looking the wrong place

[homophyte]

okay im going to be vulnerable and admit though ive owned house of leaves for a few months i was spurred to start reading it the other day after watching that video on myhouse.wad . no one make fun of me. that being said.

im not necessarily going though it super in depth and more just trying to unravel some stuff for funsies with some various help from old forums and what strikes me as sometimes glaringly missing from discussions on the book is the way it relates to women. like the fact that the house itself is treated as though it has a female identity will get talked about but theres not rlly discussions about the ramifications of that--how will and holloways posturing--named as explicitly about 'male dominance'--is essentially a fight over who gets to get the girl. wills early venture into the house is literally likened to karen kissing wax, like theyre BOTH infidelities, and thats not nearly the first time karen herself treats the situation like the house is her romantic rival or at least rival for wills attention (im not far enough in to have too solid a grasp on the implications of the name delial--but lets just say i have a suspicion?).

anyway whats maybe even more interesting than that is the way its kinda ALL about gender--its men who keep entering the house desperate to know what its about, its men driven to write about it and uncover its secret knowledge, and it drives them fucking crazy. like...you can read that--VERY EASILY--as men 'discovering' the ""hidden"" interiority of women, like, the very idea that women are complex people with their own ideas and emotions and inner worlds. the fact that the house has a secret inside is huge fucking news and just about every man in the novel reacts to it as such, but the reactions from women are like...not that. idk im not done with it by any means but the similarity between the conversations between karen & wax at the end ch VII and johnny & thumper at the end of VIII really apparent. when thumper is listening to johnny, seeking to understand him, being really invested and interested and not reacting with annoyance or disdain or boredom like he expects, it genuinely really knocks him out to the point he nearly cries--and then he bottles it up, writes it off, even when she echoes karens exact words flirting with wax he doesnt register it.

the text displays a consciousness around gendered expectations here, particularly bc thumper is a sex worker, that she cant be expected to intellectually engage w it, but she can and does...and then johnny doenst know what to DO about it, how to engage w a real moment of understanding between the sexes or whatever so he very consciously falls back on gender expectations for men and refuses to feel that connection, severing the tie he inadvertently built w her and consigning the moment to unknowable blackness. the void is invented by people determined to treat it as foreign--which often means treating it as hostile (holloways gun, johnnys suspicions when thumper didnt call him back).

that she ends with the comment 'you just need to get out of the house' is like...almost laughably on the nose especially w the way chauvanist culture has proliferated on the internet. like in the book too, dont get me wrong, its just so startlingly accurate to whats going on it seems like she really must UNDERSTAND in a way johnny fails to capture in his narration but still comes through due to her being kinda fucking great--sorry i REALLY like thumper in this actually she may be my favorite. its sort of difficult for me to look at the line and divorce it in my head from the phenomenon of the incel--read a certain way, you have johnny ranting and raving about how he just cant ever figure out what the collective 'woman' is thinking and all this time hes spent driving himself crazy about it, and thumper listening and understanding and very sympathetically and honestly saying 'that wouldnt be a big deal if you interacted w women instead of holing up inside trying to theorize about it.'

i dont necessarily think its a mistake that johnny is the kind of person he is, a partying womanizer or whatever, bc sex becomes his only interaction w women (his failure to talk abt the book w kyrie in favor or fucking her) just as entering the house becomes wills only interaction w it (or at least he rages when he cant have that interaction, he values it above others). the book is pretty clear about both of these acting as forms of penetration. as johnny gets more invested in the text he interacts more and more w the women zampano used as interpreters and comes more and more into contact w women and less and less able to deny their interiority.

the reaction from men that women are people is simple and plain disbelief, followed by disconnected, invasive, rigorous study, study that is likened to war, to surgery, to expedition--anything but understanding. its kind of baffling idk maybe im just not looking in the right place to see people talking about it but this sorta feels like...the point. hell even earlier in ch VII on page 91 you get will and holloway excitedly talking about calling the press about their huge discovery that no one will believe...and then just, karen, living her life, treated like an enigma. i literally have this written in my notes as "men discover women have internality; their wives decline to comment"

#myposts #thats not even to mention the uncanny similarities of the whalestoe letters to some stuff in the rest of the book #the intrusion of men the inability of men to understand women as a form of violence. etc #thats not to say i find it particularly groundbreaking a feminist analysis of gender relations or anything? #its more just like...hey where are the mediocre liberal feminists in talking about this this would totally be their thing #idk i very well might be just looking the wrong place #and again im not finished with it. so i could be dead fucking wrong #but at least rn its the main thing i keep seeing pop up over n over

[timeisacephalopod]

I've kinda seen some pushback to the idea of representation in media and I don't necessarily think it's bad to point out actual rights are more important than Disney's thousandth first gay character that's fine, but I've had a LOT of people comment on my works about asexual characters and tell me what I wrote changed their life-and it's always that phrase- because they now have the language to describe what they feel. I've had people who ARENT ace or aro comment that what I wrote finally made a concept they didn't understand make sense, or that the way I explained things was interesting and enlightening and I'm kind of a mediocre writer who hasn't written anything in ages.

Like idk, if reading something from a writer who is fucking around and only somewhat talented can genuinely impact someone because they've not seen anything like them reflected back at them in life or media I don't think pushing for representation in media is as "needless" as some people seem to think and caring about that doesn't mean you don't care about more "important" (although if you think seeing people like you in media ISNT important it's because you already have that representation or are privileged enough to not care if you do, in which case maybe pipe down) stuff. Hell, I even got a Facebook message ages ago from someone who found a comment I left in an ace group about QPR's and what they meant to me and how I perceived them and the person no joke said what I wrote two years before they even found it changed their life forever because they finally knew what kind of relationship they actually wanted.

So like sure, of course there's always bigger fish to fry them diversity in media (you know, like diversity in real life lol) but I don't think it's as frivolous as some people are beginning to act like it is. At least not if you're an aspec person it's not, I STILL don't see ace characters almost ever and I'll bet my whole everything if I asked a writer of a show why they'd tell me that EVERYONE has to be in a sexual relationship and characters that aren't won't sell and are boring- I say this because in film school I had a teacher TELL ME every character needed to basically be sex obsessed and when I pointed out a GREAT MANY CHARACTERS are not revolved around sex (Supernatural stars two brothers, I pointed out) and when she asked if I had love interests I was like ??? That doesn't matter- using my aforementioned supernatural example almost all their love interests die or get mind wiped because at the end of the day that's not what the story was about. So actually I think writers who act like that teacher need like 50 reality checks, and representation in stories isn't unimportant and also support indie writers you'll probably find more funky shit there then Disney anyway lmao.

And also even the asexual characters I DO see in media don't remind me at all of myself even if I appreciate the effort, but they never feel real or genuine and their sexuality doesn't get a lot of exploration so 🤷🏻‍♀️ I actually could use more media focused on characters that I can genuinely see my sexuality reflected in in a meaningful and narratively impactful way because I've got nothing.

#winters ramblings #todd from bojack horseman im sure is SOMEONES version of asexuality but i dont see ANYTHING of myself in him #great character dont get me wrong but not relatable to me on any level including our shared sexuality #sex ed got a bit closer with their brief ace character although maybe she got more exploration in season three or four?? #the latest one i havent watched lmao. but being closer and having a moment wjere shes told shes not broken #while DEEPLY vindicating isnt necessarily all im looking for either #like i wamt a REAL character thats ace or aro or both thats written by people who UNDERSTAND what theyre writting #not just well meaning people who dont know what theyre doing its kind of tiring #also idk why theres no dating shows with gay men because reality dating shows are ALL ABOUT who fucks who and who gets together #gay men would be hooking up ALL OVER THE PLACE and the DRAMA youd think reality tv freaks would be SALIVATING #but no none of that lmao. just ru pauls drag race and thats great it is like its not my bag but people love it #back on yrack though the weord blowback representation is getting is strange and its VERY clear to me #the people writing those posts havent gotten dozens on dozens of messages from people like them who found their writing #and haf their life altered forever for the better because someone who KNOWS what theyre talking about wrote a character like them #and it opened doors they never knew existed. doesnt even need to happen with fiction either i had a friend i had in toronto #tell me the info i sent to her on being aromantic changed her life- THAT'S the phrase i keep getting thats TELLING- because it describefld #described** how shes felt her whole life but didnt have words for. how frivolous IS representation if im getting these messages? #not very i dont think if some rsndom indie fic writer who hadnt written anything substantial in years can change someones life #REPEATEDLY might i add. ive been getting a LOT of messages like this lately and seeing this new bramd of discourse latetly too #like maybe YALL have enough that you dont care anymore but speak for your fucking selves

[kiirschtein-archive]

⋆ 「 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 (𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞) 𝐦𝐨𝐦. 」 ⋆

feat. — toji fushiguro x f!reader, kid!megumi

word count. — 1.4k

content. — sfw, non-sorcerer au, established relationship (marriage), mostly just fluffy domestic stuff, reader is addressed as ‘mom/mama/mommy,’ toji’s kind of a bad parent but he’s working on it, brief mention of toji smoking (cigarettes), overprotective!toji, very minor suggestive themes (from toji 🙄 he’s a walking cw/tw)

notes. — idk. this has been incessantly on my brain pretty much from the moment i  woke up today, even to the point where i was writing half of this at  the laundromat lmao. mother’s day yesterday had me feeling some type of way, so here have some fun headcanons from a strange eldest daughter!!!! (i might end up doing a set of these for gojo x reader too 🤔)

⋆ 「 — he’s not your biological son, but you’ve been around since you started seeing toji when megumi was still a baby. but now, a few years later, you might as well be his real mother. you certainly act like it and feel like it, so toji gladly initiates the conversation about official adoption. it just makes sense. you eventually explain the situation to megumi as best as you can simply so that he doesn't grow up thinking he was lied to or anything of the sort, but as far as he's concerned, you're his mom whether it's by blood or not.

⋆ 「 — and oh, megumi’s a mama’s boy. i imagine he’s just a little bit of a healthier kid vs. canon given the better family situation, but he’s still always a bit of a grumpy baby, appreciating his autonomy and trying to be as self-sufficient and mature as he can be. but he’ll most certainly run to you when he needs help, is truly hurt, or just needing a bit of comfort. you’ve always treated him so softly and kindly with understanding, so he honestly feels more comfortable coming to you most of the time instead of his dad.

⋆ 「 — he likes the way you organize the bookshelf in his room or fold and sort his clothes in special little ways. he gets upset any time toji tries to put a book back in the wrong place or can’t figure out where his damn socks are. gumi will scowl and say, “that’s not where it goes.” or go deadpan and be like, “mom always keeps the socks in the bottom drawer.” disappointed that his father can’t even remember. toji just grumbles and says, “your mama’s gonna ruin you.”

⋆ 「 — has called you 'mom' basically since he was old enough, but don't let him fool you. megumi will drop the big boy act and come out with 'mama' or 'mommy' when something's wrong or he's really excited. he'll come to you with quiet tears and sniffles, a little ashamed that he's crying, but present to you a scraped elbow, "mama... it hurts." you clean up the scrape and explain to him the little medical details in a somewhat understandable way to help him focus on something besides the pain, and you tell him that it'll be okay, and that it's alright to cry. or on the flip-side, you and toji take him to the zoo, little gumi on his dad's shoulders, and he gasps and points excitedly, "look, mommy! look at the big elephant!" and it feels incredible to see him be so spirited.

⋆ 「 — along the lines of the art from this post and the thought i had about it earlier, just imagine that you're at some event (maybe like a birthday party or something), and toji's been hauling megumi around. they're both so over it at this point and are like 'please get me out of this' so as soon as toji walks past the obnoxious inflatable bouncy house, he smirks and just YEETS that kid inside without a second thought. after regaining his breath, megumi just looks at his father with the most EVIL little scowl as other kids bounce around him with smiles. by the look on that child's face you could've swore that his father had just done him the ultimate betrayal.

so gumi slides out and hurriedly makes his way over to where you're sitting off to the side, quietly climbing into your lap for a little bit of solace. he wiggles in close to your chest and you tuck him under your chin with a ‘come here, sweetpea,’ rocking slowly and humming something soft because he always seems to like it when you do.

toji comes over and you look at him through narrowed eyes. "kids are supposed to like shit like that," he says.

"you know he likes when things are more quiet," you respond, and toji rolls his eyes at how you seemingly spoil your son.

"just thought it might be good for him to try and get along with the other brats." toji tries to cover up the fact that he tossed his kid for the sheer personal enjoyment of it.

you huff in disbelief. "oh, like you get along so well with everyone?"

he scoffs and moves in behind you, leaning down to place a kiss on your neck. "i get along with you," he says almost suggestively.

you just keep stroking megumi's hair and give the top of his head a gentle kiss. "yeah, well not today," you say, shooting a smug, resolute smile towards your husband, ultimately taking his son's side.

⋆ 「 — outside of his alone time, megumi would honestly much rather be with you instead of other children. toji thinks it's probably unhealthy and you're inclined to agree, but you also don't want to force megumi into situations that will just make him miserable. so, when appropriate, you don't mind at all pacing around with him in your arms or have him walk next to you (maybe holding your hand if he’s not in a ‘big boy’ mood), teaching him about the things you see in the woods, the park, or even the museum. when toji's not away working, he'll join too because it admittedly makes his heart feel soft to watch you two together. it always has, because you've been doing this with megumi since he was a baby. it never gets old. if it wasn't already so difficult trying to figure out how to do things right by his son, he'd want you to give him even more babies.

⋆ 「 — megumi likes doing things with his dad sometimes too, though. toji tries his best to do it right and watch both his mouth and his temper. you like seeing them getting along, even if it's just quietly watching tv or a movie (probably a cartoon where toji gets kind of into and will ask the occasional question like "why does that one stupid chick keep doing that?" and megumi just shrugs like, "i dunno. she is pretty dumb.") or playing ball outside because gumi's starting to show some athleticism. but you have to remind toji that he can't always be so rough or competitive with games because megumi is literally a child.

⋆ 「 — toji can also be way too overprotective of you two at times. you'll be out and about and he'll just be wearing such an intimidating expression as he walks behind you both, on the lookout for anyone who might want to cause trouble or take the wrong sort of glance at his wife. he'll even snap at people for walking too close or like cutting in line or something petty, and you have to tell him stop acting like an attack dog and looking like the grim reaper because dear god you're literally just having lunch at the park. even at his age, megumi's just eating his ice cream and looking at his dad with his little baby deadpan expression and thinking "this man really needs to take a chill pill." other times he can be more relaxed, however, obviously confident in his ability to protect you. it depends on his mood. but that still doesn’t stop him from being embarrassing and going off on people in public if something happens.

⋆ 「 — you also know all of gumi’s favorite meals and snacks. it’s yet another one of those things where, if his dad does it wrong, megumi expresses a disappointment beyond his years. toji will be making and packing his son’s school lunch just as instructed by the notes you gave him, but it’s by no means as neat and meticulous as when you do it. toji’s got a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with furrowed, concentrating brows, his free hand shakily reaching for a cup of fresh coffee, and megumi’s standing there with his little backpack, criticizing his father the entire time. “mom doesn’t do it like that,” he says.

“well mom ain’t here right now. and it doesn’t matter how the sandwich is cut, is still tastes the damn same.”

gumi doesn’t even physically react, still wearing the same neutral expression, just waiting for his dad to hurry up. “mom says you shouldn’t smoke. and she also says not to use bad words.”

toji scoffs and then smirks. “well mommy uses all sorts of bad words you don’t even know about when her and daddy have play time.”

megumi’s already almost late for school and can barely feel his feet from how tight his dad tied his shoelaces. he also asks you later about “play time,” and you want to absolutely murder your husband over it.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #c. — toji fushiguro #hc. — toji fushiguro #fluff. — toji fushiguro #c. — megumi fushiguro #hc. — megumi fushiguro #fluff. — megumi fushiguro #my writing.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: YOU'RE THE CUTEST BIMBO HE'S EVER SEEN (18+) (MHA) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: Idk...I like the bimbo shit. I might make a fic with a bimbo!reader one of these days. Btw, some of these drabbles are meant for chubby/plus-sized readers, but I'll just put that as a note. Enjoy! -Jazz

*********

PRO!HITOSHI - Note: Reader is Chubby 

When he sees you for the first time, he is as intrigued as he is rock-hard the very moment he sees you in your little pink thong bikini. 

He is down the shore with Denki after being forced to take a trip to get out of the sweltering, congested Tokyo heat for a while. Don’t get him wrong; a nice trip down the shore to get away from the villain activity and constant rush of the city is definitely a nice change of pace. But to walk around semi-naked people isn’t is idea of a relaxing vacation. It’s uncomfortable for him, walking around and seeing so many women with strings up their asses. 

“You just need some company,” Denki said when Shinso voiced his concerns to his friend. “This place is swimming with plenty of pretty babes for the choosing, ‘Toshi! Who wouldn’t want to spend some time with the top underground hero in Japan?” 

Though Denki's compliment works somewhat, Shinso isn’t concerned with meeting someone for a hookup. He isn’t even really interested in sex…until he meets you, at least. While Denki is busy trying to flirt with some girls standing by a hot dog stand, Shinso slinks away into a nearby trinket store. His eyes roam over the seashell fridge magnets and snow globes with the fake snow replaced with sand. He thinks about which gift would be good for Eri, his little sister, until his eyes land on you. 

There you stand a few feet away at a shelf of trinkets, standing on your tip toes with one of your chunky arms outstretched. You’re trying to reach for a pink seashell-shaped purse on the top shelf, and though you know damn well you can’t reach it, you still try. 

Shinso is no longer interested in checking out the store items now that he’s got a look at you. You’re the best thing in here, from your plump little frame to the pink clothes you wear…if you can even call them clothes. 

You’re really wearing just a mesh pink cover-up dress with a hot pink bikini underneath. The bikini top ties around your neck and back, exposing your rolls, while the bottoms are stuck in between your luscious, plump asscheeks that all Shinso wants to do is shove his face in. While he’s still uncomfortable seeing you in a thong, it's a different kind of discomfort now. He can feel his cock chub against his shorts, uncomfortably so. 

“Excuse me?” It takes him a moment to realize you’re talking to him because of how dazed he is from your ass. You’ve turned around to face him now, showing your front, and dear fuck, does he wish you wouldn’t have. He can now see how the bikini top barely covers your big, juicy breasts and how your tummy bulges slightly over the string waist of your thong. Your lips, kissable and soft, shin in pink, glittery gloss and your cute little fingernails and toenails are coated in pink paint. Everything about you is pink. 

He decides that the color fits you especially well when you open your mouth to speak again. “I'm so sorry,” you giggle sheepishly, giving him a smile that feels like a punch in the gut, “but could you help me reach that bag up there?” You point one chunky hand up towards the top shelf. “I’m just too short to reach.” 

Shinso blushes at the sound of your voice, so sweet and innocent-sounding. He wonders how you’d sound moaning his name with his cock buried deep inside of you. “Uh, sure,” he replies, his voice sounding dry and gravely. He can barely breathe. You excitedly clap your hands, thanking him profusely for his help. “I was so sure I’d end up tripping over these,” you giggle, pointing down at your pink sandal wedges. What a pretty princess, you are. 

“It’s whatever,” Shinso deadpans as he walks over to you. “Wouldn’t want nothin’ to happen to those shoes.” He glances down at them. “Steve Madden, huh?” he asks, loving it when you flush shyly at his observation. “I had some extra money,” you confess. “So I splurged. But they’re cute, right?!” 

‘So, so cute,’ he thinks, but he isn’t referring to the shoes one bit. When he steps beside you to reach for the bag, he catches a whiff of your body spray. It is sweet and delectable, like whipped cream or sugar. God, could you get any cuter? As if answering him, his cock throbs painfully in his shorts. He barely has to stand on his toes to reach the bag, causing you to cutely gasp at his height. “Wow!” you say, shocked. “You’re so tall! I’ve never met anyone as tall as you.” 

Shinso chuckles when he grabs the bag and holds it out to you. “Well, now you have. And you’re welcome…” He trails off, wishing you’d take a hint and spill the space in with your name. He watches as you gulp and stare up at him with those big, doe-like eyes as you take the bag from him. When you do, your fingers brush against his, sending an electric shock through him as if Denki just used his quirk on him. 

“T-Thank you,” you softly stutter. “And I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr…” You trail off too, cutely puckering your lips. “No Mr,” Shinso chuckles. “Just Shinso. Or Hitoshi. Whichever you want.” 

You tap one painted nail against your chin thoughtfully. “Hit-o-shi,” you carefully pronounce. Shinso has to suppress a groan at the sight of your soft lips forming his name.

