#plus i think it goes with the idea that anything i post over there is gonna be like junk food:

[gamebunny-advance]

@gamebunny-bunsout

After much deliberation, I've decided to start a mature side blog. I've been wanting to post some of my more "crass" material without censoring it or putting it on this otherwise general blog, so I made this blog.

There's nothing there right now (and there might not be for a while), and I dunno if I'm gonna put any of my old material there, but any new dick jokes or otherwise sexually inclined material is going to go there from now on.

That said, this is a mature blog, so only follow if you're 18+ please.

#i'm not too attached to the url #so it might change #another one i really liked was 'gamebunny-homelewd' #but i feel like that implies that it would be more titillating than i plan on it being #it is 80% just gonna be dick jokes #maybe occasionally i'll be tempted to draw my blorbos in a state of undress #but i don't figure it'll get worse than the GW pin-up i did forever ago #actually i might redraw that just to get an idea of how comfortable i'm actually gonna be with that kinda stuff #behind the scenes: #originally I was gonna make a new GAB to represent this blog #i was thinking a more 'pink/red/white' version of 'chocomallow' #or a coffee themed one if i went with 'homelewd' #but when the 'buns' pun presented itself to me #I HAD to go with Ketchup & Mustard #plus i think it goes with the idea that anything i post over there is gonna be like junk food: #kinda greasy and gross but sometimes you just get a craving for that kinda thing

[jxckchxmpi0n]

BOXER ETHAN HEADCANNONS

This has been on my mind for so long. Shoutout to the people who gave me some ideas 🙌 sorry for being short. I couldn't think of any [plus it's late and I haven't posted anything in a few days]

Mentions of NSFW | m.list

Ethan found an interest in boxing the year before he met you. He didn't mention that much, but when you came over to his dorm, you found his gloves and became obsessed.

He always has bruises on his knuckles.

Sometimes, if he's having a rough day and you haven't heard from him, usually due to arguments with his dad, you'll always find him at the rink.

The first time you visited him, he was fighting with another boxer. You sat at a bench watching him. Seeing him move so quickly was so mesmerizing.

On days he loses his matches, he will come back to his or your apartment so frustrated. You would help him out by making him feel good, but it was never enough.

He would then just become a different person and take his frustration out on you, but still be very sweet about it. "Fuck, baby making me feel so good. Taking me so well, look at you. You like it when I'm this, don't you?"

Everynow and then his walls would slowly have new posters to hide the fact that he punched some holes in them.

When you hang out, he will do his workout sometimes, and afterward, his hair will be sticking to his forehead. He'd be out of breath and sweaty. You never mind that look on him, though.

Once he's done with his workout, he would stand in front of the mirror and flex. Then, he would run to you and flex so you could touch his muscles. He always gets excited when he sees improvement.

"Do you feel that?"

"I do! Wow, look at you!"

One day, he forgot his water bottle at your apartment, so he asked you to bring it by. He was already in the rink, all sweaty and punching at his opponent. After his match, when he saw you, his face would light up.

"There you are, baby," he would then kiss you very passionately, not caring if the other saw.

Sometimes, when you're making food, he will just stand there and fake punch at you, and sometimes he really will punch you but not forceful. It would be the lightest tap ever.

You would ask about boxing all the time, which led him to show you some moves. He couldn't help himself in the end, but seeing you all serious and doing something he loves just turned him on.

After tournaments, you would wait for him to take a shower. The others would be gone by now, so you waited in the lobby. But you noticed a text from him asking you to come to the locker rooms.

He would then convince you to have a quicky. "That's it baby, fuck you feel so good"

Sometimes, when he's bored, he will sit there and just punch at your legs. Not hard or anything, just tap them mainly and make sound affects. "Psh boom pow bam psh"

On bad days, you would have to patch him up. His dad would get into his head, which made him doubt himself in boxing. "I know your dad says shit all the time, and he's wrong every single time. Do what you love! Don't listen to him, even if that means cutting him out of your life. If boxing makes you happy, do it!"

You would have so many first aid kit supplies, mainly for his knuckles, because he would split them so often.

Manz treats you so well!!

He will spoil the shit out of you! When winning matches, he always wins some cash, and more than half always goes to you!

He has this routine before a match, and if he doesn't kiss you, he believes he doesn't have good luck.

If he hadn't gotten a hair cut in a while and his hair was grown out, he'll let you braid his hair before he went to the gym.