“Can I call you ‘Toshi?” you ask, hope in your eyes. And something more. Mischief, it looks like. Hitoshi’s interest reaches its peak when he realizes that there is a whole other side to you than the cute, innocent persona he’s seeing right now. 

He copies your move and thoughtfully taps his finger against his chin, earning a sweet giggle from you. “Only if I can call you princess,” he replies smoothly. “And maybe buy you somethin’ to eat? I’ll admit that I’m not too familiar with the boardwalk though.” 

You look rather shy from the pet name, but you don’t let that stop you from conversing more with him. “Is it your first time here?” you ask, gasping when he nods. “Oh, you’re gonna have so much fun! They have the best funnel cakes and pizza here! I’ll tell you what, ‘Toshi: I’ll treat you to food for doing such a good deed and helping me get my bag. Deal?” 

You reach your hand out for him, peering up at him through your thick, doll-like lashes. All Shinso wants to do is fuck you silly while you look at him like that, but instead, he takes your hand, smirking at the way you bite your lip. “It’s a deal, princess,” he huskily says. 

SHIGIRAKI - There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing to people. There’s just no way! Do you know what you’re doing to him? 

These are the thoughts that run through Shiggy’s head when you step into the dimly-lit, crowded bar with Toga by your side. The two of you giggle to each other, looking like the best of friends in your little sundresses and tiny purses that hang off of your wrists. The only difference between you and Toma the combination of innocence and sexiness you seem to ooze. 

Toga had said she was inviting a friend of hers to the annual bar hop adventures she, Shiggy, and half of the LOV always have at this exact bar. Dabi knows the guy so they get drinks half off and the cops aren’t called despite them being out and about in the city. He sits with Dabi, Mr. Compress, and Twice (who won’t shut the fuck up) now, a whiskey in his hand that he knows he’s going to need when you finally come up to greet him. 

Shiggy was initially against Toga bringing a stranger into their activities. “What if she talks?” he hissed. “How can you be so sure she won’t blab to the police about us? How do you even know this girl?” Toga barely gave him a glance as she poured herself some juice in the kitchen in their lair. “She’s an old childhood friend of mine,” she explained. “And no, she’s not gonna talk because she hates cops and heroes. I promise you’ll love her! She’s got a wicked streak to her.” 

When he sees you, he can’t tell what about you is so ‘wicked’. You look like the cutest package of candy in your short, pink sundress that barely covers your ass or your tits that jiggle enticingly. He doesn’t even think you’re wearing a bra. You paired the dress with some pink heels, a charm bracelet, and two high pigtails that he envisions yanking on while his cock is buried deep in your– 

“Hey, guys!” Toga giggles when she finally makes it to the stools. Shiggy nearly jumps out of his skin, earning a low chuckle out of Dabi. “This is my friend, Y/N. The one from my childhood? I told you I was bringing her tonight, remember?” She gives you a toothy, excited grin, allowing you to introduce yourself further. 

“Nice to meet you all,” you say in your sugary, sweet voice that washes over Shiggy. “I hope I’m not interrupting your night out, but Toga insisted I meet you all.” Twice is the first one to make an impression, hopping out of his seat to greet you. “Not at all!” he brightly chirps. “I’m Twice, by the way. This here is Dabi, Spinner, and Shiggy.” 

Spinner gives you a nod while Dabi only glances and Shiggy glares at Twice. “Shigaraki,” he corrects his friend. Toga rolls her hazel eyes while you giggle to yourself. “Ignore him,” she sighs. "Come, sit right here with me! I’ll order us some drinks. Do you like those fruity ones?” 

Eagerly, you nod, making you even cuter. You then turn to him, your big eyes stopping him short of breathing. “Um…is this seat taken?” you ask, pointing one red-painted nail at the empty stool. To anyone else, he would’ve said something smart, but he can’t even muster words with how soft your lips look and the sweet smell of your perfume filling his senses. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ he thinks to himself. He’s never had any woman make him feel this way before. He thought these kinds of feelings were long gone. 

He nods, earning a blinding smile from you as you take a seat. As you do, the hem of your dress rides up, revealing a sliver of thigh that has Shiggy’s cock throbbing uncomfortably in his sweats. From his right side, Dabi leans in towards him. “You’d better snag that before someone else does, Shig,” he teasingly whispers. “That someone bein’ me.” 

Shiggy glances at his friend, irked at his attempt at pushing his buttons. He knows Dabi also has a thing for innocence; especially ruining it. He turns to you, already finding you looking at him. “You listen to Nine Inch Nails?” you ask, quiet excitement in your voice. Shiggy blinks, confused as to what you mean, until you point at his band shirt. “I like them too! Have you ever been to one of their shoes?” 

It takes Shiggy some time to process words, but he doesn’t keep you waiting or questioning yourself. “Uh, yeah,” he replies. “Two years ago. You listen to metal like that?” His eyes graze over your outfit and your body, picturing you without clothes. “‘Cause it doesn’t look like it.” 

You giggle, adorably scrunching you nose. “It doesn’t,” you agree, “but yeah! I’m into a lot of hard metal and rock, but not too much screamo. That doesn’t keep me out of Hot Topic though.” Shiggy smirks at your confession and nods down at his wrist. You look down, gasping at the spiked Hot Topic bracelet sitting there. “It’s like we’re one and the same,” you softly laugh, smiling at the bartender when he lowers your pretty, fruity drink down. 

Shiggy watches you sip your drink, your gloss stain on the glass rim making him want to cum all over your mouth. “Are we really?” he asks, but not unkindly. He is actually very curious and interested in you. What is it about you that Toga likes? 

He gets his answer when you turn to him, a mischievous, dark glint in your pretty eyes. Despite your cutesy appearance and pretty clothes, you now appear before him as someone else. Someone darker. “We could always find out,” you suggest, a slight purr in your voice. He doesn’t know if it’s an accident, but your knee slightly brushes his when you shift in your seat. 

Those words are all Shiggy needs. After one too many drinks and the whole “getting to know you” shit, you find yourself underneath him in his bed, your legs up by your ears and your pretty, pink dress on his bedroom floor. Shuddery moans and grunts leave his lips every time he drives his cock into you again and again, his hands wrapped around your ankles. “Tell me how it feels,” he growls. “Tell me, slutty girl.” 

You whine for him, your lipgloss smudged off of your lips and pretty breasts jiggling for him as he fucks you into the mattress. “It feels good!” you babble, your mascara smudged. “You feel so good, Shigaraki!” 

“Tomura,” he grunts down to you. “Call me Tomura.” Realization clears in your dazed eyes and your pretty face splits into a smile before he swoops down to swirl his tongue with yours in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. 

A sudden bang comes from above the wall above your head where the headboard bangs against it. “Could you two shut the fuck up?” Dabi yells. “I’m tryin’ to sleep off this whiskey.” 

“Yeah!” Toga agrees. “I brought my friend tonight to get to know you, Shiggy, but not like this! You’ll ruin her!” A light giggle leaves your lips as Shiggy continues to rock his hips into your wet, tight walls. You lean up, your sticky lips at his ear. “I’m already ruined,” you whisper. “Can you ruin me more, Tomura?” 

Shiggy didn’t need you to repeat. The entire night he spent ruining you over and over again, covering you in his cum until the dawn. Now he thinks you could be an extra good addition to the LOV crew. 

PRO!BAKUGOU - Note: Reader is Chubby

He could’ve blown his fucking load when Mina brings you along for mini golf one night. 

It’s just an ordinary summer evening where he and the squad are playing mini golf and slurping down milkshakes before you show up. Initially, Bakugou is irked waiting for you and Mina to show up, hating when people are late. “Where the fuck are these two?” he huffs. “They’d better not be doin’ their hair or somethin’ ‘cause I’m gonna be pissed if they are.” 

“You know how girls are, ‘Suki,” Kiri chuckles, watching Denki try to aim his ball at a hole surrounded by gnome and fairy statues. “Mina takes forever to do her makeup sometimes, but it’s all to look nice for us. I’d think her friend is doing the same thing.” 

As if on cue, Sero announces their arrival from his seat. “Look!” he exclaims, a chocolate milkshake in his hand. “They’re here! And damn, does her friend look good.” Each boy turns to look at you and they can all agree. Especially Bakugou. 

He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you strut up with Mina, arms hooked in one another’s. You’re wearing a low cut, white crop top with a push-up bra that make your breasts look immaculate and delicious and a tiny, pink tennis skirt that starts at the waistband of your pudgy stomach and stops right at the top of your thick, jiggly thighs. You paired this outfit with white Nike low tops and pink knee socks that make you look more innocent than the cute little smile on your face that gets wider the closer you get to him and the guys.

He can’t stop staring at you, especially when you get closer and he gets to drink in all of the other details to you––how short you are compared to him (you barely graze his chest!); the Fenty gloss on your plump lips; the tiny bow clip in your hair; the scent of fruit on your skin that makes him dizzy. 

Are you fucking forreal? How are you going to show up like that as if it’s normal? Are you trying to tease him? Are you playing with him? Bakugou can’t help but be irrationally angry from how cute and sexy you are. How is it possible to be both cute and sexy? All he knows is that his dick knows the answer judging by how it’s pushing up against his briefs at the sight of you now. 

Mina stops you right in front of him despite his raging hard-on. Just his fucking luck. “Fellas,” she says with a smile, “this is my friend, Y/N. We work together at my agency and she was just dying to meet you guys.” 

You flush, becoming shy at Mina’s teasing. “C’mon, Mina,” you softly whine, bumping your hip with hers. God, what Bakugou wouldn’t give to feel those hips in his big hands! Would you let him? There’s no way you wouldn’t. Your short skirt says that you want his hands all over you. 

“Oh, really?” Denki asks, raising a brow. He struts up to you, already putting on the charm. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he purrs, shaking your hand. “I’m Denki, by the way. You probably know me as Chargebolt.” He raises your hand to kiss it, but is stopped by Bakugou tossing a golf ball at his head. “Kill the flirting, perv,” he grumbles as Denki rubs his temple, glaring at him. 

“Sorry about them,” Mina sighs, but you just giggle. Bakugou’s ears perk at the sound. “That’s Kirishima and Sero aka Red Riot and Cellophane.” Kiri gives you a friendly wave while Sero gives you a wink that Bakugou doesn’t particularly like either. “And Bakugou already made his grand introduction,” Mina sarcastically says. 

You finally face him entirely and he sees your smile falter somewhat when your eyes land on his. Bakugou notices immediately. Do you not like what you see? Are you intimidated by him? He backs up to try and give you space, realizing how small you really are…small enough to break…small enough to toss around in a bedroom. His bedroom, preferably. 

“Nice to meet all of you,” you sweetly say, though your eyes are still on him. “I'm exposing myself here, but I am a big fan of you guys! I’ve got all your posters and merch!” Everyone except Bakugou laughs at your cute little confession. “Oh, yeah?” Sero asks, raising a pierced brow. “So who’s your favorite hero, Y/N? It’s okay, you can tell us.” 

He, Kiri and Denki look at you, interested despite your obvious shyness and discomfort. Even though Bakugou won’t admit it, even he is interested. Even so, he decides to come to your rescue, shocking every single one of his friends. “Ignore them,” he murmurs as he passes you a golf club. “You want next game or what?” 

You stare up at him with those big eyes, looking shocked he’s even saying much to you. You wrap one hand around the golf club, giving him a look at your pink manicure. He can’t imagine how they’d look on his cock while you’re stroking it for him. “I would,” you say, “but I’m not much of a player. I wore the right outfit for it though!”

You swish your hips around in your pink skirt, making Bakugou’s cock even harder when he thinks he catches a glimpse of your inner thighs. “Show her, Katsuki!” Kiri shouts from the sidelines. “She is our guest, after all.” The redhead gives him a knowing wink which emits a growl from Bakugou. 

“Whatever,” he huffs. Despite being pissed that his friends know he is whipped, he leads you over to one of the golf holes located up on a hill surrounded by wooden fans. You stand to the side, your tongue thoughtfully licking your bottom lip and giving him some awful thoughts about your mouth. “Am I doin’ it right?” you ask, even bending your knees though it’s still the incorrect form. 

Bakugou nearly laughs at your cuteness. “Nah, but I’ll give you points for your eagerness. Want me to show you?” You peer at him from over your shoulder and nod. Without even realizing how this looks, he stands behind you, putting a good distance between his front and your back to avoid giving you a taste of his raging bulge. 

“Stand with your hips square with your feet,” he explains, doing his best to not breathe in your shampoo. You do so before his hands cup yours over the golf club. “Take it back once, aim for the ball, and…” He helps you swing the club at the ball, your body twisting with his as you do. The ball goes soaring up the hill and into the hole, never missing. 

From the sidelines, the gang applauded you. “I did it!” you excitedly shout, turning to him. “We did it!” You jump up and down, giving Bakugou a great view of your breasts jiggling and bouncing about. You’re not making this easy for him at all, especially with that pretty smile on your face. “And that’s why you’re my favorite,” you confess. 

Bakugou scowls at you, confused. “Huh?” 

You look down at your shoes, suddenly shy. “The guys asked me who my favorite hero was out of all of you,” you softly say. “And it’s you ‘cause you’re so sweet.” Bakugou’s brain short-circuits. Sweet. You think he's sweet! You, the sweetest little thing he’s ever met. Suddenly, the air between you changes to something more open and flirtatious. He wants to know everything about you now. 

“Well,” he replies, a smirk on his lips, “maybe you can tell me more about how sweet I am over a milkshake?” You look up at him, excitement in your pretty eyes. “And over a phone call!” Denki calls from the sidelines. “Give her your number, dude!” 

Bakugou swears if looks could kill, his friends would be dead by now. But he does, in fact, give you his number at the end of the night. 

PRO!KIRI - Note: Reader is Chubby

‘Mine.’ 

That’s all he can think when he sees you for the first time at the gym. As soon as he sees you in your tight, pink sports bra and shorts that cup your shapely, plump ass so nicely, it’s a fucking wrap for him. You pop up on the treadmill next to him and he immediately notices despite him jogging. So far, he’s at five miles. Another five to go. 

He knows he can’t be distracted by anything that will ruin his workout, but so far, the distraction is winning. You glance at him and offer a smile that makes your little cheeks and baby face even cuter. The sight of you nearly knocks the air out of him. He manages to smile back at you, trying his best to not seem menacing with his sharp teeth, but you don’t seem too disarmed. 

He then pretends to go back to what he’s doing (working out), but all the while, he pays attention to your every move. He watches as one of your chunky fingers presses the buttons on the treadmill, your fingernail pained a glittery pink. Then you start walking along the moving convator belt, your high ponytail swishing behind you and reminding him of some very naughty things, like wrapping his fist in it while his cock is buried in the delectable pussy that he knows hides behind those shorts. 

He’s admittedly never dated a woman of your size or shape before. Honestly, he hasn’t had too many girlfriends due to his demanding job as a pro hero. But looking at the way your breasts jiggle in your sports bra and your soft, chubby waist behind your shorts is making him think differently. Not to mention how short you are. He’s got a thing for short girls. Maybe it’s because of the whole protection thing. He likes feeling tall and big enough to protect his girl from everyone and everything, you? You definitely fit the bill. 

These thought scare him slightly. Why is he pining after a whole stranger in a gym and thinking that you’re his? He’s eyeing you down like you’re a piece of food and he’s starving for it. He immediately turns away and blushes as red as his hair. ‘This is so unmanly,’ he thinks, criticizing himself for his behavior. 

But goddamn, are you too fine! Most of the men in here seem to think so too. He notices their eyes crawling across your body, stopping on your ass and boobs. He glances at you worriedly, wondering if you notice it too. But you’re too busy singing along to the music in your pink AirPods, your voice making him crack a smile. You’re just too cute! 

He doesn’t make his move on the first day though. He waits for about a month before he actually says something to you. Every time he comes in on the weekends, he does so on the same day at the same time hoping to see you. And he does. You strut in wearing your short, tight gym attire with your J’Adore Dior duffle bag, your ponytail bouncing. You greet each other with smiles before he watches you get into your workout, paying close attention to the way your body moves and any gym rats who may want to bother you. 

The day he actually makes a move isn’t one he planned on. It’s a Saturday morning and he’s busy with his cool-down stretches, pretending not to be looking at you in the mirror squatting with a kettlebell between your chunky hands. His eyes marvel at your body, wondering how you’d feel in an embrace or underneath him. Those thoughts quickly dissipate though when someone walks up to you. 

He is buff and about the same height as Kiri with tattoos and a muscle tee. Immediately, Kiri switches into protection mode and strains to hear your convo. “Hey,” the guy greets you. You pause with your workout, lowering the kettlebell down. “Hi,” you sweetly greet, giving him a smile. Kiri bristles. Those smiles are meant for him only! 

“I’m Trent,” the guy says, offering his hand for a shake. You take it, still the sweetheart. “Y/N,” you introduce yourself. Kiri notices that Trent’s hand lingers a bit more than necessary before it drops from yours. “That’s some outfit, y’know,” he chuckles, leaning against one of the machines as he attempts to put the charm on. 

“Thanks!” you giggle. “I bought this week. I just love pink. It’s such a pretty color.” Trent nods, his eyes trailing lustfully over your body in your tight one-piece unitard and cropped hoodie that stops just above your sternum. You don’t notice but Kiri does. “You know, I could always help you with this workout,” Trent suggests. "Help you get deeper into those squats.” 

You blink at him, obviously confused. “Are you a trainer?” you ask innocently. Kiri feels his cock stir. God, you’re just too cute! Trent smirks down at you. “I can be that and more,” he purrs. “Here, let me get you a mat!” 

“O-oh, that’s okay,” you protest. “I-I’m not–“ But he’s already moving to get you a mat and bends down to put it under your feet, eyeing your thighs and calves as he does so. You look so, so uncomfortable.’That’s it!’ Kiri thinks, irked to no end. He’s watched for long enough. He can't stop himself from rising to his feet and storming over to you and Trent, anger stirring within him. 

When he stops near you, you’re the first one that sees him. He thinks he sees the corner of your lips twitch into a smile but he isn’t too sure. He stares down at Trent, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I think she said she’s fine, Trent,” he firmly says, practically spitting the guy’s name. “You should listen to her.” 

Trent pauses and glares up at Kiri. “What do you care?” he scoffs. “So I suddenly can’t be a nice guy?” Kiri glares back at him, his red eyes sharp. “We both know what you’re bein’ nice for,” he almost growls. “And I’m not about to sit by and watch you bother this girl just for some nookie. Leave her alone before I call security.” He eyes Trent down, daring him to fight this. 

Trent stands, his jaw tight and eyes sharp. He glances at you before scoffing to himself and storming off, heading for the locker room. Once he’s gone, you sigh in relief. “Thank you,” you say with gratitude. “I have no idea why he wanted to give me a mat. I didn’t even need one!” 

Kiri relaxes, but only slightly. You’re talking to him. You two are really talking! “Don't thank me,” he chuckles modestly. “Not that I don't think you can handle yourself, but I saw him tryin’ to spit game and you not enjoyin’ it too much, so I just had to step in.” He dares to look down at you and almost creams on the spot at the sight of your cleavage. “W-Well, I’m gonna go and let you–“ 

“I’m Y/N,” you instantly say, twirling the drawstring to your hoodie. You offer him a gloss-lipped smile that gives him butterflies. “Ejirou,” he replies. “Kiri for short.” You giggle to yourself. “I know; other than you being Red Riot, I hear your name all the time here.” He blushes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m a regular here. It’s one of the only gyms that are safer for pros like me.” 

“Well, I’ll keep your secret,” you giggle, “but only if you agree for me to buy you lunch for your good deed.” From the way you slightly rub your thighs together and peer up at him through your lashes, he feels like you’re thinking of a lot more than just lunch. And he wants to know just what. 

He smirks down at you, trying hard to ignore his dick chubbing in his basketball shorts. “Maybe,” he replies, playing along. “I think I’d need your number for that though. I mean, just to tell you what I like…for lunch.” He almost kicks himself. You giggle to yourself, already pulling your rose gold iPhone out of your pocket. “It’s a date then!” you chirp. 

After leaving the gym with your number in his phone, he can’t help but nut to the thought of you while in his car minutes later, the vision of your pretty lips and body coated in his sticky cum making him fuck his fist a little harder. Call him unmanly, but goddamn, he can't wait for the real thing!  

DABI - When he first sees your cute little self in your mini skirt that barely covers your ass, he just wants to follow you around and scare anyone who dares to look at you the wrong way. 

And that’s exactly what he does. ‘Cause what the fuck are you doing strutting around like that in this club? Don’t you know how you’re dressed? You’re dressed like you want to get fucked. Though he can’t see you from the front, he can tell you’re wearing a halter top judging from the tie around your slender back. And no bra? Those titties must be bouncing everywhere! 

As you can damn well tell, Dabi likes the innocent girls…or the girls who look innocent. Something about ruining them and bringing out that nasty, dark, devious side to them that he knows lies deep underneath their soft, pink, sweet personality. And you’re no different. 

So he lies deep in the cut and watches you laugh and chat with people, blushing cutely when they compliment your clothes and being completely oblivious to the guys who stare you down like they want to eat you alive. He sips on his drink and eyes your legs, wondering how they’d feel wrapped around him. 

It doesn’t take long for this little game to come to an end. You step outside for some air and he’s right behind you, but he doesn’t go out immediately. He watches as you lean against the wall and dig into your pink purse for your bubblegum. Finally, he comes outside, feeling blessed that he can finally get you alone. 

You don't even flinch when he comes up to stand beside you, taking a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket. In fact, you give him a smile as you chew on your bubblegum, your pink lips forming an O for a big bubble. He imagines those lips forming an O when you moan while his tongue is buried deep in your cunt that lies beneath that skirt. From his angle, he can finally see the rest of your outfit––a glittery, pink halter top paired with platform boots and luscious, curly hair that makes you look like one of those early 2000s movie stars. 

“Want some?” you ask, holding the box of gum out to him. His eyes flick from the box to your big, doe-like eyes rimmed with mascara to make them look almost like a doll’s. Like his pretty little doll. “You’re askin’ a stranger whether or not he wants your gum?” he asks, raising a curious brow at you before puffing on his cig. 

You giggle adorably, almost ditzy-like. “You’re not a stranger, silly!” you protest. He blinks down at you, confused. “I saw you when I came into the club with my friend…and while you were following me around.” 

Dabi blanches. Fuck, he’s been caught! How did you even notice? “Accept my apology,” he sighs, smoke billowing from his lips. “Couldn't help myself. You just look too damn cute to be in there not bein’ looked after.” 

At this, you become shy and advert your eyes as a bashful smile adorns your pretty face. “You know, smoke is a bad habit,” you softly say. He nods, agreeing. “What’s your point?” he asks, paying close attention to your body language. He notices how tight your thighs are pressed together and the way your fingers fiddle with your skirt. You’re wanting something. 

“Because…” Your eyes slowly trail back to his, now hooded and lustful. “Nicotine breath ruins kisses,” you purr. “And I’d really like a kiss from you. I have to thank you for watching my back in there, don’t you think?” 

Dabi swears he’s never been harder in his life. He’s also have never ditched a cig that wasn’t a stub yet either, but the promise of finally getting your lips on his makes him toss the cig down and crunch it under his shoe. 

Several minutes later, your glossy, soft lips are on his, the taste of strawberries in his mouth, while his cock is buried deep in your soft, wet pussy. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he grips your hips, your skirt hiked up and your lace panties pushed to the side to give him all the freedom to fuck you as he pleases. And he does so.

“You’re just like a doll,” he grunts into your ear, growing harder with every breathy moan that leaves your lips. “Are you my pretty baby doll tonight?” 

All he gets his a broken moan of his name in response. He chuckles to himself as he lifts your leg up slightly and continues to fuck you silly behind the nightclub. He knew you had a devious side.

NATSUO - You were just the cute girl in his class that he couldn’t stop thinking about. 

You would walk in wearing the cutest outfits known to man, all of them with pink tossed in. His favorite one was the cropped pink sweater and white skirt that swished around your legs and hiked up slightly in the back to give him a sneak peek of your thighs. That was the first day you two met. You had sat in front of him and rummaged around in your backpack, oblivious to Natsuo burning a hole in your back. 

You sighed adorably and turned to him randomly, your glossy lips in an adorable pout that had his cock stirring in his jeans. “Hi,” you say with a smile. “Sorry to bug you, but I forgot my pen at home. Do you have one I can borrow?” 

It took a minute for Natsuo to answer because he was too busy staring at your lips move, envisioning his dick between them. “U-Uh, yeah,” he finally replied, idiotically so. He dug into his backpack and handed you one of his best ink pens. 

You happily smiled as you took the pen from him, your soft fingers grazing against his. “Thanks!” you chirped. “I promise I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day.” And you did. That is when your friendship began. He begins letting you borrow your pens while you send him notes from class if he’s too tired to pay attention and falls asleep during class, dreaming of himself bending you over one of the desks. 

When you first asked him to help you study for your midterm exam, he can’t believe his luck. “You’re just so smart,” you whine as you two walk alongside each other in the hall. “I can’t afford to fail, so I need your help. Meet you at your dorms this weekend? I’ll bring snacks!” 

He was helpless to refuse you, but the idea of being alone with you this weekend made him want to bust and hide under his bed at the same time. He didn’t have that much experience with girls, especially pretty, cute, adorable ones like you. He spends the whole day cleaning up his space and gargling down Listerine mouthwash before you arrive. 

When you do, it’s at 5 PM after you get off your shift. You show up at his door in a pretty, baby pink dress carrying a bag of snacks and sodas. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you say after Natsuo invites you in and get you situated at the table in the middle of his dorm. “I just know I’m gonna pass with you as a tutor.” 

He blushes at the compliment. How is it you’re so sweet? “S’cool,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I’m happy to help. Thank you for the snacks though.” He ogles at the all of the snacks you pour out of your bag––Pocky boxes; chips; cookies; biscuits. You embarrassingly giggle, picking at your pink nails. “I, uh…like snacks,” you shyly confess. 

‘Oh, God,’ Natsuo laments in his head as his cock surges in his sweats. Why the fuck did he wear sweats?! Why the fuck are you so cute?! This is not going to be easy. 

It doesn’t get any easier for him as the night goes on. He gets distracted at some points at the crumbs dusting the corner of your mouth or the way you swipe your gloss over your lips. He tries not to freak out when you lean in to point out words you’re having trouble remembering the definitions for, the scent of your birthday cake body wash and the feeling of your bosom against his forearm. Are you doing this on purpose? 

Despite him explaining and breaking down the study guide for you, all he can think about is dirtying up your dress with his cum or plunging his cock in and out of the gushy walls of your pussy. It’s impossible not to. He’s practically sweating halfway during the session so he has to strip himself of his hoodie, revealing his blue tee underneath that stretches across his muscles. 

When you finally finish the session, it’s around 7 PM and you’ve correctly remembered most of the guide. When Natsuo gives you an approving smile, you squeal and jump on him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you cheer, wrapping your arms tight around him. He blushes, feeling your breasts pushing against his chest. “You’re such a good tutor! I’m gonna ace this exam because of you!” 

Natsuo laughs at your cuteness, giving you a one-armed hug in respect to you. “It’s no problem,” he says. “It helps when you have such a great student.” 

You pull away from him, peering up at him with those big eyes and that pretty face. “You know,” you say, your voice suddenly dipping an octave but still oh-so soft, “I’d hate to leave here and not repay you for such great work.” Your hands find his and you begin playing with his fingers, his cock stirring as you do. “Is there anyway you can think of, Natsuo?” you ask, batting your lashes prettily at him. 

Oh, does he. And he knows you exactly what when he has you lying down in his bed with your dress hiked up on your hips where his hands are and his tongue finally fucking your pussy. “Fuck, Natsuo!” you whine, your hands in his snow-white hair. “Please!” 

He moans as he pulls his tongue out of your wet hole and stares up at you. “Stop what, honey?” he asks, smiling at your blissful expression. “You wanted this, didn’t you? To repay me?”

His thumb finds your clit and begins slowly rubbing it, relishing the way you squirm for him. “Well, now you can.” 

#bnha smut #smutty smut #18+ #drabble #bnha drabble #deku x black!reader #my works #my drabbles #bimbo reader #bakugou x fem!reader #hitoshi x fem!reader #natsuo todoroki x fem!reader #dabi x fem!reader #kirishima x fem!reader #chubby reader #black writers #shigaraki x fem!reader

[enhaeven]

look closely | psh (m.)

pairing: sunghoon x reader

genre: smut, angst?, gala!au, idk what they are

word count & rating: 4k | 18+ (minors gtfo)

summary: you've been spending a lot of time with Sunghoon lately so he's not entirely pleased when you showed up with a date after turning down his offer.

warnings/content: jealousy • dirty talk • nipple/breast play, kinda mirror sex? • rough oral sex? (fellatio/deepthroating) • voyeurism? • hair pulling • pain kink lmao, semi-public sex again 😭, phones are being used of course ;)

a/n: ik it was supposed to be hockey!hoon from the poll but this mf posted and i was seeing things smh.

to say Sunghoon was confused is an understatement.

especially when you entered the doors arm in arm with none other than his best friend.

jake? when did this happen?

a series of questions start occupying Sunghoon's mind. at first, he didn't mind you rejecting him when he asked you to be his Valentine's date. maybe it was too much for you, that going to the gala with him might give your schoolmates the wrong idea.

and as always, Sunghoon took it like a man though it did confuse him cause he thought you both were on the same page. he was planning to ask you out if you had said yes but it's probably too early for it.

for you both to be official.

you've been spending a lot of time together since the beginning of the second semester. going on dates, studying together, and fucking each other's brains out for stress relief so Sunghoon thought there was something there but now he thinks that he read everything wrongly.

he's fully aware that you don’t owe him anything but he couldn't help himself feeling a little dumbfounded going alone to this event that your department's hosting. he thought that you'd be alone too but as he watches you and Jake wandering around to find your assigned table, he's lowkey regretting not asking other girls to keep him company instead.

.

you immediately felt Sunghoon's stare as soon as you entered the doors with Jake. rejecting him wasn’t really your intention because you'll gladly be his date for this event. it’s just that everything's becoming too real and confusing when he never even asked you to be his in the first place.

that's why you've been taking your distance.

it was just a simple date for a gala though so it shouldn't have mattered to you nor mean much to Sunghoon. he’d probably have a substitute date after you declined that’s why you said yes to Jake when he asked so you won’t look like a fool just in case you see Sunghoon there with someone else.

you don’t know if Jake knew that his best friend asked you first. with how close they are, surely it should be given that he’ll be aware but the surprise on Sunghoon’s face tells you otherwise.

now you’re utterly fucked.

this could appear as a low blow to Sunghoon since Jake’s his best friend. you should've considered this possibility when you agreed to be Jake's date but it somehow slipped your mind for whatever reason. it must be the desperation in you, considering him as a blessing in disguise when he asked you pretty last minute because you were already debating on not going.

seeing Sunghoon with a date would only ruin your night even if it's your fault. so you really thank the stars that Jake decided to ask you since you're already familiar with each other. besides, he’s a very sweet guy who’s become dear to you after sharing a class with him last semester so why not?

you’ve already acknowledged your stupidity in decision making anyway so might as well go through with it.

to ease up your nerves, you try conversing with Jake as soon as you both sit down, avoiding the pull to look at Sunghoon's way who's standing by the counter. you can see his figure from your peripheral view, wondering why he's still there when everyone is settling in their seats since the program's about to start.

could he be avoiding you and Jake? or is it the many girls crowding him? still taking chances if he'd entertain them since he didn't bring a date.

you’re sure they hounded him as soon as he arrived by himself but he could be waiting for you. to see if you were alone as well based on how he reacted earlier so now the guilt has been eating you up more quickly than you anticipated.

.

Sunghoon should've picked any of those girls to sit by him as he approached your table. watching you flirt with Jake was harder for him than he initially thought.

it riles Sunghoon up that you're being so sweet with Jake, even putting your hands on his chest whether it’s intentionally or not. he couldn’t even blame his best friend cause Jake's natural charm can woo anyone who comes across him.

"hoon, man, where's your date?" his friend turns to him as he’s sitting down on the chair while Sunghoon's gaze remains on you.

"nah i don't need one," he says dismissively, quickly switching his gaze to Jake with an amused smile cause he finds it adorable that you're avoiding his eyes.

he also finds it funny how Jake seems to be clueless about this underlying tension between you two, just like how Sunghoon is with this game you're playing. 

he’s sure that he’s been so obvious but he also knows how dense his best friend could be. honestly, Sunghoon doesn’t really care either way if Jake knows whatever's going on or not. what he wants is to understand you because he couldn’t remember doing something that would have pushed you to go for his best friend instead of him.

if Sunghoon had asked anyone, they’d just tell him to move on since you basically gave your answer but he’s a driven man. plus, the way you're acting around him says enough so he smiles wickedly at himself.

this night should be fun. 

if you really don’t give a fuck about him anymore then you would've acted differently so he'll just let you play around with Jake for now.

.

the program's halfway done when you feel someone's leg nudging yours below the table. without a doubt, it’s Sunghoon’s but you're still refusing to look at him. it'll frustrate him for sure but he surprises you when he casually joins your conversation with Jake. hopefully, your date won't notice that you've been avoiding his best friend.

everything was smooth since Sunghoon was doing the same as you, engaging in normal conversations with the others at your table despite his quiet personality. except, for the nonstop heated gazes he throws your way while his long ass legs nudge yours from time to time, provoking you.

you see, ignorance is usually your forte but not when it comes to Sunghoon and he knows that. it's like he must've sensed that you're about to kick his leg away cause he suddenly gets up, excusing himself to go to the washroom.

you end up hitting the chair instead, causing you to wince lightly and grabbing Jake's attention. his best friend, on the other hand, didn’t care about it nor your glare towards his retreating figure. so instead you turn to a very worried Jake and smile reassuringly at him.

"are you sure? you can just sit down and i'll get the food for you later"

"i am jakey, don't worry" you reach out to hold his shoulder and he calms down, relief now in his eyes as you smile at him. he returns it with an even brighter smile and just then realizes how gorgeous he actually is.

but so is Sunghoon, who by the way, hasn’t come back yet. 

you backtracked cause why was he still lingering in your mind. worrying about him was even worse and it's making you restless no matter how much you shrug them away by talking more to Jake.

when dinner starts, your date rises from his seat to line up for food. he offered once again but you declined, leading for his worry to return. still needing a lot of convincing, you stand up and twirl to show Jake that you’re fine.

"see? totally okay! i'll be back okay?" you nod at him as you walk away, eyes immediately looking for Sunghoon who's nowhere to be found. you ponder his whereabouts cause he could be fucking someone right now like he used to in events like these.

the scenario your mind came up with made you uneasy. no denying on your part that seeing Sunghoon earlier with a bunch of girls made your stomach churn. you might totally lose your appetite if you somehow found him in that compromising situation. yes, it's essentially your fault because none of these feelings would be here had you said yes to him.

.

navigating around the empty halls was fortunately easy despite the intricate design of the place. the whole venue screamed classy and elegant so it took you a bit of time to find the large fancy washroom located on the upper floor because you were fawning over the interiors.

it's where you suspect Sunghoon would be instead of the ones downstairs that are usually packed with people. he's the type to find places where no one usually goes, preferring peace amid any form of ruckus.

and you were right, instantly spotting him leaning by the edge of the black marble counter with one hand in his pockets.

"took you long enough" he scoffs, looking up to you from his phone. he looks annoyed as he places it beside him but he proceeds to do you a one over that definitely didn't make you wet now that you're also taking his whole fit at once.

all formal in black with that signature hair of his that you really love.

"well thanks to you" you reply drily, recovering from that small relapse with your annoyance bubbling back to the surface. he must’ve thought it’s directed to him when you’re actually mad at yourself but you’ll let him think that way.

it's fun and this is how you usually talk anyway, bickering and teasing which you surely missed when things got awkward between you since that day.

"me? you're the one who's all over Jake" he huffs, shooting you a glare that you found amusing. he does look cute whenever he’s sulking, especially when he gets jealous although he masks it with indifference each time you call him out on it.

"he's my date hoon" you deadpan, stating the obvious which irks Sunghoon even more but he notices the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“why are you with him?” he starts, trying to sound nonchalant as he leans back. it might be hopeless and he shouldn't care this much but Sunghoon just wants to know the very reason he's alone in this gala.

“why can’t i be with jake?”

he was gonna tell you why if his ears didn't catch the teasing lilt in your tone the more you step closer to him. “isn’t he your best friend hoonie?” you add when he didn't answer, noticing his thick brows scrunching as he adjusts his gold bangle bracelets.

so you are doing it on purpose, staring him down right now with those beautiful eyes and playful smile like you didn’t break his heart weeks ago. he may acted like he was expecting you earlier but you pretty much didn’t care so he's still unsure why you followed him here when Jake's probably out there waiting for you.

maybe Sunghoon was wrong. well, he had been clearly assuming a lot of things so who knows. this could just be his inner desire hoping that you still want him.

“he is, but it doesn’t mean that i’ll share you with him” you're startled when Sunghoon grabs your waist as soon as his arms can reach you. he pulls you closer to him before burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

one of your hands grasps his hair as a reflex, the other gripping his shoulders as you try to come up with a response. it's a bit hard when you can feel his breath fanning against your skin but he holds you for a bit, waiting for you to stop him.

when you didn’t, his lips touched your skin and began leaving kisses around your exposed collarbones. and since Sunghoon's been very familiar with your sensitive spots, he finds your weakest spot in the neck right away, coaxing a needy whimper from you.

“i-i’m not yours hoon” you're struggling to reply when you feel Sunghoon's smile but you love how eager he's been. aside from missing him in general, you’re deprived of his touch too since the last time you were in this position was the day you turned him down.

"no? but this one’s mine right?” both his hands move down and grab a handful of your ass, earning a surprise gasp from you. they're pretty quick too that you didn't even realize Sunghoon's pulled down your dress' plunging neckline, freeing your tits right in front of his face.

he eyes them hungrily as a hand of his stays on holding the hem, embarrassment flooding you as a result though he’s seen your bare body several times already. 

in all honesty, Sunghoon would’ve found your flower shaped pasties adorable if the circumstances were different. he teases you nonstop about them cause he secretly loves it when you wear them instead of bras, easy access each time he touches you.

despite how much he missed you, he's still pissed so he peels them off a bit harshly, eager to taste your perked nipples but he finds it absurd that you're shying away from him.

the audacity of you to come here then.

instead of putting your pasties aside, he keeps them in his pockets and you’re about to protest when his large hands are on your bare tits at once, fondling them briefly before he latches his mouth on one of them.

"h-hoon—" a loud moan slips from your lips when his tongue starts flickering your nipple, leading you to grab his hair again and push his face further on your chest. 

he occasionally bites a nipple as his palm gropes your breast, rendering you speechless at how it feels. you keep arching your back so Sunghoon's other hand returns to gripping your hips steadily.

looking down, you see Sunghoon's playfully making suctions while sucking your tits. it's his way of teasing you as he alternates on sucking both your breasts with his eyes closed, allowing your eyes to fixate on the mole in his nose that you adore.

with your breathing getting heavier every minute, suppressing your giggles has also been difficult each time his hair brushes your skin.

"hoon please.." you didn't plan on begging him but he's just too good at finding what makes you weak. watching his wet tongue and sharp canines graze your nubs didn't help either, heightening the sensation throughout your body so you couldn't help it.

but Sunghoon's a tease so you should've expected him to release your nipples with a pop after hearing your plea. with a taunting grin.

"now you're begging" he snickers, knowing exactly what you want from him. you pay no mind to it, brain’s all muddled currently at watching him lick his lower lips, eyes zeroing in on his saliva disconnecting from your buds.

you turn mute at that, not knowing how to respond to Sunghoon. the usual witty response to counter him’s nowhere to be found. all you can think of is finding ways to return to his good graces so you relent.

“yeah i am” you say quietly which surprises Sunghoon. you’re never the type to beg so he presumes that it's because you’re probably feeling guilty.

that’s why you’re here.

not really to see him but just to make him feel better.

it must be it so he proceeds to stare you down, contemplating if he’ll give you what you want. of course, Sunghoon would want to but he couldn’t possibly let you get away with this stunt you’re pulling tonight.

your exposed wet stricken breasts cause you to shiver while doing your best to maintain Sunghoon's gaze. he's making you wait too long so you softly squeeze his padded shoulders for an answer, watching his face morph back into being smug.

but before Sunghoon can even respond, you drop to your knees and look up at him with pleading eyes. he curses in his head trying to not give in right there. he's gotta keep his hardened exterior cause it's not often you’re this desperate hence why it’s one of his favourites.

“want my dick?” he teases, the familiar sly grin now plastered on his lips. you nuzzle against his clothed thigh as an answer and Sunghoon couldn’t help himself to reach out and caress your cheek.

he sees your hand reaching out and he takes it, allowing you to feel him over. then your hand fumbles to unbutton Sunghoon’s suit blazer, revealing his lean body that compliments his muscled arms.

he's fucking hot with this alone, given your kneeling position and you can't wait to finally make up to him now that he's letting you.

you're still a bit sus though that Sunghoon's making everything so easy.

he must've had other plans so you quickly pull down his pants and boxers, to have his cock in your mouth. you didn't get to though, his ringed fingers threading right through your scalp to stop you. a surprise whine and frustrating sigh escapes you but Sunghoon's enjoying seeing you like this.