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #jack champion x reader #ethan landry x reader #spider avatar #jack champion imagine #ghost face x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic #avatar spider #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water

[redbullgirly]

HI BABRIE! HI KEN! [part 3, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x pregnant!reader [social media au]

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 1, LH44 smau] & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part 2, LH 44 smau]

Summary: Lewis and his "real-life Barbie" girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N have a secret they keep from the fans. Though it's only matter of time before they announce the happy news... it's not like it can stay hidden forever anyways.

Warnings: Pregnancy. Slight hate and bodyshaming towards Y/N. If you're not in the right headspace, please don't read it!🫶

Author's Note: After quite some time, hello! I'm so sorry this took so long, but life has been so busy and hectic last month I simply didn't have time and energy to write this sooner. Though I'm very glad for everyone who waited for this part and I hope you'll like it. It's probably not the last one, I have few ideas for more parts. But I don't want to promise anything, we all know how long this part took XD.

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by orlandobloom, f1, sebastianvettel, emmawatson and others

tagged: yourcharity

lewishamilton So proud to support charity program for the involvement of children from disadvantaged families in sports yourusername has been working on for a few years now. All money raised from the friendly basketball match goes to the fond of the charity. Let's change lives of these talented kids together! 💫🙏🏾

view all 18,349 comments

user1 basketball players should be grateful our king chose to be f1 driver 😌

user2 fr

yourusername together we can change the world for better!! 💫💕

liked by the author

user3 You make our lives better by existing Y/N😍😍

user4 I think this is too idealistic lol

user5 queen speaking facts and keeping us motivated

user6 LET HER COOK 🗣🗣🗣

user7 Sir Lewis Hamilton is Sir for a reason 👑

mercedesamgf1 🙏🤍

user8 even though he'll be driving for ferrari next year mercedes still supports him!!!

user9 and what did you think? that they'll ignore him or hate him suddenly? he still got a whole season w them 🤣 plus it's all marketing

user10 nah i'll just live in delusion that admin loves lewis & y/n🥰🥰🥰🥰

user11 I love how you use your platform to raise awareness

user12 omg he's so hot 🥵

user13 Wait, why is Lewis at Y/N's charity event instead of her? I usually support her, but this is just weird... why can't she stand up for her own thing?

user14 RIGHT?! idk why she didn't even bother showing there

user15 Honestly I think that Lewis going there brings more attention to it than just her going there, and it's a good thing people are noticing this organization. Though I don't understand why she didn't go there as well 🤷‍♀️

user16 guys stop wtf she could be sick or smth

user14 or she's just another attention seeker... never liked her tbh

user16 the only attention seeker here is u user14 get a life and stop hating 😘

user14 i'm not hating, i'm stating facts and unlike y/n i don't need a man to do shit for me lmfao

user17 Y'all are really getting mad over nothing xddd

user18 Amazing work! 👏 you make the difference, Lewis😍🖤💛

user19 the fact he has pink pants bc it's y/n's fav color and it's for a charity event she helped organize... i want a man like him 😩

user20 He's down bad for her!!!

user21 I mean... who wouldn't, just look at her🤭

user22 fr what i'd give to talk to y/n once

user23 Our fashion barbie iconic Queen 💖💖

user24 Lew giving the little boy a fist bump🥹

user25 he is going to be a great dad one day

user24 Oh definitely!🫶

user26 can't wait for dad lewis

user27 omggg imagine little him and y/n running around the paddock 😭😭

user26 they'll be sooo cute istg

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lewishamilton, lilymhe, landonorris, isahernaez and 639,910 others

tagged: mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco

yourusername japan grand prix w my favs 🇯🇵🤍

view all 4,249 comments

lewishamilton 🤍🤍

liked by the author

user1 awww i live for bf lewis

user2 YOU DESERVE SOMEONE BETTER

user3 and who would that be user2 ?? you? lmfao u wish🤣🤣

user4 the disrespect of writing these things under HIS COMMENT where he shows SUPPORT to HIS GIRLFRIEND...

user5 Lewis & Y/N 4ever 🫶

user6 omg look at roscoe baby so cute

user7 the teeth I can't🥹

user8 It's Roscoe's world and we're just living in it fr

alexandrasaintmleux so prettyyy 🙏🌺

liked by lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco

yourusername oh stoppp u are prettier 💓💐

user9 Girls supporting girls and wags supporting wags... that's what we like!!!!