“hoonie..” you coo, trying to look more deflated so he’ll release you. your earlier hunch was right and now little whore in you is excited to have his punishments again. 

you eye his cock, so angry already with the precum coated tip that you’d do anything to taste it again but Sunghoon’s firm grip on your hair reminded you of what you did.

a pout graces your lips, surely he already knows what you’ve been missing. it’s been about a week or two since the last time you fooled around with Sunghoon, the same day you rejected him.

he stares at you intently without saying a word, seemingly unimpressed with your current way of begging. you're getting conscious again, mind scrambling on what else to do to convince him but you can't think of any.

but there's one thing you both have in common, impatience. you see it in the way he grabs his dick to tease your lips with it, running the tip across the edge of your lips. your tongue darts out in hopes of catching it but he suddenly slaps it against your cheek, causing you to pathetically whine against his clothed thigh.

“suddenly this desperate? then why’d you say yes to him?” 

“i…”

you ran out of excuses just because you didn’t want to tell Sunghoon the truth. you’re not sure if he’s aware or which part of the truth he knows. if he does then it wouldn’t be a surprise. he can read you like an open book that’s why avoiding him earlier ended up being pointless.

it’s also why Sunghoon releases his grip on your hair a bit, allowing you to take his cock in your mouth. he misses the warmth your mouth is around him, the eager look in your eyes as you keep bobbing your head to please him.

well, it’s not enough. even for you, cause now he sees that familiar glint in your eyes when you want something more.

his hand didn’t leave your hair the entire time and excitement rush through you as soon as you watch him shift his stance, believing he’ll start fucking your throat.

but Sunghoon doesn't, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

instead, he pushed your head further down his cock, causing you to gag with the sudden movement. good thing you have amazing reflexes, hollowing your cheeks and breathing through your nose as you try to maintain eye contact.

you’re struggling when Sunghoon bunches up your hair and gives it a hard pull.

"did you really think i'd give you what you want?" he taunts, chuckling darkly as you moan around his length, the vibrations turning his laugh into a deep groan.

he would've let you with those begging eyes. he loves the desperation in them, making it one of his weaknesses. there's nothing he wants more than to fuck your throat but he can't give in that easy.

your head game's unmatched and it almost made him forget why you're here until he sees you slow your pace, intentionally taking him deeper until his tip nudges the back of your throat.

his hand returns pulling your hair, to the side this time as he picks up the phone beside him. it stings but you don't mind, letting Sunghoon control the pace of your sucking however he wants.

"so cock hungry, aren't you?" he grits his teeth, followed by a deep grunt.

he's being mean but you don't mind, nodding while your sole focus is running your tongue through the underside of his dick. to hear more of his deep grunts, now that he's mindlessly moving his hips slowly.

already anticipating it, you close your eyes to avoid the flash from Sunghoon's phone. if it'll make him forgive you then so be it.

you're not too concerned right now other than to make sure he finishes in your mouth. it boosts your ego, how you must've been doing so good for him to record you like this.

which suddenly ceased as soon as he releases your hair, his cock slipping out your drooling mouth.

"hoon?" you query, voice a bit confused as to why he's stopping you when you sense that he's close. 

"get up" he spits and you obey, a bit disappointed when you see him putting his very hard length back in his pants.

before you can protest, Sunghoon flips you around and pulls you against him. now you're both facing the other mirror in front of you while you're on his lap.

you watch Sunghoon resumes what he was doing before you begged to suck him off. he's kissing your shoulders and upper back this time, ringed hands fondling your tits again and it's increasing your desperation. you can feel how hard he is under you so you start grinding on him out of frustration, hoping he'll finally fuck you.

"w-what do you want hoonie hmm? if you d-don't wanna fuck here then.." you gasp, stammering each word as his groping becomes rougher. "we can go back to dinner then leave after..oh fuck.." you throw your head back when pinches your sensitive nipples, grabbing a handful of his hair behind you.

"pretty sure it's over by now.." he drawls after suddenly releasing you, feeling his breath against your skin as his hands move down to guide your hips. you've been watching him through the mirror this time, looking unfazed while ignoring your words.

"but you still want dessert, right jake?" he adds, shifting his eyes to someone in the corner.

realization washed over you even before following Sunghoon's eyes after hearing the name. there in the corner of the room, you see Jake standing and clutching his phone in one hand while holding the door with widened eyes.

"i was wondering where you are.." his voice echoes, eyes trained on both you and his best friend. you have no idea how long Jake's been standing there, if he saw the whole thing or what. you were too busy focusing on anything else aside from his best friend.

and if he meant you or Sunghoon he didn't specify.

you both should've stopped but his best friend has no intention of, continuing to play with you as if Jake's not there. this tells you exactly how Jake found you both. the way he wasn't entirely surprised at what welcomed him, eyes raking your half-naked form which causes you to squirm against Sunghoon's lap.

Jake looks a bit nervous but there's a slight eagerness swimming in his eyes. you wonder if this is the first time Sunghoon did this, sending him lewd videos or pictures which you honestly find kinda hot. you keep grinding against Sunghoon's cock while watching Jake's gaze fixed on your tits which Sunghoon continues to fondle, earning more needy whines from you.

"figured that he's looking for us.." Sunghoon says wryly as he stops your hips from moving, his unbothered face turning to his best friend like this is just a common scenario between them. you watch Jake gulp nervously, slowly sinking in the implication of Sunghoon's words.

you heard it clearly, his tone alone suggesting that this night's far from over.

not until he's satisfied with your apology now that you have an audience.

e/n: now let's ignore that this was supposed to be for Valentine's but i ain't gonna wait for next year to post this to be on the right season 😭

#enhypen #sunghoon x reader #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon #enha #park sunghoon #enhypen scenarios #smut #kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #enha smut

[pupcuck]

STAY SOFT, GET EATEN !

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. p in v, incest, dub-con that is basically non-con idk

note. unedited cuz i got lazy omg. umm ignore typos :3 sorry my writing is so jolty lately im finding it hard to write so it’s all coming off very clunky but :3 rbs n feedback appreciated !! this is like not actually that smutty I’m sorry 💔 if u see me reusing bits from other old fics pretend it’s new

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

Your dad is hot, an indisputable fact. He’s a total babe, kinda looks like he should’ve been in Baywatch during his prime, got a rack that rivals C. J. Parker’s. Ever since you hit twelve, and the girls in your class suddenly got all boy crazy, you’ve been hearing nonstop about how cute dad is.

Sleepovers were held at yours so they could get a glimpse of him, and your dad might be friendly, but he’s clumsy with conversation, not much of a talker, so he made himself scarce. Then came the slew of questions, you think it was Ashley Graham, the one that didn’t know how to quit it. Airheaded with eyes like chipped peridot.

Hey, where’s your mom? Is she still around, I’ve never heard about her? What kinda girl does your dad like?

My dad doesn’t like kids, freak.

He might, and I’m not a kid! I mean, I turn thirteen in January. I bought a bra at PINK the other day, I even got measured, the lady said I’m an A cup.

Even my dad's are bigger than that, loser.

I’m, like, so not a loser! My mom said I could get a boob job when I turn sixteen, and by then your dad will be, like, what? Thirty?

He’ll be forty-three, dumbass.

Yeah, forty-three, that’s perfect. We can date then as long as you don’t have a mom. I did see a picture on your desk, but that’s your sister right? ‘Cause if that’s your mom, she never picks you up from school, so she’s either dead or they broke up or she hates you, right? I’m so right, aren’t I?

You’re wrong, stupid. My mom just works a lot.

Boo, I totally thought she was dead, well, whatever, if they break up by the time I hit sixteen, I’ll totally be your new step-mom.

For a lack of better words, you wanted that bitch dead. She meant well, you’ve just never met someone so out of touch, the type of girl that hands out Chanel handbags at the food bank.

A few years later, when you turned eighteen, it was Ada Wong, you had this co-dependent, whirlwind friendship that had you by the throat. She was cool, a few years older, and everyone thought she was hot. You were lame, and wanted everyone to think you were hot. What you don’t understand is how on earth it ended with her hand down the front of your dad’s pants at your graduation party. He was totally out of it too, she took advantage of a poor, drunk old man, and the worst part about it? That wasn’t what made you mad. Not that she touched him when he was slurring, tripping over his own feet, you were mad ‘cause she got to touch him in the first place.

When you tell your counsellor, I have a crush on my dad, she falters. She’s this older lady that reminds you of your Auntie Claire, they have the same button nose, and that makes it harder to talk to her. She presents herself professionally, and takes herself a little too seriously, also in the way Auntie Claire does at times. Bitch thinks she’s a psychologist. She has an office tucked right into the corner of your university’s humanities department.

“Well, is your dad absent?” She starts, chews on the lid of her ballpoint pen, the type you get in a pack of two hundred. See, if she were a real psychologist, she’d have a fancy one, with runny ink, and a metallic barrel.

“No, my dad raised me.” Your lips twitch upwards, wanting to scowl at her. ‘Cause this is your thirteenth session, and she knows how close you are to dad.

“Well, then, has your dad ever hit you?” She blinks real slow like it hurts to blink.

“What? No, never.” You’ve asked me these questions before, you stuck-up cow.

“Well, then,” Her eye twitches, you think she might report you to the authorities for being a freak, “Has he ever behaved inappropriately with you?”

The worst your dad has done is ask if you’re on birth control, only once, and he was rightfully worried. “Never, he would never do that.” I don’t know if you’ve been listening, I’m the one that wants to sit on his dick.

She taps her nail on the oak desk, popping open a button on her blouse. Some counsellor she is, mouth drying up ‘cause you have a crush on your dad. “Listen, if it’s not me overstepping boundaries, or being impolite, I’d like to refer you to a therapist.”

No fucking way. Jackpot. You’ve been waiting three months for this, all it took for her to cut the crap was an incestual confession? Although, you really do need to get that fixed, there’s this part of your brain, the cerebellum you believe, that’s been cut out and replaced by a hunk of meat that resembles your father. Whoever did it made a shoddy malpractical mess that you’re left to clean up with scarce supplies and medical knowledge.

“I'd really appreciate that.” You tell her, mustering your toothiest of grins as you pack up your shit and pass through the doorway, never to turn back to advice that consists solely of ‘talk it out’ and ‘use daily affirmations’ and other baseline shit they cover in Cosmopolitan articles you could read for free.

Therapy turns out to be no help. Not ‘cause of the content of the session, this is your first one actually, more ‘cause your therapist resembles dad. A little more on the polished side than your father, with salt and pepper hair that would look so good on him. Leon refuses though, to grow old, that is, to look anything more than thirty - he’s far past that, you think he’s looked old ever since you were born.

It’s going to be a distraction, you might leap out of your seat and fuck this man half to death if he scoots his chair any closer, if he keeps scratching his chin in the way dad does. There’s a copy of Nineteen-Eighteen-Four on the desk behind him, the one with the fabric cover to be specific, embellished by tiny labouring hands to sit pretty on the best-seller shelf in some overpriced independent bookstore. More importantly, it’s the copy that collects dust on your dad’s bedside, the one he insists to have read, but the pages still have that fresh scent to them, and not a single one is dog-eared.

There’s a ring on his ring finger, just like dad’s, and that might be a stretch, ‘cause every married man has a ring on their ring finger. Still reminds you of dad though. His is gold, and dad’s is silver ‘cause mom likes silver. You like silver ‘cause it looks pretty on dad.

He introduces himself, his way of speech is refined, and you can tell he thinks before he speaks unlike dad. Leon is clunky with words, oftentimes crude without realising. Cancellation and no-show fees, your rights, confidentiality, he runs you through all of it - the whole time you’re focused on his lips, the prominent curve of his Cupid’s bow, the double lip line that makes them appear fuller from afar. Just like dad’s lips.

The receptionist frowns when you request to see another therapist, then she begins to click, click, click away at her keyboard. She stops midway to file her nails, then she pops her gum and gives a very simple shake of the head, ponytail moving with her. You doubt the slow bitch even tried, so you make your way home, a heat in your stomach that refuses to fizzle out, an ache so deep only dad could reach it. With his dick, obviously.

Dad’s keys jingle and you hear wedding bells. You check the time, he’s home early, he toes off his shoes and tucks them into the cubby hole shelf mom placed by the door. She’d be down his throat if he left them scattered for her to trip over again.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Leon smiles kindly, the same smile that’s seen you throughout your life. The one he gave you when he first held you, the one he gave you when you fell off your bike, and he brushed the crumbly gravel off your knees and kissed the tender scrapes on both. When you graduated, and he held back tears but acted all tough about it, he smiled all the same.

“Hi, dad.” The one you give in return is meek, the apples of your cheeks refusing to raise upwards into your eye-line.

“Oh,” Dad is perceptive, he throws his jacket over the bannister, keys tucked into one of it’s unzipped pocket - they dangle haphazardly, and you’re sure he’ll forget about them and toss that jacket in the washing machine, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shrug Leon’s hand off of your shoulder when he takes the seat adjacent to you. It’s cruel, the expression on his face sours, your heart lurches. Making him upset is your farthest intention, you just don’t know how much skin to skin contact you can handle with him.

Nonetheless, it was the wrong move, ‘cause he shuffles closer, “Hey now, don’t push me out, what’s wrong?”

“Dad, I promise, nothing's up.” You aim to soothe him with your words, but his agitation grows, your discomfort is palpable - he tastes it on his tongue, it’s the blood in the back of his throat. There’s no getting past him. “Therapy was bad.” No harm in telling a lie or two.

“Therapy,” Leon waves his hand through a nonexistent cloud of smoke, “You don’t need that.”

Here we go. All you need is a hug from dad! A kiss from dad. And you’ll be all better, sweetheart.

“I do, dad.” You glare at him, he smooths his thumb over your wrinkled brow and your heart drops to your ass. Dad needs to stop touching you before you touch him back, that’s a silent threat, your fingers twitch to grab him, mould his soft flesh into the shape of your fingertips.

“I did a good job with you,” Leon states, “My dad—“

My dad hit me, my dad threw me through a glass table once, busted my ass and made me crawl through the shattered glass and then he set wild dogs on me - your grandma just watched - I been through all that and I don’t need to go to therapy. He says something along those lines, albeit less cinematically thrilling.

“You did a very good job with me,” You nod, reassure him in a maternal tone almost ‘cause all dads are children that need to be praised, “It’s not your fault, dad, I love you lots.” Well, it is, for raising you so well, maybe he raised you too well. Or maybe you’re just a bit sick in the head, or maybe it’s his fault for looking how he looks.

“Then you don’t need therapy,” He sinks back into his dent in the leather couch, “You just need a hug, bring it in, kid.”

No, no, no. You do your best to fend him off, all for his own sake, but he draws you close to his chest, smothers you by pushing your face right into the dip. He smells good, cologne gradually having worn off as the day progressed, the slightly tangy undertone of his sweat coming through.

“And a kiss.” He coos at you, pinches your cheek, clicks his tongue in an attempt to coax you.

God, no. Don’t kiss me. Don’t do that— Mwah! Smack bang on your forehead as he tips your chin upwards, blinking down at you with sticky toffee lashes. And you, stupidly, in your lovestruck haze, pull him in to place the most disgusting, sloppy kiss on his lips - one that does little to hide your ardour for dad.

Leon’s neck almost snaps with how fast he pulls back, then he stares at you open-mouthed, and you hate to say it, but you’d kiss his lips swollen again. A man of his age, especially your father, should not be pretty or doll-lipped, but he is and you hate it. He’s your hamartia of sorts.

“Sweetheart…” Dad shambles aimlessly through his words, umming and ahing.

“Oh, god, you totally think I’m a freak, right?” You take your hands off of his chest, where they had been firmly planted, giving him a real good squeeze without even realising. “Dad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it just came out, you were just really close to me and I got nervous.” Now you sound like him, a lack of conversational tact is exactly what you got from dad.

“No, it’s alright, it’s okay, sweetheart, just give dad a minute.” He pats your shoulder, then he stands up, about to march on forward to grab his keys and leave. You know your dad, so you take his wrist in your hand, beg him to face you.

“Dad… I’m sorry, can you look at me?” You add a ‘please’ in the most desperate tone you can manage, brows slanting downwards as your bottom lip trembles.

Leon struggles to do so, his arm flexes when he tenses, stiffening in your grip. He sits back down when you begin to sniffle, too lamb-hearted to sit through your fit of tears. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay.” Dad rubs your back, but he avoids moving his face close like he usually would, this is his cue to kiss the tears from your cheeks, but he doesn’t.

“It’s not, dad,” You hiccup, choking on an ugly sob that manifests into an even uglier yelp, “I didn’t mean to do that, I’m just really lonely.”

“Baby,” Leon’s voice is sweet like a glacé cherry, “I didn’t know you were feeling like that, I didn’t know you were lonely.”

You are, but that’s not why you kissed dad. You kissed dad out of your own free will, ‘cause you’re in love with him. “I am really lonely, dad, I don’t know what to do.” The snot and tears don’t bother him, he wipes it away with the back of his hand. You’re his baby, you know that. So if he can do that, why can’t he fuck you? It’s ugly in the same way, he’ll wipe his load off your stomach instead, or your ass if he wants to take you from the back.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can— we can fix that, I promise.” The only thing you need him to fix is the leak you’ve sprung, plug it up or whatever. “There’s no use cryin’ about it, alright? Dad doesn’t like seeing you cry.”

His guard drops, and you’re kissing him again, harder, till he’s breathless and confused and yet unable to push you off. ‘Cause dad is so weak-willed when it comes to you. If only you’d had the guts to get to him sooner. “I won’t cry… I won’t cry if you kiss me, dad, I promise.” It’s a shitty tactic, threats, making dad’s heart jump like that - gonna send him into cardiac arrest.

Leon hesitates, softens like butter when your hands come to fist the fabric of his shirt, “Okay, just, just a kiss, alright? And mom can’t find out ‘bout this.” He stammers, cupping your face in his big hands, his fingers trembling. “And… And just one, yeah?” His flimsy assertion of dominance has your lips curving into the slightest of smiles, dad’s cute.

“Just one.” You agree, his spiky lashes cast shadows on his face, he shuts his eyes tight as your lips ghost over his for a moment, then you take his face in your hands and press them together. Lip to lip. Heart to heart. You swing a leg over his, situating yourself in his lap. Leon’s eyes open, no longer bracing as he glances down at your spread thighs, then up at your face.

“What’s up?” Leon tries, it’s hard to miss the apprehensive edge to his tone, how he burrows backwards into the couch pillows, shoulders shrinking to get away from you. His kid.

He’s not moving. Not pushing you off, which he could easily do, not calling mom and telling her you need to be checked into a ward of some kind - with others akin to you. Would be like a slumber party really, getting to indulge in fantasies that haven’t left the confines of your sick little head. Dad is looking on ahead, glassy-eyed and sad. And you kind of get it now, what you’ve heard about dad being easy back when he was younger. Not easy, but soft. Pliant against his own will, even when he has the capacity to say no, you’ve given him plenty of chances to say no.

“Dad, I’m sorry, I’ll be quick.” That’s a promise, you’re worked up from therapy with the cleaner version of dad. “And I’m sorry, we don’t have to do this ever again.” Unless you want too is left unsaid. You hope the implications are clear enough, that he’s picking up what you’re putting down, but dad is slow in that sense. He’s a hands-on type of guy.

You give him a minute, dad blinks, and there’s no explicit refusal, so you lift up to wriggle out of your jeans. Dad’s come undone a little easier, he raises his hips when you ask him to do so, and he flinches when you unzip them - fingers coming into contact with the softness of his cock through the fabric of his boxers. Leon’s not hard. It’s a blow to your already crippled ego, then again you’ve heard mom talk about Viagra to him before - so maybe it’s not a ‘my kid is groping my dick’ issue, but more of an old age issue.

The tip is velvety on your skin when you tuck your fingers beneath the waistband to tug them down, with the way he’s reclined back in his seat, his dick flops onto his stomach. Heavy and stagnant, much like dad himself. Doesn’t spring up and whack you in the face like dicks tend to do in porn, doesn’t have a mind of its own, it just sits there awkwardly.