user10 the fact lewis liked alex's comment w two accounts is the best thing that happened this week😭

user11 shut uppp I didn't even notice it before user10 😭 he's such a simp I love this 😭😭

user10 i knoooow😭

user12 finally you attended a grand prix this year!!!!

user13 😍😍😍😍😍

mercedesamgf1 It's always brighter with you in the paddock Barbie Y/N!💖

liked by the author, lewishamilton and carmenmmundt

yourusername next time i'm going all out w the pink 💖🫶

user14 the legend herselffff

user15 Admin is slaying and supporting Y/N 💁‍♀️

user16 MOTHER IS SERVING ONCE AGAIN🧎🏻‍♀️

roscoelovescoco Enjoying's dad's racing's w my's best's mum's ☺️🏎

yourusername enjoying dad racing w my best son 🥹💕

user17 not roscoe slowly learning y/n's slang and saying w instead of with🤭

user18 and the fact Lewis is the one really writing it... !!!!!

user19 They're such cute a family🥰

user20 mum and dad and son... I can't it's too adorable 🫠❤️‍🩹

user21 Literally the queen of f1 and gorgeousness keep slaying

user22 where is the usual barbie aesthetic?!😥

user23 fr I want pink dresses not blue trousers

user24 Guys she can wear whatever she wants

user23 yeah true but still... she already built that image so why not keep it wtf 🤷‍♀️

user25 Covering her fat stomach with the purse ewww 🤢🥴

user26 i wanna take u haters seriously... but I just can't xd

user27 if you have anger issues like me and don't like online trolls, pls stop scrolling people! there are so many dumb users from twitter in these comments!🙃

user28 I just don't get why they're hating on Y/N all of sudden... what did she ever do to them

user29 idk, probably bcs she wasn't active for a while (she was probably not feeling well or smth as she said in an interview few days back) and didn't attend any gp till japan this year (again she was probably sick so understandable)... plus lot of f1 "fans" are jealous bitches change my mind

user30 Internet always moves in waves and one time everybody loves u and then they hate u 😬

user31 yeah but it's so sad cause y/n is such a sweetheart🥺❤️

user32 I honestly wouldn't care about the haters if they didn't attack her body and the way she looks... that's down right embarrassing and disgusting

user33 AGREED user32

twitter & messages between Y/N and Lewis

lewishamilton and yourusername posted on instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, shawnmendes, t22felton, charles_leclerc and 27,925,028 others

lewishamilton It's hard to put into words how happy and excited we are. Can't wait to hold our baby in a few months and support my dearest love on every step of the way. Feeling blessed right now 🤍🪐

comments on this post have been limited

charles_leclerc Well, that's a shocking news I didn't know about this time...😂

charles_leclerc But big congratulations!❤️

yourusername yeah we needed to give u heart attack w smth too 😉💋

susie_wolff Congratulations Lewis and Y/N, you will be great parents! 💫🫶

yourusername thx susie, we have great role models in u and toto!!! ✨❤️‍🩹

lewishamilton 🫶🏾🫶🏾

kellypiquet what a great news!🥹

yourusername love u kelly 💕

sebastianvettel Many congratulations!

lewishamilton Thank you Seb!

yourusername will u be the fun uncle??? pls seb 🥹🙏

sebastianvettel If you'll make me their godfather....

yourusername done deal 🤝

lewishamilton I-... fair enough, done deal

fencer EXCUSE ME?!! THAT'S NOT FAIR

charles_leclerc Yeah what is this favorism?!

yourusername guys it's seb how could we say no 😌✨

charles_leclerc True... fair enough then I guess 🙂

fencer I still feel VERY offended

yourusername charles don't use that ironic emoji on me and fencer u can have the second child

lewishamilton Darling that sounds like you're sacrificing our second child while the first one isn't even born yet...

yourusername whoops 🫢🙈

sebastianvettel Do you realize this is not a private conversation?

yourusername actually u can set selected comments private seb 😁

charles_leclerc Wait seriously?!

lewishamilton No, she's just testing if he's old enough to believe her 🙄

yourusername you're sour bc u believed me the first time i tried it love ☺️🫶

sebastianvettel This is exactly why I didn't have Instagram sooner.