Leon closes his eyes, you notice how ragged his breathing is and wonder if he’s getting any enjoyment out of this, or if he’s two minutes away from flatlining. To comfort him, you stroke a hand over his cheek, fingers curling beneath his square jaw as your other hand curls around his flaccid cock. He flinches, and for the first time in your life, you see dad cry. And it turns you on. The last time was when you were born, you don’t remember it, for obvious reasons, but he reiterates it every birthday.

“Oh, dad,” Your brows knit together, “I didn’t… Please don’t cry, I really didn’t mean to upset you, dad. Gosh, I’m just, I just needed to do this dad— Can you speak to me, please? I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Leon’s voice wavers, his body is wracked with shivers, chills prickling his spine, “I want to make you happy.” You’re all he's got, you and mom are the only speck of normalcy in dad’s life and you’ve gone and ruined it. For reasons even your counsellor couldn’t process, reasons that are unfathomable to you. A prion disease so severe that even your therapist likely fears there’s no chance. “I’m sorry.” He says finally, and your stomach hurts.

“Dad, don’t say sorry, that’s stupid.” You lift your hips once more, spitting on your palm and smearing it over his dick has done little for lube, but he’s not all that big - and you’re dripping down your thighs, it’ll be an easy fit, ‘cause dad made you. Half of you is him, and that means he’ll be just right. “It’s not your fault.” You tell him, but you doubt it lifts the guilt from his shoulders, it weighs down his tender heart instead.

Dad doesn’t think that way. He blames everything on himself. Leon’s the one that raised you, he's the one that went wrong. You don’t know how else to tell him there’s something sick inside your head, and it’s infected every single part of you.

It’s hard to guide him into your hole, the tip bumps over your twitching clit a couple of times, up and down your slippery folds as you try to line him up. Leon’s face twists when you take him in, walls breached by the tip alone, you wonder if he��s relieved to find out you’re a virgin. You’ve been saving it for dad, didn’t know the opportunity would come so soon. Your cunt squelches when you take him to the hilt, squeezing around his shaft till he hardens inside of you. There we go, so dad does like you after all? Or is this a natural response? Or is he thinking of someone else, his eyes have been closed for an awfully long time.

“Dad, will you look at me, please?” That’s the second time you’ve asked so nicely and he obeys all the same, cracking open his eyes, foggy like stained glass, just as bright too.

Two hands come to rest on your torso, Leon’s keeping you at arms length. You want dad to let you in. The rocking off your hips elicits the slightest groan from his parted lips, you grind yourself into his lap, fat head leaking and jabbing at that spongy spot deep inside. See? Dad’s made for you. Dad knows you.

“Dad,” You whimper, clammy forehead sticking to his, the tip of your nose bumping his broad one, it’s romantic you think. In the same way A View from the Bridge is romantic - to you and you only. “I love you… I love you so much.” His hips jolt upwards, dad’s sensitive you suppose, he didn’t mean to do it ‘cause his face contorts with pure, unadulterated disgust.

Shakily, you take his bigger hand in yours, he’s limp in your grip. You jam his hand between your sweaty bodies, force him to rub them against your thrumming clit. Dad does it. ‘Cause he loves you, if you didn’t get that by now. His thumb rubs figure eights into your bud, the nimble touch, along with dad’s dick right where you want it, lodged deep inside your pussy - it tips you right over the edge.

Your thighs tremble, snapping shut around his hand, and his cock slips out. He’s only got a semi, or maybe he came earlier, but you don’t know much about dick specifics so you curl into his chest, and dad holds you tight even after you totally violated the poor guy.

“Should clean up ‘fore mom gets home.” Leon’s voice is unsteady, lilting up and down, all over the place. God, did you make dad cry again, you stupid bitch?

“Yeah,” You agree, scratching the back of your head ‘cause what do you even say after fucking your dad? Couldn’t even ask google that. “Dad, do you still like me?”

“I love you,” He answers instinctively, “I’ll love you no matter what you do to me, kid.”

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

[itsoutrageouss]

Angst eddie fic where the reader is new maybe they sit at the clubs table unintentionally, and eddie comes off as rude or pushy and unknowingly hurts the readers feelings getting them to avoid the whole table and the next day eddie apologizes after finding them in the woods crying-🍒

a/n: poor eddie would feel so bad after having hurt your feelings like that </3

words: 1k ish- idk bro

warnings: just angst, little unintentional mean!eddie, reader gets embarrassed/feels humiliated

damn prejudice - e. m.

damn prejudice series: part ii // part iii

—☕️

The cafeteria was huge- at least to you. Your old school didn’t even have one, just picnic tables outside, not to say groups and cliques weren’t something anyone bothered themselves with in such a small school.

Hawkins High was different. Albeit Hawkins not being a huge place it was definitely bigger than what you were used to, and you were overwhelmed to say the least.

That’s probably why you didn’t notice the matching shirts of everyone at the table you chose to join. You didn’t even give it second thought that maybe this was an exclusive group, that maybe social status was an actual thing here.

In general, you could be quite oblivious. There fell a tense silence over the table when you sat down, and all eyes of hellfire club turned to Eddie for a reaction. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you calmly like he was waiting for you to realize just where you had chosen to sit.

You on the other hand was just poking at your food, assessing the lunch menu if you will. It took you a minute or two to register the dead silence that befell only where you sat and not anywhere else.

That’s when you looked up, eyes scanning the people around you until they landed on the face right next to you at the end of the table; big, brown doe eyes that ogled you in a slightly cold manner. You felt your insides freeze along with his stare- how had you already managed to do something wrong?

“What do you think you’re doing?” His eyes narrowed as he slowly chewed his food in an over exaggerated manner. His tone wasn’t necessarily rude as much as it was filled with suspicion.

“Eating.. lunch?” You replied, more a question than an answer. Your breaths were shorter and faster than before, a sudden unwanted heat wrapping around your body in embarrassment. No one at the table dared say anything.

Usually Eddie was welcome to the newbies at Hawkins- he was known for collecting lost sheep. But someone as pretty as you couldn’t possibly be here by your own will; had the cheer squad sent you to mess with him? That had to be it

Well, he wasn’t gonna fucking fall for it.

“Yeahh, nice try,” he dragged out his words, twirling an apple in his hand. You got a feeling that he had a sense for the dramatics.

“I think you got better things to do than hang around here sweetheart. We bite,” he bit out into the air towards you, his teeth making a loud clank as they did, his hands gripping the table to lean over you. It made you jump backwards, nearly toppling over on your seat. Someone next to you chuckled; it was safe to say you felt humiliated.

Eddie laughed at you teasingly, which might have made your heart flutter under different circumstances, but now you only saw it as condescending- there was something cold in the expression he wore .

In eddies eyes he was being very just. You were new, had probably been hauled in by the cheer squad at first glance and now they had sent you on your first mission to be a true popular Hawkins high menace. Going after the freaks.

Your hands were shaking as you looked around. More unknown faces had turned to where you sat and either laughed meanly or glared at you. You didn’t feel welcome at all.

Quickly you scrambled off the bench and grabbed you lunch tray.

“That’s right, scurry off Princess,” Eddie said, feeling like he had won this little battle that was apparently all in his head. Your eyes were wide and glassy, and the milk on your tray fell to the ground with a thud due to you shaky hands.

Eddie raised his brows at that, suddenly unsure why you would be this nervous if his theory was right. Before he could ponder it, you were hurrying down the hall and out of the cafeteria- not to Jason’s table like he expected.

Shit, maybe you actually were just new and trying to make friends. Eddie would be the last person to reject anyone who felt like an outsider, especially someone as pretty as you.

He didn’t see you for the rest of the day though, still unsure wether or not his cruelty had simply been cruel or purposeful.

—☕️

Maybe you had just been incredibly naive but you did not expect to spend your second day at Hawkins high on the outskirt woods of the school— crying. You had avoided the hellfire club the remainder of yesterday and this morning, especially the boy who you found out to be named Eddie. The humiliation still crept up on you whenever someone glared at you in the halls, making your cheeks flush and palms sweaty.

You were never going to make any friends. The boy who you thought the coolest in the whole school had been mean to you and you had no idea how you were gonna last your whole senior year here. The slim, naked trees of the woods blurred together as hot tears fell down your cheeks, but you angrily wiped them away.

You were lost in thought when you heard rustling right ahead. You peered up nervously to see no one other than Eddie stepping into the little clearing at the picnic table.

After yesterday, when Jason had made fun of the fact that even Eddie rejected the new girl it became clear to him that he was all in the wrong. You were new and alone at had chosen his table to sit at- something that had never happened in hellfires history. The guilt had wrenched him from falling asleep last night and he had spent the whole morning trying to find you -at first he begged Dustin and Mike to apologise from him, since he was too nervous to do it himself- but he knew he had to be the one.

He felt the remorse once again twist in his heart when he saw your small figure curled together on the picnic bench, your tears staining the wood a darker shade. “Hey, uh,” he began, his hands out in front of him like he was trying to tame a wild animal. His tone was gentle and soft, very unlike yesterday.

“Your name’s y/n, right?” He asked with a small polite smile, to show you he wasn’t here to embarrass you again. You didn’t fall for it though, and clutched your knees tighter to your chest, merely giving him a small nod in return with a blank expression.

He sat down in front of you carefully, like any fast movement would make you run and hide.

“So now you wanna sit at the same table as me? Don’t you have better things to do?” It slipped out of you before you could stop it. It wasn’t like you to talk back but you were thoroughly blaming Eddie for your first day failure at this point.

“Yeah no, I uh- I deserve that” he snickered remorsefully. You only glared at him, waiting for whatever his purpose with you now was.

“Listen I’m really sorry about yesterday. I thought-“ he began, realising now how stupid he had been- especially when he saw the memory resurface in your eyes, now adorning fresh tears.

“I thought the basket team had sent you over to mock us or some shit. I didn’t realize you were being genuine, hanging out with the damned and all,” he huffed, trying to seem serious but light at the same time.

Your brows furrowed in question. “Why would you think that?” Your lower lip quivered and Eddie felt an urge to press his thumb against it to soothe you- he obviously didn’t, the boy barely knew you. He cursed himself for thinking like that when he was trying to apologise

“I don’t know. Cause you’re pretty-“ he cursed himself once again- way to go buddy. “anyways I’m the last person who should be carrying prejudice about anyone. I’m sorry for being mean to you, sweetheart.”

You looked at him again, those brown eyes big and pleading. He looked entirely different than yesterday, cheeks slightly flushed from blushing, eyes curious and lips quirked in a soft, nervous smile. He was quite endearing, you thought. And he called you pretty.

You wiped your eyes in a failed attempt to hide your crying. Eddie wasn’t even gonna touch on the fact that he made you cry your first week here- he felt awful.

“You’re welcome at hellfire anytime, I promise you.” His hand slightly reached over the table as a sort of olive branch, but he retracted it again in fear of looking stupid.

“Hellfire?” You asked, taking note of his hand now nervously tapping the surface of the wooden table.

“Yeah, y’know.. you didn’t see the t-shirts?” He asked with a teasing smile; but a kind one this time. You shook your head with a dry chuckle, rolling your eyes at you own obliviousness once again.

“We’re a DnD club. Some of us play music, too,” you listened intently to everything he said, your eyes as big and curious as his whenever he talked. How the hell had he managed to be mean to someone like you?

“I’ve played a little DnD at my old school. Have a guitar too,” you added softly, glad to have something in common with him. He lit up at your words.

“You’ll have to show me, one day. You could join the campaign I’m starting too, next week if you’d like?” He asked, still somehow nervous that you’d now reject him.

Instead you nodded enthusiastically, reaching for his hand and placing yours on top of it.

Maybe senior year wasn’t gonna be so bad, after all.

— next part ☕️

#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #Joseph Quinn #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn imagines #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things smut #damn prejudice

[drudyslut]

Idk if you can make this into a fic (if you can please do so) but I just wanted to share this thought: so it’s starting to get colder outside and the pogues suggest going in the hot tub but you don’t get and just sit on a chair nearby and then you’re offered a drink and you decline and then you’re offered some weed and decline and someone is like “y/n not going in the hot tub, not drinking, not smoking, you pregnant or something” in a joking tone but then you just smile at jj and everyone realizes that you are and you tell jj that you were gonna tell him tonight before you guys went to sleep.

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of alcohol and weed, jj fluff!🥰

loved this request, unsure how i feel about my execution of it, hopefully i did it justice, i loooove me some jj fluff 🥺🤍

“It’s cold out here, who wants to get in the hot tub?” you hear John B ask.

All of your friends had excitedly nodded at the idea, rushing inside to get themselves ready, no one noticing that you had remained seated. You crossed your arms, rubbing your hands up the sides of your arms as you waited on your friends to return.

JJ was the first to emerge back outside, his face pulled into a frown when he noticed you hadn’t moved from your spot.

“What’s wrong princess, don’t wanna join us in the Cat’s Ass?”

You giggle at the horrendous name he’d given the hot tub, shaking your head as you lift your head to meet his blue eyes.

“No i’m okay”

JJ frowns more, plopping in the chair beside you and placing a warm hand on your clothed thigh.

“Is somethin’ wrong?”

You give him a small smile, placing your hand on top of his large one.

“No ‘m fine, promise”

He nods his head, ultimately letting the subject go and hopping into the hot tub, all of your friends joining him shortly after.

-

“Y/N are you sure you don’t wanna join us?” Sarah asks, her arms tossed over the side of the tub.

“No i’m okay Sare, thank you though”

Your friends glanced around at one another, their eyes finally landing on JJ who just gives them a small shrug.

“I’m gonna go grab some beers, J, you still rollin’ up?” John B asks as he pulls himself from the tub, quickly wrapping a towel around himself.

“Yeah already got some rolled, we’ll light one up when you get back”

John B grins widely, giving a small nod and rushing into the chateau, reappearing minutes later with 6 beers in hand. He begins passing the beers out, slowly walking toward you last, offering you the final beer.

You awkwardly cough, shaking your head ‘no’. “ ‘M good JB, thank you though”

John B narrows his eyes, his head tilted slightly to the side, “What’s up with you Y/L/N? You’ve never been one to turn down a cold beer, or time in the hot tub”

You awkwardly laugh, unsure of what to say to that. You did have your reasons for declining everything so far, but you weren’t ready to speak on it, not until you talked to JJ first.

“I’m just not feeling the best” you lie, but it wasn’t a complete lie, you hadn’t been feeling like yourself lately.

“Well are you at least gonna smoke with us? That might help!” Kiara chimes in, the joint in her hand as she takes a small puff of the substance.

“No, I-I’m okay”

Your friends were beginning to make it very hard to keep your secret, offering you all the things they knew you loved but couldn’t partake in at the moment.

Pope chuckles, “What, are you pregnant or something? No hot tub, no beer, no weed”

His tone was joking, but the smile on your face and the soft look you’d given JJ was confirmation enough for everyone.

“Wait- You’re pregnant?” JJ asks, hopping up and out of the tub, rushing to your side quickly.

He drops to his knees, his arms flying around your waist as he rests his head softly on your stomach.

You run your fingers through his soft blond locks, “Yeah, I just found out today. I was gonna tell you before we went to bed tonight, but I guess now works too”

You hear the whoops and hollers from your friends, everyone rushing from the tub and surrounding you and JJ. You felt your eyes well up with tears, the happiness surrounding you making your heart swell.

JJ chokes out a laugh, his eyes filled with tears as well as he runs his hand over your belly, “My girl is having my baby”

You giggle, letting a tear fall from your eyes, “Yes, we’re having a baby, J”

JJ TAGLIST: @rafeism @ivy-34 @writingjjfics @always-reading @jesssssmaybank @harrys-humble-housewife @maybankspov @immyowndefender @jjmaybankswifes-blog @wetbitchlibrary @lizcameron @xprloki @moremaybank @alexisbaumann2004 @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @thewitchesofart @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @r1vrsefx @mel119g @rafetopia @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @fayerite @drewstarkeyslut @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols

jj master list | requests | taglist form

#jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #obx jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank brainrot #jj fic #jj fluff #tw pregnancy #obx

[tzuberry]

zerobaseone maknae line as tropes / cliches ૮ • ﻌ - ა

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, slight angst in ricky’s and gunwook’s, bulletpoint and written

cw getting stood up, mention of lipstick use in ricky’s ⠀⠀⠀wc 738 696 604 802 respectively (2840 in total)⠀⠀⠀reading time 22 min

note title kinda misleading TBH... havent written on tumblr in a while, so this is a new account and my first post! im hoping this doesnt flop :( i loved writing this so much, so if it flops i might just repost it ... idk.. likes and reblogs are appreciated !!! (only if u want to ofc 🤞🏻)

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ricky 리키

blind date... but you got stood up, and ricky is your best friend

it’s not that you really wanted to go on a date, it’s that your friend assured you this was the perfect guy for you

and your friend swore, cross their heart, that you would not regret letting them set you up

but now you’re sitting at a table alone, with pitiful looks being thrown your way by the restaurant staff and the other groups of people around you and it’s clear to you; you do regret it, and this is the last time you’ll let anyone other than yourself handle your love life

after compulsorily buying a meal for yourself so as to not leave the place empty handed, you slowly chew on your food, wondering where it went wrong

did he see a picture of you and decided that was it? did he hear a story about you that was just unflattering? what was it about you that made them turn around and away from the restaurant—away from you?

in the midst of all this, your phone emits a ding! sound. you’re not doing anything important, so you see it fit to check the notification

ricky 😡🐱: how’s your date going?

terribly. but that’s a little embarrassing to admit, especially to ricky...

yn: good! i’ll text you later

you lay your phone down on the table and pick up your utensils once again to finish your meal, but a shadow casting over your plate interrupts you

“why are you alone, then?”

When you follow the voice (and the shadow), Ricky is standing next to your table, his phone in hand with the screen open on your text thread. He turns it off with a swift click of the power button, and he takes the space on the other side of the table where your date should have been.

You don’t know how to respond. You’re embarrassed; a second ago, you were alone at a restaurant filled with people, and now, your best friend has caught you lying to him about being at said restaurant alone.

“What happened?” Ricky asks as his arm makes its way across the table to your glass of water. He lifts it to his lips, taking a sip and placing it back down. He looks genuinely concerned, maybe even a little pissed, but all you can focus on is how your lipstick stain is on the rim of the cup, and how he drank from that same spot.

You shake your head. “I, um,” you pause, pursing your lips and trying to find a good enough (fake) reason. “Nothing. I didn’t like him, and he said he had other plans, so I just let him go.”

Ricky furrows his eyebrows at that. It’s a very visible sign of incredulity; he doesn’t believe your lie. Nevertheless, he simply shrugs it off. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you reply, still dealing with the aftereffects of being stood up. You poke your fork at the food before you; a lost appetite and an expensive meal don’t mix well.

Ricky leans forward, letting his forearms rest on the surface of the table. He’s looking at you so seriously, analyzing your every move. “Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, attempting to come off as teasing, but he only waves you off. “I just want to look at you.”

You feel yourself practically melt under his gaze, but you ignore it. This is Ricky, your best friend... nothing more. Right. This is Ricky—you should tell him the truth about why you’re alone.

“He didn’t come,” you admit. “I wasn’t super excited about this date, but I thought– I thought I would at least go on a date. This is... nothing. I was here by myself before you got here.”

There’s a pained glint in his eyes. Is he feeling sorry for you? Maybe you do deserve all the pity you’ve gotten today. He gulps, keeping eye contact with you while biting on a small portion of his bottom lip.

After a while, he sighs. “Come on.”

Ricky begins to stand up, stuffing his phone into his pocket before you hold him back by the wrist. “What?” you question.

“We’ll go do something else,” he says with a bob of his head. Your grasp on his wrist somehow turns into your hands being interlocked. “Let me take you on a date. I’ve always wanted to, and I promise I won’t screw it up.”

gyuvin 규빈

boy next door who you’ve always had feelings for, you just never thought of him liking you back

you’ve always liked kim gyuvin

from the moment his family moved in next to your house, with his bedroom parallel to yours

you could see everything through his window; who he was, what his hobbies were, what he admired, and how he acted with his friends

this all made him seem... unattainable. you felt like you were the audience for a show, and gyuvin was the actor

it didn’t help that you went to the same school, and to further that, he was immensely popular

it was obvious. how could you expect that someone like him wouldn’t be? he’s tall, cute, extroverted, funny and kind—the entire package, if you would say so yourself

you weren’t totally unpopular. you had your fair share of friends, a few social circles that you hung out with. but gyuvin seemed too out of reach for you, even if he was your neighbor

the singular interaction you’ve had was when he came over to ask for sugar. it went like this: “hi!” “hi?” “i was baking, and i kind of ran out of brown sugar. do you maybe... uh...” “oh, sugar? wait, i think i do, hold on.”

it was that awkward. so when your mother told you she became new friends with gyuvin’s mom and wanted to have dinner at their house as a family, you freaked

but it’s not like you can say no, so you found yourself at the kims’ door a few days later

“Hi! You must be [Name]. I’ve seen you around, and I’ve heard about you from Gyuvin, but you’re much prettier up close! I know who you get your looks from,” Mrs Kim says, winking at your mother.