charles_lecerc We love you Seb!❤️

yourusername yeah we do love u our new godfather!!!!💖

mercedesamgf1 Congratulations from the whole team!🤩🤍

liked by the author

alexandrasaintmleux awww so happy for both of u!💞

yourusername hope you're prepared to be the fav auntie 🤭💋

alexandrasaintmleux anything for my little nephew or niece hamilton 🫡

scuderiaferrari The next world champion on the way?😍❤️

yourusername pls i hope they'll stay far away from racing 😭

scuderiaferrari Well... then we'll at least get another tifosi 😉

georgerussell68 Wishing all the best mate!

liked by the author

landonorris Wooohooo congrats!!!

landonorris Wait- do y'all realize you'll be parents now? Like real REAL parents of an actual child?!

yourusername yeah lando that's how it usually works when u get pregnant 😊

landonorris Yeah but... wait! The child needs to be McLaren fan!

yourusername your mission to get all hamiltons to be your fan is getting more complicated, isn't it? 😂🫢

landonorris Shhhh Y/N it's a secret mission 🤫

yourusername oh my bad sry

yourusername wait why do i know about it then???

landonorris Ehhh... miscalculation?

yourusername tf lando 😭

lewishamilton I'm starting to think this baby will be our second child and Lando is our first...

landonorris Wow so can I officially say Lewis Hamilton is my daddy now?😀

lewishamilton NO

yourusername lando don't you dare or istg

landonorris Byeee parents!! 🤗

f1 Let's go! 💖👶

francisca.cgomes babyyyyy 🤎🍂

pierregasly Why the leaves?

francisca.cgomes bcs it's an autumn babyyyyy

yourusername love u kika 💕

pierregasly Oh congrats by the way!🫶

yourusername thx pierre 💕

logansargeant RAAAAAHHH 🇺🇸🦅

logansargeant Sorry alex_albon took my phone 😒 I wanted to say congratulations!🤍

alex_albon 😇

yourusername lol

yourusername but thx sm logan, you're such a sweetheart! 🫶

lilymhe I swear it'll be the cutest baby ever

yourusername babe it'll totally will if u say so 💋

kevinmagnussen 🙌

hulkhulkenberg Welcome to the dad's club on the grid Lewis! 😉

liked by the author

oscarpiastri What a happy day, congratulations! 🧡

yourusername what's the orange heart doing here oscahh??? 🤨

oscarpiastri 💖

oscarpiastri Better now?

yourusername thx oscar sm for the congrats!🥰 also you should use my signature heart emoji more often 💖

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by haileybieber, martagarcialopez19, mercedesamgf1 and 834,981 others

tagged: lewishamilton and alexandrasaintmleux

yourusername enjoying the barbie life 💖💐

view all 2,013 comments

lewishamilton Beautiful, gorgeous and my Barbie!

yourusername awww my ken 💞🫶

user1 omg i love them sm

user2 I wanna have what they have

user3 the effect bf Lewis has on me should be studied 😩

user4 Just the fact he usually isn't active on ig and doesn't comment or anything... and she is the only exception😭🤭

user5 gorgeous literally so gorgeous

user6 The baby bump 🥹🥹

user7 and she looks so good with it too 🥹🥹

alexandrasaintmleux such good times hanging out with my fav barbie! 💋💖

yourusername the best times girly!!! 💕

user8 i live for this friendship

user9 Imagine these two next year in Ferrari garage together!😍

user10 literally the only good thing coming out of lewis leaving mercedes

user11 fr fr user10

user12 Are those flowers from Lewis???

roscoelovescoco Yeah's they'res from's dad's 🌻☺️

user13 OH MY GOD ROSCOE HIIII

user12 Can't believe Lewis Hamilton replied to my comment as his dog 😭

user13 lol user12 u really won life xd

user14 this is sooo cuteee 😻

user15 You and Alex look so good together! Hope you'll be friends forever!

kellypiquet where's the bag from? it's so pretty! 😍🤍

yourusername idk lew gave it to me for christmas last year... i'll ask and let u know!! 🤍🫶

kellypiquet 🫶

user16 The queens of the paddock right here 🙌

user17 still can't believe y/n & lewis are going to be parent in a few months

user18 RIGHT?! It's like a fever dream for me 😭

user19 Yeah i was excited for dad Lewis so long that now I can't believe it's finally happening 🤭❤️

user20 the best wag right here

user21 and soon the best mum!

user22 Ur STUNNING 😭💖

user23 Woman 💅

user24 proud to say i never hated on Y/N

user25 YES

user26 always knew she's the queen 👸💗

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by naomischiff, gigihadid, susie_wolff, riabish and 2,452,906 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton My beautiful Barbie. The love of my life. My partner for good times and bad times. Mother of my child. The only woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Y/N Y/L/N. 💖💫

view all 31,274 comments

yourusername can't describe in words how much i love u lew!!! 💖💫

lewishamilton Love you too darling, so much!

user1 I can't 😭

user2 i wanna have what they have

user3 THE BEST COUPLE EVER

user4 if they ever break up love isn't real

user5 I'll tell my children they are the original Barbie & Ken

user6 my parents 🥰

user7 y'all don't understand how much i love them

user8 The best parents ever!!!!

roscoelovescoco Mums looking's gorgeous 🥹☀️

lewishamilton She in fact is.

yourusername my boys making me cry 🥹💓

roscoelovescoco Oh's no's mums don't cry's 🙁

yourusername don't worry baby it's happy tears 💞

user9 now I'm crying too... this is so sweet

user10 The reason they're my favs😍

user11 why is this so precious 😭😭

user12 so prettyyyy

kellypiquet Our Barbie looking like a goddess!💅🏻💝

liked by the author

yourusername thx kelly!!!💕

user13 she's fr glowing 😻

user14 Thought she can't get more beautiful than she was before but pregnancy proved me wrong

user15 MARRY HER

user16 we love bf lewis dedicating whole post to y/n 🤭🤭

voguemagazine 🤩📸

user17 ariana what are u doing here?!??!!

user18 Even Vogue is an Y/N fan and we love it

user19 y'all don't understand how bad i need her to be on the cover of vogue or some other magazine 😩

user20 OMG user19 SHE WOULD SLAY IT TOO HARD

user21 You should marry her now!!! 💍💍

liked by roscoelovescoco

user22 heyyy did someone else see lewis like it and then un-like it?!😧

user21 When the notification of roscoelovescoco liking my comment came up on my phone I nearly dropped it and screamed... like what? Excuse me sir!!! 😃

user23 LOL I love how he goes savage liking comments w his dog's account and then regrets it immediately xd

user24 guuuyyyssss what if it means we'll get proposal soon???☺️

user21 I wish!!!!

twitter

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you for reading it to the end! I'll be very grateful for likes, comments, reblogs and every other sign of support. Also you can let me know if you think baby Hamilton will be a girl or boy 🤭. Have a great weekend! (Btw if someone wants to talk about their predictions for Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, they're welcomed bcs I don't have anyone to talk to about it XD)

Taglist: @namgification @hc-dutch @bloodyymaryyy @nat-lh-44 @cosmoscoffeee @daniellef89x @xoscar03 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @nathalielovesonedirection @raizelchrysanderoctavius @leclerc16s @carpediem241108 @onecojg (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #x reader #fanfiction #reading #fanfic #couple #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lh44 x reader #lh44 #team lh44 #pregnancy #pregnant #saudi arabia grand prix #love #taglist #sir lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #barbie #twitter #f1 smau #smau #social media fic #social media au #social media

[themattgirl]

could you please make one where Chris and reader are dating and reader feels sick and Chris just takes care of her and acts all sweet and stuff? 🫠

an: thank you for the request ily 🧡

this turned out so much longer than i intended

this isn’t my first one shot but it’s the first with one of the sturniolo triplets in it. 

obviously their characters have been altered by me a little to fit into the story but i tried to make it as realistic as possible by keeping their personality traits as they are in real life.

also comment or like this post if you want to be added to the taglist

pairing: chris x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fluff, use of ‘babe’ and ‘ma’ as pet names for reader, intentional wrong spelling in text messages to make it more realistic, mentions of nsfw themes, swearing, lots of playful teasing between characters

y/n’s dialogue  

chris’ dialogue

matt’s dialogue

nick’s dialogue

mary lou’s dialogue

“it’s just a cold, nothing serious i promise. i don’t think i can come over today though, i don’t wanna infect any of you. i’m sorry for ruining movie night,” i say to chris on facetime before breaking into a cough. i turn the camera away from me, not wanting him to see me in a disgusting state like this. if i could, i would’ve muted myself so he doesn’t have to listen to it either. plus, i know how worried he gets with any type of sickness or unwell feeling really.

so, of course it wouldn’t be chris if he didn’t immediately furrow his brows.