“You’re too kind, your son is very polite, and...”

You tune their conversation out—did she say she’s heard about you from Gyuvin? Why would he be talking about you?

Your mom finishes it (whatever she was talking about) off with, “They’d be perfect together, don’t you think?” Mrs Kim nods vigorously, then pats you twice on the shoulder. “[Name], maybe you would want to go spend some time with Gyuvin first? I’m afraid dinner isn’t ready, there’s still a long way... I’ll call you both down when it is. He’s up in his room.”

You bow, excusing yourself and obligingly treading up the stairs. This is the second time you’re about to interact with him—you better not mess up.

On the final step of the staircase, you start to hear talking from one of the bedrooms. From where you stand, it’s not clear where its origin is, and so you try to listen for the voice. It leads you to a slightly open door, and holy shit—this is Gyuvin’s door.

“They’re coming over today, and, ugh, I don’t know,” he rants. Is that about you? It has to be. Who else is coming over? You move closer to the door frame, nearly peeking your head in. “I just– I don’t know how to talk to them! Last time, I went over to ask if they wanted to hang out and...” he trails off, the regret evident in his tone. “I asked for sugar. To bake.” Oh my god. This is about you.

You take another step, risking the possibility of the door creaking. “I don’t even bake! I came home with sugar and my mom asked why and I just said I found some on the street.” He sighs, exasperated. You inch even closer, toying with the chances of him catching you eavesdropping, when... creak. At the same time, Gyuvin’s rant is cut short. “Gunwook, you have to help me, I can’t be an idiot in front of them–”

His head snaps towards the door, where you are, standing and staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly hangs up, bidding Gunwook a hushed goodbye through the microphone. “How much of that did you hear?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, flattered and shy at the same time. “I think... all of it.”

Gyuvin’s hand raises to cup his nape, and he gives you the most endearing yet bashful smile. “Would you, maybe, um, wanna hang out sometime? With me, of course...”

gunwook 건욱

friends to lovers, and everyone is sure you both like each other but all you do is deny it

you know gunwook like the back of your hand

although you met a little over a year ago, he quickly became a constant in your life, especially because you saw him everyday at school

he would wait outside your class, eat lunch with you, walk you home (and sometimes to school in the mornings), help you with homework even though he’s always busy with all the extracurriculars he participates in, and additionally schedules weekly study sessions together

this led countless people to think you were dating, even though you’re really not

you deny it, making a gesture with your hands indicating the negative. “we’re just friends, he would never be my boyfriend,” you laugh it off. gunwook tenses up, and the corners of his lips suddenly become downturned. “yeah, we’re just friends...” he agrees, sounding somewhat unsure

that’s what happens every single time someone mistakes you for a couple. you’re the first to refuse that assumption, while gunwook just follows your lead

you thought, “hey, maybe he’s just shy around the topic of dating.” and so you don’t push it, or even ask about what he thinks of the rumors surrounding you two

at this week’s study session, which he scheduled at his house, he can’t focus

repeatedly tapping his pen and running his fingers through his hair—doing anything but his homework, really—he doesn’t even spare you a glance

and so you take the responsibility upon yourself to ask. “is something bothering you?”

Gunwook sighs, looking as if he’s internally debating the pros and cons of unloading his baggage onto you. His eyes dart around his room, from the door, to the desk, to the bed, and finally to you, before he swipes his tongue between his lips and lets out a breath. “Can I ask you something?”

You drop your pen. Why does he seem so conflicted?

Readjusting your position on the bed to face him, you lean closer to Gunwook as you shove your school books and other materials out of the way. “You can ask me anything,” you say, determined to comfort your friend.

He visibly hesitates, biting his bottom lip. He’s still not looking at you, and not so much as a second is allotted for one glimpse. “Do you...” he pauses, trying to muster the courage. “Do you really think of me as just a friend?”

The question almost makes your jaw drop to the floor. What does he mean by that? Sure, you did have a short-lived crush on him when you first got acquainted, but it faded instantaneously. You didn’t know you could be anything more—you thought you had no chance with a guy like him, so your feelings were trivial to you.

Tilting your head, you reply, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Gunwook shrugs, also following your actions and pushing all his textbooks away. “I guess– oh my god, this sounds stupid, but,” he groans, “I’ve liked you since last year, since before we even became friends. And whenever someone asks if I’m your boyfriend, you just– you immediately say no.”

He... likes you? You’re dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth actually agape this time. You’re certain your cheeks are red, judging from the heat you feel rush up to your face.

At your silence, he continues. “I know it’s stupid. I didn’t just become friends with you because I like you, it’s more than that, but everytime you say I could never be your boyfriend or something like that, I hate it.

“I’ve liked you for so long, and please answer me,” he sounds breathless as he speaks, “Can I... can we be anything more?”

yujin 유진

first love / teenage crush

you didn’t know when you started liking yujin, you just did

maybe it was when you would watch him play soccer after school, with him alone on the field practicing and you doing your homework on the bleachers

or maybe it was when he bought you a drink that one time. you were thirsty after running to school because you were on the verge of getting an offense on your permanent record if you were late one more time

clicking a few buttons on the vending machine, the solace provided by strawberry milk was nearly yours—until you open your wallet to find that there’s only a thousand won inside

“maybe next time,” you think, “i don’t need to drink anything right now.”

but before you can leave, someone sneaks their two thousand into the slot for you, and the milk drops down into the small metal box below for you to claim

when you turn around, you’re met with yujin

and then a switch flipped. since then, you’ve noticed han yujin wherever you went

you stumbled onto the soccer field on a hot day when you were assigned cleaning duty, and you found that he was the only one there

deciding to repay the favor, after spectating him practicing for a while, you go to buy a drink for him too when you buy your own

you leave it next to his bag with a note, saying: “you’re really good! i bought this for you, make sure to get some rest ♡”

and so watching him practice while doing your homework became a regular occurrence for you, even if you weren’t 100% watching all the time. it was like background music, and your interest in him (caused by him buying you milk) became a full blown crush

Following the steps of your daily routine, you hurriedly arrange your books in your backpack, ready to go see Yujin—the best part of your day—when your teacher stops you at the door.

“[Name], I’d like to talk to you about tutoring someone,” she says, a soft smile plastered on her face as if she wasn’t actively ruining your day. “You’re one of my best students, and a classmate of yours really needs help.”

As hard as you tried to get away, you got stuck in the classroom for the rest of the afternoon, discussing possible tutoring times and the topic outlines where your “classmate” needed further explanation. Not only were you annoyed you missed some time to see Yujin, but when you got to the field, hoping he would still be practicing late into the night, he was gone.

Although you were displeased at the thought of having to tutor your male classmate every day of the school week, you had no choice. In addition, he was at least paying you, so it wasn’t like your hard work was for nothing—just that now, you would have to sacrifice your time with the boy you like.

You started to tutor him after school, and going to see Yujin became a rare possibility. Your tutoring was yielding good results, however, and your tutee received high marks on almost all tests after being taken under your wing.

He runs up to you, showing you his paper with a big red ninety-eight in the corner; he got an even higher grade than you did. “[Name]! Thank you, look at this! I’ve never gotten a grade this high!” You nod, but everything he’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Since he technically doesn’t need your help anymore, maybe you could go watch Yujin today.

You cancel your session for the day, with permission from your advising teacher. After two and a half weeks, you’re finally back at the field—but this time, he’s the one who isn’t here. You let out a deep breath, deciding to power through and do your homework like normal.

You’re in the middle of trigonometry when a cool sensation is pressed up against your cheek, water beginning to drip down your skin. Flicking your head towards the perpetrator, you discover it to be Yujin holding a strawberry milk for you. He giggles, handing you the small box and sitting down beside you. “Here. I haven’t, um, seen you in a while. Why’s that?”

You take it from him, detaching the straw from the back of the box and poking it through the designated hole. “Yeah,” you say, sipping on the milk for a few seconds after. “I started to tutor Jiwon, so I couldn’t come the last few weeks.”

“Oh, you must be busy, then. Nevermind,” he mutters, shaking his head. “No, what is it? You can’t just say nevermind.” You scoff, a teasing grin making its way onto your face.

Yujin gulps. “Will you, uh... come to my game this weekend?”

#zb1 imagines #zb1 reactions #zb1 scenarios #zb1 oneshots #zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 yujin #zb1 gunwook #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 ricky #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 fics #zerobaseone oneshots #zerobaseone fics #zb1 drabbles #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseone scenarios #han yujin #park gunwook #shen ricky #kim gyuvin #han yujin imagines #ricky imagines #gyuvin imagines #gunwook imagines

[sxcret-garden]

Wooyoung ღ NSFW Alphabet [M]

ღ Ateez - NSFW Alphabets ღ Ateez Wooyoung x gn!reader ღ words: ~2.6k ღ genre: smut ღ warnings: heavy power dynamics in some parts (especially with sub!Woo)

A = Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

This hugely depends on what kind of sex you had. Overall he’s definitely caring, looks after you, asks if you feel okay and how you liked it. If he took on the more dominant role he’s definitely gonna rub your back, cuddle with you, get you some water, help you clean up,... there’s literally nothing he doesn’t think of. Will be ESPECIALLY cuddly if he teased you a lot during. But if it’s the other way around and you took on the more dominant role he’s gonna snuggle up to you like a cat. He will still take care of you eventually, but he needs to hear what a good boy he was first.

B = Body part (his favorite body part of his partner)

I really think he’s a boobs type of guy and also a bit of a perv, so I can’t not say your chest. Like… if you have breasts he loooves playing with them, squeezing them in his hands, just the feel of them, y’know? Huge fan of nipple play too, so you can expect him to give them a lot of attention. And if you don’t have breasts then I think the answer is still chest!! Idk, there’s just something about him marking up that part of you or resting his hand there as he makes out with you that feels so good to him. Plus, what better place to rest his head than your chest where he can feel your slowly calming heartbeat afterwards?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

He loves your taste and loves having you watch as he licks your juices off his lips after giving you head. Definitely the type to kiss you as the taste is still present on his tongue. As for where he prefers to cum… he’s not too picky about that. However, he finds it insanely hot if you get on top of him, maybe pinning him against the bed or a wall, and you tease him so good that he can’t but help cum right then and there in his pants. Will definitely blush a little at his failure to keep his composure, and if you tease him about it (or maybe even humiliate him 👀) you can be sure this guy will submit to you immediately and be hard again in no time.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret or secret desire of his)

Secretly he wants to try being under your command for a day or maybe even longer. Of course that includes any sexual acts you might wish for, whenever you tell him to, but it’s not just about sex for him. Wants to be ordered around by you and please you, do anything you ask of him, and afterwards receive praise or a punishment - whichever you see fit. And in between he’s going to be your little toy who’ll do anything you want.

E = Experience (how experienced is he?)

I think he certainly has some experience, maybe more, maybe less than what you’d think. But what I’m sure of is that he knows himself very well, and even if he has less experience, communication won’t be a problem for him, so it’s easy to figure out what works for the both of you either way.

F = Favorite position 

You on top of him, preferably with you being in control. Don’t get me wrong, I think he’s a total switch, but the thing he’ll keep wanting to come back to is simply you sitting on top of him, deciding on what pace you’re going at and controlling when he cums. He’ll go crazy if you keep edging him again and again until it gets painful, but even then all he’s going to do is hiss curses through gritted teeth and beg and at the same time he’ll enjoy you making him your little toy so much that most of the time he isn’t even going to think about taking matters into his own hands and finally getting that release he so desperately craves. Though such times do exist, and then he surely is ready to fight you for dominance no matter what…

G = Goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous?)

Sex with Wooyoung is definitely going to include laughter. It’d feel off to him to always stay completely serious throughout. Whether he’s chuckling to himself as he teases you, or laughs because one of you was being clumsy or something that you two imagined to feel good didn’t quite work out as well as it did in your heads - he knows how to lighten the mood and sometimes appreciates you doing it as well!

H = Headspace (how much does he think about it/you during the day? how elaborate are his fantasies?)

I think he has sexual thoughts less often than you’d expect him to. But when he does they’re usually deliberate, when he really has the time to make up elaborate scenarios. The type of guy who knows it’ll feel even better when he thinks about it until he really is painfully horny, and gets off to whatever thoughts are up in his head only when he can’t take it anymore. If he has a partner they’re definitely going to be the nr 1 person to appear in his fantasies, though from time to time he might think about someone else too.

I = Intimacy (how passionate or romantic is he?)

Very passionate at all times!! Can be very romantic too if it fits the mood, and won’t find it too cheesy at all to prepare the bedroom with candles and rose petals and all that stuff 🥺 though this won’t be the standard, but from the way he always looks at you with adoration in his eyes no matter what you’re doing, I’d say he is fairly romantic!! 

J = Jack off (how does he masturbate and how often?)

Pretty much every day, mostly out of habit and to briefly destress in the shower after a long day. Though sometimes, when he has the time, he’ll spend quite a while masturbating in his room (oftentimes while fantasizing, as described above 👀)

K = Kink (one of his kinks)

How could I not talk about his very apparent degradation kink here!! (Very uncreative, I know lol but come on!!) It does things to him to say the least when he gets pushed around a bit. I’d even go as far as to say he’s into being humiliated, like you making fun of him for cumming so fast, or teasing him about what a little obedient slut he is when it takes you no time at all to make him submit to you. Might start giggling and blushing right then and there, and will enjoy it even more if you punish him for that reaction. He’ll be painfully hard in no time, and at the same time he just can’t stop pushing your limits, until you start to manhandle him. (And even if he’s a lot stronger than you, this guy will simply play along and let you do to him whatever you want.)

L = Location (favorite places to do it)

Pretty much anywhere if y’all are horny enough djbdndndd he won’t shy away from semi-public sex, though he probably wouldn’t try to sneakily get you off with other people in the room (he’d certainly still tease you though). The bed, the couch, someone else’s bed, against a wall, the kitchen counter, a public bathroom,... anything goes so long as he gets to fuck you.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

Your reactions, your voice, your praises, even you pushing him around a bit… any affirmation is enough for him to keep going, and once he’s caught a glimpse of what he can do to you, he’ll get even more curious and want to find out even more about you! And even if the day comes where he’s seen everything, he’ll just want it all over again, so really it’s very easy to get him going and to keep him going.

N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Really he’s open to most things, but one thing he certainly won’t do is using sex as a distraction or as a way to fuck out your feelings before having talked about it. He wants you two to always be transparent with each other, as he would never judge you for anything and he wants a partner where he feels that they won’t either. Angry sex or anything similar is totally okay with him, so long as both parties know what’s going on emotionally!!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves giving and receiving equally, so he’s definitely going to suggest 69 sometimes! Is a big fan of turning it into a game of who can make the other cum fastest, or of who can make the other feel so good that they lose focus and have to stop pleasuring the other. However, he also enjoys simply taking turns, because he loves watching your reactions and hearing you praising him about how well he’s doing. Plus, sometimes he really just wants to lean back and enjoy as you suck him off too.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s more on the fast and rough side, but can do slow and sensual too. Especially when y’all are just having sweet vanilla sex he’ll be so soft and caring with you 🥺 and yet he’ll keep a slow pace until you start begging him for more, focusing entirely on your pleasure as he makes sure to help you build up your orgasm slowly, so he could make sure your high shakes your whole body when it finally does come crashing down on you.

Q = Quickie (his opinions on quickies?)

A big fan tbh! Though it’s not a rare occurrence for something that was supposed to be only a quickie to turn into well over an hour of sex so cjbdndbdnxnx

R = Risk (does he like to experiment or take risks?)

He’s open to trying out pretty much anything, especially if it’s something you bring up to him. Will usually not find it weird, even when it’s something that would seem weird to others or that a lot of people shy away from. Sure, there are some things he won’t be into, but most of the time he’ll be open to at least try! As for risk taking - as I said, semi-public is definitely something he’d be open to, but he will make damn sure you two don’t get caught.

S = Stamina (how long does he last?)

Not as long as he’d like lol. However, when he really feels himself running out of energy but both of you still want to keep going, he’ll simply suggest taking a bit of a rest with some cuddles, and then eventually you’re gonna start lazily getting each other off again. You’ll either keep going for another round or two, or you’ll agree that you really are all out of energy and you can just keep cuddling!

T = Toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

I think he’d like the idea of using toys while having sex with you! A vibrator, a cockring, or maybe even handcuffs - if it enhances the pleasure for you, him, or both of you, he’s all for it!

U = Unfair (how much he likes to tease)

Teases A LOT. I don’t think I need to say much here. He’s a tease in- and outside of the bedroom, he just can’t help himself :’)

V = Volume (how loud or vocal is he? what does he sound like?)

He’s pretty vocal I’d say!! Definitely talks a lot and is super into dirty talk especially - but if you’re only just starting to have sex and getting to know each other’s bodies, or if he’s with someone inexperienced, he’ll definitely communicate a lot too and ask what feels good and what doesn’t, nudges you in the right direction, etcetc. Lots of moans and groans and other noises that tell you he likes what you’re doing especially when you’re pleasuring him, or when he’s coming close. And don’t get me started on the fucked out and exhausted but at the same time sweet tone in his voice afterwards, as he tells you how amazing you were.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

“Ahh…” Wooyoung lets out a pained noise, almost a whine, as you push him into the mattress with his hands pinned above his head. You can see his muscles dancing under his skin, yet he doesn’t put any strength at all into a rather pathetic attempt to free himself. You’ve ceased your movements on top of him, edging him for the third time now, and you can tell he’s slowly losing his composure, a drop of sweat on his forehead, and his eyes shut tightly in a desperate expression. Still, he doesn’t do anything to resist. He doesn’t free himself - which he undoubtedly could - and he doesn’t flip your positions around to take over control. He barely even begs. Of course he does, but what falls from his lips the most are praises about how good you make him feel, how beautiful you are, and sometimes a “can’t take it anymore”. And that’s your cue to stop, to let him rest while his chest rises and sinks as he breathes heavily, waiting until you can start riding him again, not yet knowing yourself whether you’ll let him cum this time, or if you want to keep playing with him. 

“Woo…” you breathe out, leaning in to scatter a trail of sloppy kisses up his sternum. “Such a good boy for me…” The way he looks at you when he opens his eyes makes your heart swell. There’s still so much warmth in his gaze, and so much desire too. He doesn’t care if you keep teasing him like this or if you finally grant him that release he so desperately needs - all he cares about is you making him feel good, one way or the other. And so you press a kiss to his lips, before slowly starting to roll your hips again.

X = (X) as a mark (does he like marking you/being marked? where?)

He enjoys marking his partner, but loves being marked up even more! If you set any rules like no marks where it’s hard to cover, he will absolutely annoy you by pretending as if he was trying to give you a hickey there, but he’ll never do it for real (unless maybe he’s drunk and goes a little overboard kalsjdfks). Instead he loves marking your chest especially, but the inside of your thighs and your hips are close seconds! As for him, he really doesn’t mind where you put your mark on him. Couldn’t care less if it’s somewhere that’s hard to cover - quite the opposite actually. He loves the thrill of knowing he’ll be in trouble the next day because of you sucking a mark into the skin on the side of his throat. He does see it as a way to mark you as his and vice versa, but it’s not among the most important parts about sex with you for him.

Y = Yearning (how high is his sex drive?)

Average I’d say? He doesn’t need sex every day, though he wouldn’t mind! He certainly won’t say no if it’s something you want, but for him he’d be perfectly satisfied with only a few times a week, when you two really have the capacity to take your time with it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterwards)

Tbh he can fall asleep fairly quickly afterwards. However, he will always make sure to stay awake for a good amount of aftercare and some cuddles. Even when he’s spent and tired he doesn’t want to fall asleep on you immediately.

#ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #smut

[archangeldyke-all]

Something with like cellmate prisoner!sevika?! 😭😭😭 idk I just think like her being all dangerous and powerful, having a shit ton of friends but like selectively, no one messing with her maybe even hating how just mean she is. And then comes in reader and yk. I’d love if the story was smutty but u can chose ofc 🫦

i love this so much

men and minors dni

living in zaun is shit. but the one thing that's always kept you and a majority of your fellow citizens in line, was the ever-looming presence of stillwater prison just a few miles away. you've watched countless people enter those prison walls. you know very few who ever came back out.

and now, through a series of unfortunate events that lead to you assaulting an undercover enforcer, you're going to find out first hand just how horrible stillwater really is.

you don't think you've ever been so nervous in your life as the enforcer guides you-- restrained and already hating the itchy fabric of your new life-long uniform--down a long, long hall of cells.

he's chewing a wad of bubblegum, casually, like you aren't about to piss yourself with nerves. "listen kid." he says, looking you up and down. "i read your file. seems like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." he says, shrugging. "no prior arrests, clean record-- honestly i'm surprised they sent you here, but i guess you did break marcus' nose." the enforcer chuckles here.