“babe no, don’t apologize. you didn’t choose to get sick.”

he gets up from where he was sitting on the couch and goes downstairs to his bedroom. he puts the phone down so all i can see now is his ceiling. his voice sounds a little farther away when he speaks again, “it doesn’t really sound like nothing serious, does anything hurt?”

“to be honest, my whole body has been aching since i woke up this morning. it’s not too bad, just a dull ache, i can still move and all that, even if i’d prefer to just lay here and rot away,” i laugh and hold back the cough that wants to escape right after in hopes it would make him worry a little less. vainly.

“your voice sounds stuffy and kinda hoarse, does your throat hurt?”

“i forgot you turn into a doctor every time somebody doesn’t feel great,” i roll my eyes even though he can’t see it with his phone still down and him on the other side of the room from how distant his voice sounds.

“shut up, y/n. you feel worse than ‘not great’. you’re not fooling anyone with that act.”

he reappears on the screen. now i can see what he has been doing in the time i couldn’t see him. he put on a hoodie over the tank top he had been wearing before, the hair he had put up in a little ponytail - if you could even call it that - in the front has been untied and brushed. or maybe he just ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times, that’d be more like it.

“anyways baby, imma call mom real quick. be right back,” he hangs up before i get the chance to respond.

i put the phone down next to me on the bed i’ve been in since i realized this morning how much it hurt to stand up and how i felt like i was gonna throw up every time i moved too hastily.

i took a deep breath - well, as deep as a breath can get when your nose is clogged - and closed my eyes to try and concentrate on something other than the throbbing pain in my head.

i feel so much worse than how i described it to chris and i feel bad for kind of lying to him, i do. but he has been dealing with so much of his own lately - new designs for his brand, fixing the shipping issues with some of the orders from his last drop, coming up with video ideas and prefilming those before him, nick and matt go on tour again, preparing everything for said tour - see, he really doesn’t need me to add to his things-to-worry-about-list, especially if he can’t do anything to fix it and it’ll go away on its own anyway.

i feel my phone’s vibration from somewhere in between the sheets and grab it. it's messages from nick.

hey y/n heard your not feeling so good (:/ smiley) i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

hope you feel better soon tho

matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday

I hey y/n heard your not feeling so good 😕 i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

word spreads faaast 😂 i’m so sad i gotta wait another week or so to see you again i only like sleepovers cuz of u but dont tell chris 🤫

I i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

seriously i hate that yk me so well 😐

I its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

at first i was like 🤨 but then i kept reading i LOVE YOUU SO MUCH OMG just so yk chris was the second option

I hope you feel better soon tho

me too now i’m excited for the pajamaaas 😫

I matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday 🤔

i’m gonna kill him like fr this time

hey where tf is chris??

talking to mom shes teaching him sth honestly don’t ask idk

ok 😂 i think im gonna take a nap talk later?

yess get some rest and lmk if you need anything ❤️

ly❤️❤️

after sending the last message i get a call from matt. i contemplate not picking up for a second but decide against it.

“what?”

“uff, what’s that attitude?”

“i’m sick because of you, shithead.”

“we don’t know that. what if you’re the one who passed it on to me, hm? besides, i was just calling to tell you to drink some water and to ask if you need anything. i was actually being nice but you clearly don’t deserve it,” his voice is just as bad as mine, if not worse which makes me feel a little bad, but matt wouldn’t be one of my best friends if i had to worry about him getting mad every time i’m not nice. that’s actually how we bonded after annoying each other every chance we got. we both have a bit of an attitude problem which caused a lot of irritation and aggravation. now we get along better than any pair of best friends. the teasing stayed in place, but now we both know there’s only endless love behind it. sometimes you just gotta let off a bit of steam and we both just get that.

“fine, i’m sorry. sickness really does turn you soft, huh?” i smirk.

“why’re you saying it like you just confirmed a theory?”

“mary lou told me once and i’ve been waiting ever since to see for myself, guess she was right.”

“you are actually the worst. i’m hanging up now. drink water, bye.”

he hangs up the phone and i laugh to myself. what a big baby.

i open chris’ chat and type in a message telling him i’m going to sleep and that i will call him once i wake up again. i don’t bother waiting for a reply and just put the phone on my nightstand. i turn on my side, close my eyes and after that i don’t notice anything anymore.

i jolt up from bed, breathing heavy, body sweaty and heart racing. my room is dark, lit up only by the moon shining through my window. i look around trying to remember where i am and shake the nightmare from my mind.

i reach for my phone and check the time.