"you know that asshole?" you ask. the man guiding you snorts.

"'s my boss." he mumbles. beside you, a prisoner lunges at the bars of their cell, screaming at you. you jump, and the guard laughs. "as i was sayin'-- you seem like a real peach. like you'd be a good influence on some of our... rougher prisoners." he mumbles.

dread starts to curl in your stomach. you have a pretty good idea of where this conversation is headed, and you don't like the outcome. you just hope you aren't cellmates with someone real bad: like genie the counter-fitter who got caught two years ago; esmee the weapons expert who successfully set an entire square block of piltover's wealthiest neighborhood ablaze; or, god forbid, sevika.

she'd been caught just weeks ago, smuggling an entire airship's worth of shimmer into piltover's loading docks. it was big fucking news.

sevika's a big fucking deal.

and you want absolutely nothing to do with her.

which is why, of course, the guard pulls you to a stop right outside of the only cell with a light on, the low, dim glow of a reading lamp and the quick flickering light of a lighter. you feel like you're gonna barf.

sitting in the shadows of the cell, puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette, sits sevika, silco's second in command.

if he's the eye of zaun, she's the arm. he might be watching-- but she's doing. she's nothing but bad news; everything you've tried your best to avoid while living in the undercity.

well, look how well that turned out for you.

"sevika, meet your new cellmate." the enforcer calls out. a pair of silver eyes snap up from her book and lock on yours. you shiver.

"fucks' wrong with her?" she mumbles. you gulp.

"nervous, i'd assume. 's her first-offense." the guard says. he shoves you into the cell and you jump as the bars slam shut behind you. "you ladies have fun." he says, before turning and walking away, the smacks of his gum echoing behind him.

sevika inspects you from her chair.

"how'd you fuck up so bad you ended up in a cell with me from your first offense?" she asks, seemingly intrigued.

"punched an undercover enforcer." you whisper. sevika's eyebrow hitches up, a little amused.

"yeah?"

"think his name was marcus, or something." you mumble. she sputters.

"ha! really!?" she asks, a little smile growing on her face. you nod. she takes a drag off her cigarette, then points at the bunk beds. "i get bottom. don't go thinkin' 'cause we're cellmates it means you get to touch my shit. i got people outside pullin' big favors for met to get shit like this." she gestures to her cigarettes and lamp. you nod. "don't look so nervous. i won't bite unless you piss me off."

you try to stop shivering. you don't succeed. "s-sorry."

she studies you for a moment, her smile growing as she does. though she's no longer armed with shimmer, her arm's still in perfect working condition, five little daggers gently tapping on the table top as her eyes dart across you. "you from the lanes?" she asks. you nod. she snorts. "you know who i am?" she asks. you nod again. she chuckles, then stands. she approaches you, circling around you like you're prey, then chuckling and leaning back against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "you scared'a me?" she asks.

"shouldn't i be?" you choke out.

it seems to be the right answer. sevika laughs, then sits back down at her table, picking her book back up, chuckling intermittently for minutes after.

she's not a bad roommate. she's surprisingly tidy, always quiet, her nose usually buried in a book. she smokes like a fucking chimney, and you've come to find she gets her tobacco-- and sometimes a bit of weed-- from one of the guards every tuesday night.

she's got special privileges among most of the guards. they're always sneaking her books and flasks, letting her get away without cell-searches, letting her read past lights out and have lighters and screwdrivers and other dangerous, weapon-like tools.

you, on the other hand, do not have these privileges. and, keeping in line with sevika's one and only rule, you don't touch her shit. all of this means that while sevika smokes and works on her arm and reads and works out, you spend your time just... sitting on the top bunk. watching her.

sometimes, during open cell time, she gets visitors. you're surprised that none of these visits end in shady dealings-- sevika doesn't seem to need to trade her stash of goods for anything. most of her visits are quick, and most end the same way: a small scrap of paper being shoved in sevika's hand.

she burns the scraps after she reads whatever's on them.

she's... pleasant, sometimes. it's rare, but it happens. one day, you'd forgotten to make your bed before you went to breakfast. you returned to find it neatly made, and when you thanked her for helping you avoid trouble with the guards, she had just waved it off. "don' get used to it. i won't always be here to fix your mistakes."

once, a fight broke out while you were in the showers. you were sent back to your cell soaking wet-- your hair still lathered in shampoo. she had chuckled, called you a "wet rat", and helped you rinse your hair out in the tiny sink in your cell.

and... she's kinda pretty. it occurred to you one evening while the two of you were partaking in your nightly routine: sevika reading in her chair while you study her, pretending to sleep. she'd glanced up at you and whispered. "why're you always lookin' at me?"

you shrugged, then nearly choked on your tongue when 'you're pretty' almost slipped out of your mouth. "uh... i got nothing else to look at." you'd ended up saying. she seemed to accept this.

"you don't have any prison girlfriends?" you ask. sevika's in a particularly jovial mood today: the note she'd been delivered earlier in the afternoon must've had great news. she's decided to share her joint with you. the question slipped out the second you took your first puff-- your tolerance astronomically low from being without for so long.

sevika laughs. "nah."

"but..." you cut yourself off before you get yourself in trouble, biting your lip. sevika chuckles, then nudges your leg.

"y' can say it." she says. you smile at her, then speak.

"it's just... i had a few friends who work at babette's." you say. "i figured you'd have as much of a reputation here as you do there."

she takes a second, tilting her neck side to side as it cracks, then sighing. "i got shit to do in here." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, biting your lip again, and she chuckles. "say it." she demands again.

"you just read all day." you laugh. sevika nods.

"i'm... working." she says. you just nod along, pretending you understand what she's alluding to.

it happens in the strangest way but you and sevika start to become... friends.

she sits alone at lunch, and you sit alone too, on the oppisite side of the cafeteria. but you're so used to looking at sevika, that you find yourself watching her even when there are much more entertaining things to look at, like the handful of fights that break out every meal.

you notice she loves the jello cups you guys get once a week. so you pocket yours and toss it at her later that night. the way she smiles lights up the room even brighter than her tiny lamp. you make it a habit.

she starts loaning you her books, finds you a crate to sit on by her table while you guys read together at night.

and when sevika gets jumped in the middle of the night-- you don't even question it before you jump out of your bunk, grab sevika's screwdriver where she left it on the table, and start swinging in the dark, blindly.

"what the fuck?" someone squawks when you manage to stab something in the dark.

"what?" sevika whispers in the dark.

"sevika, your bunkmate fucking stabbed me!" her attacker's voice rings out.

a light flicks on. you cringe at the sudden brightness, then blink in confusion as sevika and a guard with a screwdriver sticking out of their shoulder stare at you.

sevika's grinning. the guard is scowling. you hold your hands up in shaky fists, preparing for a fight. sevika chuckles.

"relax, sweetheart." she says, swinging her arm around you and tugging you into her side. "ran's a friend." she whispers into your ear. you blink at the bleeding guard, then back at sevika.

"so, what, we're taking your girlfriend with us now?" the guard-- ran-- asks. sevika looks at her friend, then looks at you, a calculating look in her eye. she smirks, shrugs, then looks back at the guard.

"she threw herself between me and a uniform-- can't just throw that kinda loyalty out, now can i?" she asks, smiling.

you don't know what's happening. you're about to ask-- when suddenly you black out.

the first thing that comes back to you is your sense of hearing.

voices.

"sevika, fuck, you can't just throw a wrench in the plan like this--"

"i can do whatever the fuck i want--"

"on the night of the breakout?! no heads up!?"

"do i need to remind you which one of us is second in command, here?!"

"...fuck. c'mon, help me load her in the van."

the next thing is your sense of touch. you're laying on the rumbling cold steel of a van floor-- currently in motion.

you're shivering, but then something warm and wool and smelling like cigars is draped over you.

you're head keeps bumping uncomfortably with every crack in the road. someone gently picks your head up and puts it in their warm nap, a hand coming down to scratch your scalp.

your voice comes next. "mmmh?"

"it's okay." sevika's voice comes. you groan, cracking your eyes open, only for her face to be grinning down at you. "fuckin' maniac." she giggles.

"wha?" you groan. you're seeing double, your head is pounding.

"ran knocked you out. 's what you get for stabbin' 'em." sevika chuckles. "but, you're lucky, 'cause they don't hold a grudge. they helped me lug your ass outta stillwater."

"wha?!" you ask again, snapping up. sevika laughs as you look out the front window of the van-- the depths of piltover surrounding you as you head, presumebly, to the last drop.

you recognize the man driving-- a tall, muscular, tattooed man who'd recently been added to your cell block's guard rotation. in the passengers' seat sits the guard you'd stabbed-- bandaged and watching you with amusement.

"wha's happenin'?" you mumble, looking back at your cellmate as you clutch a hand to your throbbing head. you've been shrouded in a red cloak-- sevika's already out of her prison uniform and back in her 'second in command' look. she smirks at you.

"y' really think i was jus' sittin' around, servin' my time?" she asks. you shrug.

"figured somethin' was goin' on. y' kept gettin' those notes. didn't wanna ask." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"well, you shoulda. or i shoulda warned you, so you didn't try killing my crew." she chuckles. you blink over to the person in the passengers' seat, cringing.

"s-sorry." you mumble. they wave it off.

"'s cool. knocked you right the fuck out, didn't i?" they chuckle. "we're even."

you turn back to sevika. "you broke me out of prison?" you ask. she shrugs.

"'re you mad about it?" she asks. you gawk at her.

"uh... just... a little surprised?"

sevika cackles. you smile at the sound, despite your headache. "i wasn't plannin' on it! then you started givin' me your jello, 'n readin' all my books, 'n..."

"she's got a crush on you." ran fills in from the front.

"i didn't say that!" she shouts.

"she's not denying it though--" the man driving teases.

you choke on your spit. sevika huffs, rolls her eyes, and speaks. "i... i kinda got a crush on you, yeah." she mumbles. "and i swear i'm not sayin' this jus' 'cause i think you're cute but: you should really stay with us at the last drop until things calm back down, since, y'know... you're kinda wanted now..." she says, rubbing the back of her neck.

you blink... shocked.

you don't really know what to think. you tried your whole life to stay out of trouble, and it managed to find you anyways in the form of a drunken under-cover enforcer deciding to smack your ass when you'd had too many drinks to hold your punches. you tried to stay out of trouble in stillwater until you were saddled with sevika. you tried to stay out of trouble with her until she dragged you-- literally, you were unconscious!-- out of prison along with her. it seems like trouble's meant for you.

but if there's one thing you're certain of, it's sevika.

you smile at her, then reach up to cup her cheek. she looks more nervous than you've seen her in all your months in stillwater together.

"you gotta crush on me?" you ask. she gulps.

"i'd say it's a little more than a crush seeing she broke you outta stillwater as your first date--"

"ran!" sevika hollers. you chuckle.

"is this our first date?" you ask, raising your eyebrow at her. she shrugs.

"it's... jus' don't expect the next dates to be this exciting." she chuckles, rolling her eyes. you grin, then dart forward and press a kiss to her lips. when you pull away, she's wearing that same nervous look again.

"you okay?" you whisper. she licks her lips, nuzzles a bit against your hand on her face, and nods.

"'m just kickin' myself for not puttin' the moves on you sooner. coulda been fuckin' you to pass the time in prison instead of readin' all those boring books." she mumbles. you burst into laughter, and she grins.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

[shoccolatine]

Do you feel comfortable with writing stuff about mental health issues. Like, MC being depressed due to a mission going wrong or something similar and hiding it from Zayne while they spiral deeper into it until he catches them doing something bad - like idk, self-harm, looking up suicide methods, something like that. Gender neutral reader would be great <3

If you don't want to write this for any reason, feel free to ignore my ask :)

mission failure.

⚘pairing: zayne x gn!reader

⚘summary: after one too many failed missions, you reach a breaking point. zayne comes to your aid. ⚘tags: sfw, 2nd person POV, gender neutral reader, mental health issues, self-esteem issues, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-descriptive/implied self-harm, mild descriptions of morbid thoughts, hurt/comfort, angst ⚘word count: 2k ⚘a/n: thank you so much for your request, i hope i did it justice! this was a very interesting write and i enjoyed it a lot. i tried to be as delicate and vague with the s/h descriptions as i could so as not to trigger anyone, but this fic still deals with sensitive content so please be safe and take care of yourself! much love 💜

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was it. You just couldn’t do anything right.

Another hunting mission had gone poorly. The third in a row, now. They do say all good things come in threes, but could the same be said of misfortune? It certainly seemed so. The first two mission failures had been played off as flukes, but this time…

You made the long trek back to Headquarters with the weight of a tail dragging between your legs, bearing a few cuts and bruises to show for it. Beside you was Tara, who was not quite so worse for wear and, although disappointed, didn’t quite seem to share the same sentiment as you. After all, she hadn’t been the one to let the Wanderer get away. Again.

“Hey, don’t look so down!” she says, in her usual cheerful tone. She pats your arm in an attempt to be comforting. “Can’t win ‘em all, right?”

You give her a look and a frown. “I mean, we should, shouldn’t we? It’s our job, after all.”

“No way! Those Wanderers were tough! I’m amazed we got as far into the Zone as we did!”

But we lost our main target, you thought, yet you held your tongue. There was no changing Tara’s mind once she was set on something. This mission was above her level, anyway, but with every other Hunter either stationed elsewhere or taking a well-deserved break, and Xavier being unreachable as usual, all you had was each other. It had been up to you, as the higher level Hunter, to uphold the team morale and guide you both through a successful mission. But lately, you just kept falling short. Even the most straightforward of missions went awry. Just what was happening?

The entrance doors slid closed behind you as you and Tara headed upstairs for the debrief. Your heart pounded with every step you took. Three failures in a row… Jenna was going to fire you for sure. She might as well do it now, to make space for a newer, better Hunter to take your place and finish your missions properly.

Instead, what came of your debrief was the offering of a week-long break. "Time off to clear your head and refresh," Jenna had said with hard concern, but it might as well have been an arrow to the chest. Just fire me now and get it over with, you thought. Stop wasting everyone’s time and resources and find someone else.

You didn’t need a break. You just needed to be better.

Getting better, however, came with a steep demand you placed upon yourself like a vase upon a pedestal, delicate and teetering. If Jenna wanted to give you another chance, then you would use this week to return to peak performance. You would train, and train, and train, until you were sure to succeed at every mission she threw at you. It was flawless. You’d be back at it in no time.

But as soon as you got off the train and back into your apartment, all you wanted to do was sleep. 

And sleep you did. You slept until you couldn’t think of those missions anymore, and when the thoughts inevitably returned, you slept again.

“You’re not eating enough,” Zayne said during your following check-up later that week. He stated it so matter-of-factly, like he did with any other diagnosis, never looking up from his computer as he typed something. You never knew exactly what. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a break right now?”

“How do you know that?”

“Word gets around,” he said, the beginnings of a smile etched on his face. You didn't like the idea of people knowing things like that so easily. People sure do like to talk... Zayne's hazel eyes lifted from the screen and over at you. “You need to take better care of yourself. Now is as good a time as any to catch up on your body’s needs.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped. Sometimes Zayne needed to mind his own business. Wait, but he was your doctor, and one of your closest friends… What was the matter with you? You really needed to go back to bed and stop being such a nuisance. 

Maybe it’d be better if you got out of his life, too.

You met his questioning expression and the heat of your response drained out of your face. At that, you decided you didn’t want to wait for a reply. Whatever he wanted to say to you with that curious expression of his, you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t deserve to hear it. You quickly left his office and never looked back. If he called your name as the door to his office slid closed behind you, it went unheard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

5 missed calls.

Your phone screen blares the message in your face, blinding against the darkness of your room and blurry against the tears that threatened to fall, that had already fallen, that fell and dried and fell again. Your fingers itch to reply, to call him back or send him a text, but what’s the point? He doesn’t really care. He’s probably just going to scold you for leaving your appointment halfway and being childish and not following doctor’s orders and being rude to him.

Not only have you messed up your job, you’re messing up your relationships now, too. When will you ever stop? Can’t it ever stop?

Your phone buzzes and lights up in your fingers as your ringtone sings into your sheets once more. It’s him again. Doesn’t he know when to quit? You watch his name as it waits idly on your screen. It gets tired of waiting, as it always does, and finally disappears. You sigh as another hot tear slips down your cheek.

Something new happens this time.

1 new voicemail, your phone screen reads. You start to slide the notification away, but against your better judgment, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you give in, tap the notification, and listen. 

The line is silent for a moment, and part of you hopes he gave up and left you nothing.

Finally, after what sounds like a throat clearing, he speaks.

“Hey, it’s me,” Zayne’s voice comes through the speaker. It’s got that usual muffled crackly phonecall texture laid onto it, but it sounds enough like him that it feels like he’s right there with you, underneath the blankets. “Are you alright? …Listen. Whatever it was I said, I didn’t mean it. You know that. I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner, but you left so suddenly. Call me when you’re able?”

The silence creeps in again, and you can almost hear him consider saying something more, can almost see his expression as his thoughts thunder in his brain but refuse to leave his lips, but then there’s a click, and the call ends. The robotic voicemail message drones monotonously about saving the message, and halfway through, you hang up, too.

The back of your throat clenches and burns, and you barely fight back a sob as it wrenches itself out of you. Zayne was worried about you. You made him worry. You thought he was mad, you wanted him to be mad, but he’s not. He cares about you. Why…?

You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, as if you could push back the sting of tears that rush, hot and salty, from your bloodshot eyes. It hurts, and you start to see flashes of bright white stars under your eyelids, but it’s better than succumbing to the pain in your chest. Your heart shares a galaxy with the stars in your vision, a dying star that’s fizzling out, or maybe even being consumed by the void of a black hole. How morbidly comforting. You suddenly want to rip it out.

You wonder, just how difficult would it be to separate the Aether Core from your still-beating flesh…?

You try to shake the thoughts from your mind but they hold fast. Throwing the blankets off of your body, you leave your room hobbling like a zombie, make a beeline for the kitchen, and pull open a drawer.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s late at night when there’s a knock at your door. A slight rap of the knuckles. A sharp one, two. Once, then twice, and on the third knock there’s another sound, too. A rattling jingle. And it’s times like these when you curse yourself for giving Zayne the extra key to your apartment.

He calls out your name as he steps in. You barely hear him. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s far away, or speaking quietly, or if you’re just that far gone into your own thoughts that everything else around you is muted.

He might have called only once, or a dozen times, by the time he reaches your room and spots your hunched figure on your bed. He says your name again, and this time you do hear him. 

You meet his gaze, steeled with concern, and immediately regret it. 

He sees you, really sees you, and all at once your façade crumbles once more. He approaches the edge of your bed, and you turn your eyes anywhere but at him as you brace yourself for impact.

“What are you doing?” he asks, but he already knows the answer.

Zayne grabs your wrist. Yet, his touch is gentle—firm enough to grip you, but soft enough that you could pull away if you wanted. You don't. You’re far too tired to fight anymore. You continue to stare at the floor with teary eyes, but there is resignation hanging heavy on your shoulders, like a wet blanket. Zayne takes your silent compliance as an okay to pull you along with him down the hallway of your dimly lit apartment and into the bathroom.

He sits you down on the toilet. The light clack of the lid hitting the porcelain beneath from your sudden weight seemed to jolt you awake a bit; your eyes refocus and follow his movements as he shuffles through the medicine cabinet. He pulls out a few things and then returns to tend to his patient.

"Hand. Here," he says as he holds out his own. You offer yours, and he meets you halfway. He always does. He’s as meticulous and calm as always as he cleans, disinfects, and wraps your wounds, ever the doctor, but there’s a certain softness in his motions that you’re sure he reserves for only his most cherished patients. 

Only for you.

The thought rolls a warm wave over you, the once wet blanket that had been dragging you down now fresh out of the laundry and wrapped carefully around you, cozy and hot and certain. There’s still a bit of damp spots here and there, but those will also dry in time. And you know Zayne will still be here when that time comes.

Your thoughts are broken when long fingers drag against your cheek, wiping away yet more damp spots and fanning through your shining lashes.

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Zayne says, repeating his words from earlier that day. Was that really only today? This day was lasting a lifetime. As with before, his tone holds no ice. You regret snapping at him when he was only trying to help. He must feel your tension, because he puffs a breath out through his nose just then, and the warm air tickles the hairs on your forehead. He places a kiss there, the barest brush of his lips on your skin. He pushes your hair back with long warm fingers, tucking a strand behind your ear. “If you need help with that, I’m here. Always. You need only ask.”

Later still and he’s tucking you into bed and giving your forehead another gentle kiss, making you feel like a kid again. He’s surprisingly good at that. You don't know how he does it.

Zayne follows you under the covers, and leaves you an open invitation to snuggle against him, if you wish. You gratefully accept, tucking your head under his chin as he envelops you. He’s very careful not to apply pressure to your bandaged skin. 

Right before you fall asleep, he whispers a promise of breakfast tomorrow, and dinner, and whatever else comes next. A promise of staying, no matter what.

#soft zayne is best zayne #change my mind (you won't) #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne lads #l&ds #l&ds x reader #fics

[tossawary]

One of my favorite Discworld books is actually one of the more obscure ones, "Moving Pictures", which is about the invention of films and the movie business in this fantasy world that has dwarves and trolls and wizards and so on. It has its rough patches like every early Discworld book, but Ginger's speech about people who were born in the wrong time or wrong place for their dreams really gets to me in a good way, and I love all of the references to classic films and commentary on fame and creativity. It also has classic characters like Gaspode the Talking Dog and C.M.O.T. Dibbler, and it introduces Detritus's romance with another troll named Ruby.

Perhaps most importantly to me is that this book introduces Ponder Stibbons, who is a wizard, and who goes on in later books to be one of the most important members of the Unseen University (he holds like twelve different positions), in that he's one of the few people who can competently manage a project and so ends up managing nearly everything. (Bear with me, it's been a while since I read any Discworld and my memory is a little rough.) In "Moving Pictures", Ponder is the classmate (roommate?) of a fellow named Victor Tugelbend, who is one of the main characters.

Victor begins the book as a career student, in that a wealthy relative left him a great deal of money exclusively for school; so as long as he STAYS in school, all of his living expenses are paid for. If Victor graduates, that's the end of the money. If Victor drops out, that's the end of the money. But if Victor manages to hit a specific mark range in the 80s every year, then he gets to stay on for another year and try again, and so Victor is perhaps the most dedicated and knowledgeable wizardry student in the university's history, because you have to know what the right answer is in order to intentionally get a certain number of the questions wrong, so that you can continue to coast along on your college fund.

Ponder's graduation is (accidentally) Victor's fault, because Victor runs away to get into the movie business. (I won't spoil what happens, but it's VERY funny.) Now, I like to imagine after the events of the book, after Ponder holds a faculty position in the university, Victor comes BACK to the university occasionally as a disgustingly well-paid external consultant, which drives Ponder UP THE FUCKING WALL. Like, people are so stingy all of the time but SOMEHOW the university budget has room to bring your offensively handsome dropout roommate back just to say, "Hmm, yes, that looks bad. Have you tried turning it off and on again?" I'd throw a fit, honestly. (As soon as Ponder has enough seniority, he probably puts his foot down to stop this if Victor isn't actually useful. Maybe he is, idk, but maybe not for THAT consulting fee.)

I also like to imagine that Victor Tugelbend and Theda "Ginger" Withel are still together, maybe even still acting (badly? mediocre-ly? decently?) together, in some dingy little theatre (Ginger is the director and runs their acting troupe like a tyrant) where the front seats are regularly filled with middle-aged folks who still sigh over the memories of moving pictures. (Moving pictures are now, presumably, VERY illegal in Ankh Morpork.) Victor and Ginger have only because even more attractive as they've gotten older, which is EVEN MORE OFFENSIVE to poor Ponder because his former movie star former roommate is married to another gorgeous former movie star?! I'd throw another fit.

Anyway, I think Ponder deserves to have an affair with a pair of aging former movie stars. I like to imagine this purely because I think it's funny. He seems kind of busy for marriage, so joining someone else's marriage part-time might be good for him. It probably makes most of the rest of the Unseen University faculty breathlessly envious and that really does it for him.

And I think that this affair would OF COURSE be covered by every newspaper and tabloid in the city, including The Times, and William de Worde and Sacharissa Cripslock don't fully understand why their entertainment reporter is so breathlessly excited about people who were famous over a decade ago? (Supermarket tabloids love to tell me about alleged affairs of people who were famous 20+ years ago.) The article on Victor Maraschino and Delores De Syn's failing marriage* is their bestselling newspaper in months and William puts his head down on his desk in despair. (He's fine. This happens on a weekly at least basis. He just needs a minute.)

*Victor and Ginger are very happy with this situation, actually. They're going to take Ponder to dinner to go on a double date with Ruby and Detritus soon. Victor and Ponder are going to get distracted arguing about some of the Inadvisably Applied Magic research projects, but that's fine, because Ginger wants to talk to Ruby about this one-troll-woman-show concept. (Detritus will proudly hand out tickets at the Watch station and accidentally intimidate all of his coworkers into accepting the invitation.)

#tossawary discworld #fic ideas #spoilers #long post

[mouschiwrites]

Hey guys!! Dipping my toes back into writing!! (See my pinned post for new fandoms!)

I wanted to try something light, and my sibling got me into Scott Pilgrim, so… here we are…

Scott Pilgrim - Holding Hands

Characters: Scott Pilgrim, Wallace Wells, Lucas Lee, Gideon Graves, Lisa Miller

Scott

He always asks before holding hands

At first it’s verbal, but after a while he just starts holding out his hand with wide puppy-dog eyes

He absolutely RADIATES when you comply

He gets this massive grin and keeps glancing at you with hearts in his eyes

To him it’s a way of showing you’re together, plus it’s physical affection, which he loves

He likes to hold hands in public more than in private

He’ll swing your arms merrily while you walk along the sidewalk, maybe even humming a little tune

You will have to ask him to let go of your hand; he gets so lost in his joy that he doesn’t think to let go (even if you try to pull away)

“Uh, Scott? My hand?”

“Hm? Oh, you want it back. Right. Haha.”

At least his hands are always soft (from gamer sweat) and warm

Wallace

Holding hands isn’t a big deal for him

It’s not really a show of affection for him, just something random he does when he feels like it

He’ll just grab yours casually, not caring who sees

He won’t even pause his sentence/task/whatever he’s doing, he just grabs it and carries on

He thinks it’s adorable if you get all flustered

He WILL tease you about it too

“What’s wrong? Aw, are you embarrassed?”

“Shut up…”

“Love you too.”

His hands are sooo soft, with nicely trimmed nails, and they smell like expensive lotion

Which he might share if you ask really nicely…

Lucas

He LOVES holding hands

He acts nonchalant about it in public, but he’s beaming on the inside

He thinks it’s cute :)

He also uses it as a way to show you’re his (both in a “back off” way and a “look at my smoking hot s/o” way)

“Um, hello? They’re literally holding my hand. Back off, pal.”

In private he shows how he feels a little more, with a little smile playing on his lips as he squeezes your hand

Just chilling on the couch while holding hands is one of his favorite things in the world

(Also when in private) he compliments your hands

His hands are a just a little rough, and he keeps his nails trimmed really short

Gideon

Holding hands is mainly a territorial thing for him

He’ll only grab your hand when he knows people are watching

He might also use it to “prove his affection”

In reality he doesn’t really like it at all

And you can definitely guess as much: he’ll sigh when he takes your hand, and the way he holds it… it’s like he’s afraid you’ve got diseases

“Did you wash your hands?”

“Yes..? Why are you whispering? …oh.”

He’ll begrudgingly place a kiss on it anyway

Hand holding is just not your guys’ thing

But his hands are very soft and clean, and he always has a killer manicure

Somehow his cuticles still suck though…

Lisa

She also really likes holding hands

She thinks it’s cute, plus she likes to show you off

So she mainly does it when in public

Her hands always smell like fruity lotion, which she uses often to make them silky smooth :)

She insists you also use the lotion, especially if/when your hands are calloused

When your hand is in hers, it’s just another part of her hand

She’ll continue to use it like you’re not holding her hand

But if you try to pull away, she gets confused

“You don’t want to hold hands anymore??” :(

“Huh? I thought you wanted it back so you could grab the thing…”

“I can grab it while still holding hands!!”

Thank you so much for reading!! I’m still trying to figure out if I want to finish the requests in my inbox… idk, I’m just not very motivated rn :( I’m so sorry guys

(divider by saradika)

#scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim x reader #wallace wells #wallace wells x reader #lucas lee #lucas lee x reader #gideon graves #gideon graves x reader #lisa miller #lisa miller x reader #scott pilgrim takes off #spto x reader

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。12:06 AM — SAMPO KOSKI.

notes: friends/acquaintances to lovers, mutual pining but seemingly unrequited love, confessions (kind of lol), happy ending !!, not proof read and also idek if it’s in character but idk i just want to kiss him but he’s also rly punchable so we had to work with that okay

sampo is a bit shameless—it’s what anyone would tell you. personally, you would have to agree.

“so,” he drawls, “how about it, huh? you, me, a fancy little date—”

“no,” you interrupt—it’s immediate, your response, it comes through grit teeth. “you can forget it.”

“alright, alright,” he raises his hands in surrender, “no need to get all aggressive. the sampo koski will change your mind soon enough.”

you’ve lost count how many times he’s asked you this same question. maybe it’s admirable—the way he’s so persistent. maybe it’s dangerous—the way he always gets what he’s after. most people describe sampo koski as an added headache to the already difficult life of the underworld. he’s a bit too lively for his own good, you think. but you’d describe him as pretty words and perfect teeth and cologne that makes your head spin.

you hate it.

“there won’t be any mind changing,” you say promptly.

“oh, c’mon,” he insists, voice effortlessly honeyed and so painfully alluring. “what’s the worst that could happen, huh? we have a good time?” his lips curl into that smile if his. you swallow and look away.

a lot, you want to say. the worst that can happen is a lot.

and it’s easy, you think—to reach over and fix that strand of hair that’s fallen to the wrong side of his face. it’s easy to bump shoulders with him or turn and brush your noses together and feel his hot breath as he exhales.

but that would be toying with overstepping dangerous boundaries, boundaries that are very much set in place by yourself for your own sake. sampo has saved you one too many times from a hard spot—but he’s always managed to disappear just when you think he’s reliable too. he’s too good at bending things in his favor, a little too good at getting what he wants out of everything.

it’s not hard to think what he wants from you—and it’s not hard to imagine him disappearing once again once he’s got it. the difference is you think this time…well, you think this time might just crush you.

“sampo, do you want me to punch you?” you huff, crossing your arms.

it’s late. you’re not sure why he’s gone out of his way to walk you home, but he does and you’re a tad bit grateful. you’d rather not run into a vagrant on your way—and if you do, that’s happily sampo’s problem now.

there’s something about it, about the way he’s dedicated only when there’s something to gain out of it, about the way he’s so sweet and charming as he butters you up with his actions, about the way his smile is gentle around the corners just perfectly to crack your resolve.

he’s so good at what he does—and so painfully bad for your heart. your poor, fragile heart that’s so carefully locked away from his awaiting hand. you think to give it to him would be to hand the devil your soul and trust it’s safety.

you’re not so foolish.

“hey, we’re pals, you and i,” he nudges you with his shoulder. the contact is enough to make your breath pause. “how can you be so cruel?”

there’s a pout on his lips. a perfectly rehearsed, theatrical and conniving pout on his lips that’s meant to add to his charm and chip away at your composure until you give him exactly what he’s after. for a moment, you debate whether or not you’d rather just take on a vagrant or deal with the (very attractive) disaster next to you.

“we’re acquaintances at best,” you purse your lips. “very faintly acquainted acquaintances at that.”

“well that’s just mean,” he gasps, “after all the business deals we’ve had together? i thought i’d be on your good side by now.”

that’s all you think he sees anything as. a good business opportunity. maybe he’s a good friend—he never leaves you for dead and he never really lets you down when you need him most, but perhaps that’s for his own benefit at the end. how else can you have connections if they’re all dead? but you don’t think intimacy is a word sampo uses in his every day vocabulary—much less his every day routine.

“sampo,” you snap, “drop it.”

“hey,” he eyes you, “everything alright?”

you hate that he acts like that—like he cares as his lips curl into that soft frown and his eyes gloss over in concern. it’s so carefully crafted, that mask of his, the one he can turn on to mimic every emotion he might need to fool you that he really cares and he really wants to know if you’re okay.

and you’re not—but he doesn’t need to know that.

“everything would be fine if you quit asking for your stupid date,” you grumble, “cross me off your list for the day.”

he stops walking. you kick yourself for immediately noticing the lack of warmth as soon as he’s not beside you anymore.

“what?”

it’s a simple question. one word. one syllable. yet it says so much. the hurt in his voice, the genuine confusion, the slight shock and the underlying betrayal.

“why’d you stop walking,” you raise a brow, “it’s late and i’m tired—”

“you’re changing the subject,” he cuts you off, “what do you mean list?”

“c’mon sampo, let’s not play this game tonight,” you sigh, “i’m really tired.”

“and what game are we playing?”

“the game of playing dumb,” you snap, and this time, there’s a bit more bite to your words, “the game of asking around to worm your way into everyone’s pants.”

“everyone’s pants? i didn’t know sampo koski had such a reputation,” he chuckles in that playful way of his—but there’s no charm this time, just dryness. “i didn’t know you believed it too.”

“so what am i supposed to believe? that you want to go on a date for fun?”

“that’s usually what people do on dates,” he shrugs, “have fun with people they like.”

he looks a bit wounded. it makes your heart bleed and you don’t like it. his shoulders are slumped and his eyes aren’t looking directly into yours for once—it’s like you’ve peeled off that confidence he wears like a second skin and left something a lot more tender and raw underneath.

something a lot easier to sting with the burn of rejection.

admittedly, you never thought you’d see the day where you’d feel bad for sampo after your rejection. you always thought you’d feel bad for yourself—saying no to everything you want but can’t ever really have. but he makes you feel like he wanted it too….that he’s been craving you just as badly as you’ve been craving him all this time.

“what are you—”

“listen, i….” and then he trails off. like he doesn’t have the right words. like he doesn’t know what he wants to say and has everything he wants to get off his chest all at the same time. like he needs you to know what’s on his mind. in the end, he plasters a grin on his face—one that’s tight and forced as he chuckles, “let’s get ya home, yeah? sampo koski will have you delivered to your door in once piece in no time—”

“sampo,” you sigh, “what do you want from me?”

there’s defeat in your voice. maybe hope. definitely caution.

“a date,” is all he says. “i’ve only ever asked you,” he adds, “if that’s what you’re worried about. no side deals or anything.”

that last part comes with another chuckle that really has no humor at all. it’s dry and empty and maybe even a little bitter.

“look, i appreciate the dedication, but i’d rather not be that fun hook up on the side that—”

“hey! that’s just harsh,” he gasps, “you’d think so lowly of sampo koski? after everything we’ve been through?”

sampo is good at one thing—playing the ever dedicated, ever conniving, ever charming business man. he knows how to lace in sweet words and tempting offers like how the devil whispers sins into your ears. he never cracks, never lets that facade fall even when he’s backed into a corner.

except this time, you don’t think it’s a facade. you think it’s a wall to keep you from noticing the pure heartbreak in his eyes.

it fills you with guilt instantly. it makes you almost hate yourself for not seeing good in him. it makes you feel blind for not noticing all the signs he’s been dropping for so long—signs you know he’s never given anyone else.

who else does he bump shoulders with and walk home in the dark and flick foreheads and make time for even when he’s on a tight schedule? who else gets to hear him talk about his day for just the sake of talking without and not a guise for a deal?

for a second you feel bad—and then you decide that for once, you’ll do something about it.

“sampo koski is always disappearing,” you say softly, taking a step forward, “what if he disappears this time too?”

“sampo koski always comes back,” he reminds you, heart on his sleeve as he meets you half way.

“always?” you ask hopefully.

he nods, like it’s the surest thing he’s promised. “of course.”

“okay, sampo,” you chuckle breathlessly, whether in joy or in disbelief, you’re unsure. maybe both. your hand cups his cheeks and when he leans into it, you decide it’s definitely both. “let’s go on your date. you’re paying.”

“you didn’t have to bring money into it,” he pouts—but the excitement in his voice is almost tangible.

you giggle, squeeze his cheeks together as his hands find your waist. it’s dark and it’s late and you’re tired—but sampo koski is here and nothing else has ever mattered more.

“i expect only the best date from the sampo koski.”

“good,” he grins, charming as ever, a little extra only for you, “because sampo koski never disappoints.”

you kiss him after that. and every day too.

i have been bewitched by the meathead guys 😔

#tee star rail debut ?? i thought my first piece would be blade but it’s taking me 8274 years to meet him. never expected sampo but good god #he gets you when you least expect it #sampo x reader #sampo x you #sampo fluff #sampo koski x reader #sampo koski x you #sampo koski fluff #star rail x reader #star rail x you #star rail fluff #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail fluff #teepods.writings #drabbles.

[vixensbrainrotts]

Young and Beautiful — Hanma Shuji

Content: Imagines

Warnings: vaguely sexual tension, nothing nsfw though

Summary: you decide to take boudoir pictures, and pleasantly surprised by your (very) hot photographer.

Vixen’s two cents: hello! This started out as an imagine but i realized i dont really like writing imagines (it feels so unstructured), so have this little scenario instead. Also, whilst rereading this i realize that Shui seems a little creepy and i swear i dint want him to come off like that?! It was a hot idea in my head, idk how well that that translated, lmk about it! Remember my REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Also im still on the hunt for moots for proofreading and triangulation in case anyone is interested please contact me!!

When your auntie told you to go and take boudoir pictures, you thought she was talking crazy and waved her off with a polite smile, but she wouldn’t let up. “You’re as young and beautiful as you’ll ever be! Take them for yourself when you’re old like me! It might seem awkward but it’ll be worth it!”

If you would tell yourself from a week ago that you were had booked an appointment to the nearest place, you would have fainted. And if you would have told yourself from 4 hours ago, when you booked that appointment that you would eventually have to step INTO the store too, you would have freaked out. Screw that, you were freaking out now.

You had considered turning around and running about four or five times, but that little voice in the back of your head going pussy wouldnt leave you alone. In a burst of confidence you entered the shop and were met with a surprisingly comfortable atmosphere, and a cozy interior.

You scan the shop for a few seconds, deeming it good enough not to run out of right away, before a tall, slim figure emerged from one of the Backrooms. He wore a lazy smile when he came to you, clicking away at the computer on the desk before asking “Are you my boudoir at 4?” In a smooth, low voice.

You nod shyly in response, fidgeting with your hands a little. He chuckled in response “Don’t worry love, I won’t do anything- this is my job after all.”

He led you to a studio type room and handed you a robe. “Over there.” He said, and a long index of his rose to gesture to a little changing cabin in the corner of the room. “Ill go get everything set up for us.” And with that, he left you to freak out in the changing rooms because fuck he’s hot!

When you emerge again he’s already handling some sort of lenses to the end of the cameras, lights and props set up and ready to go. When he looks to you, you grow shy again and tug the robe a little tighter around your body. He sees this and nods reassuringly “It’s normal to be nervous, sweetheart.” Which only makes you more nervous.

He notices, but chooses to ignore it as he guides you to one of the chairs that are set up. “Now dont worry too much about anything. Just do your thing, ill do all the magic.” You sit, admittedly a little more relaxed but still stiff and he huffs with a smile. “Relax girl! You dont want these looking like pass photos do you?” And that makes you giggle a litte, finally loosening up again.

“There we go. That’s better already. Want me to talk you through it, distract you a little? Do you think that would help?” Eyes are soft but his gaze burns straight through you. “I think that would help, yeah.” And that makes him smile a little.

“How old are you anyway? You look very young- I don’t normally get a lot of girls your age.” He lifts the camera and clicks something on a little machine that begins whirring lightly in the background, producing little qualms of smoke. “I uh, im twenty two. Don’t get me wrong I would have never done this on my own accord, but my auntie, she said that id regret it my whole life if i don’t do this and all such things.”

Whilst you had been explaining, your robe had started slipping off your shoulders. You had noticed but found it the most natural transition into the inevitable. Getting more comfortable, you decided to throw your legs over one of the seat’s armrests, leaning back a little, getting comfortable, as he had advised.

“Thank your auntie for me then.” He whispered underneath his breath, the shutter clicking softly.

#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tr content #tokyo manji revengers #tr headcanons #hanma x reader #hanma shuji #tokyo revengers hanma #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma x you #tokrev hanma #hanma