11:43 pm

i turn on the flashlight and right when i notice a black jacket hung over the back of my desk chair i hear footsteps coming closer.

chris pushes the door open and steps in.

“oh shit, did i wake you?”

“no i had a nightmare. what are doing here?”

i sit upright in bed and turn the flashlight off when chris flips the switch to turn on the fairy lights around the edges of my ceiling.

he moves to sit on the bed next to me before he answers, “i had mom teach me how to make her get-well-quick-soup and brought you some. she also told me about the perfect remedy tea, i can make it for you,” he stands up again immediately, “i’ll heat up the soup for you first. shit ma, have you even eaten anything today?” he stands by the door, holding the handle but looking back over his shoulder at me.

“chris,” i honestly don’t know what to say to him. he is so sweet i have to fight the tears that build up on my waterline. i just look at him for a moment, a little smile ghosting on my lips.

i’m well aware of how caring, considerate and compassionate chris is as a person in general, but it still baffles me sometimes how much he goes out of his way to make others feel good. i guess i’m just not used to it, being loved like this, having someone do everything that lies in their hands - and beyond that - just for me. it’s astonishing to say the least. especially when i myself have had issues with showing how deeply i cherish somebody ever since i can remember. it’s probably rooted somewhere in my past and how my affection has been received and responded to, that’s what my therapist says anyway.

i shake myself out of my thoughts and move the blanket away from my body to finally get up. immediately chris is beside me, holding me in place, “what’re you doing, ma? stay here i’ll bring it up,” he talks quietly, trying to get me to take in my previous lying position but i stay put on the ground.

“babe, i have been in this bed almost all day. i need to get up. i’ll just come down with you, we can eat together in the kitchen,” i try to convince him.

he looks at me, an uncertain expression on his face for a few seconds, the gears in his head almost visibly turning while he thinks about it. at last he lets out a sigh and nods, “alright then, hop on my back,” he bends over in a piggy back position in front of me and i can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“you do know i can walk, right?” i ask still chuckling.

“i know, come ooon, just do it,” he urges me on and wiggles his hips, making me laugh even harder when i climb on his back.

“you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow, chris,” i complain mournfully once he lets me down to sit on the kitchen counter while he gets to heating up the soup he brought.

chris insists he’s not prone to catch a cold or any sickness easily, no matter how contagious or how close to the source he might be, even though he has proven himself wrong multiple times on more occasions than he cares to admit.

“no i won’t. besides, i could use a few days off even if i have to be sick to get that,” he lets out a huff of air trying to make it sound humorous, but both of us - and everyone who knows chris for that matter - knows that he is exhausted and is in desperate need of a break.

i know he doesn’t want me to get serious about that topic right now though so i try to change routes, “oh my god,” he turns around from where he was stirring the soup on the stove and faces me, confused about my shocked exclamation. i point an accusatory finger at him, my jaw hanging low but a smile still creeping it’s way on my face.

“so that’s why you’re here. you came to try and get infected, that’s why you carried me down too even though you know damn well i coulda walked by myself. and i’m here thinking you were actually being the best boyfriend on earth. turns out my man is a piece of shit,” by the end i fail to stay serious and let out a giggle. well, it’s not like he actually believed that i meant what i was saying but still.

he lets go of everything he was holding, turns around to me fully and begins to stalk toward me slowly.

“oh yeah?” i don’t know if it’s just me or if he’s doing it on purpose but all of a sudden his voice sounds deeper, his face more stern and serious.

“is that what you think then? i’m just a piece of shit?” he makes me nervous at first but the second i see the smirk on his lips i know exactly what’s about to follow.

“chris. no.”

he is standing right in front of me, so close he has positioned himself in between my legs, his hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me. the finger i was pointing at him long since taken back.

“am i a piece of shit when i make you cum with just my tongue?” his face is so close now.

“stop,” i say quieter than i mean to, almost whisper-like.

“or when i fuck you so good you can’t walk right for days, am i a piece of shit then?”

this asshole is doing it on purpose. he knows i would never have sex with him when i’m sick so he’s trying to rile me up the little fucker. have i mentioned that i actually hate him. like for real hate him. the type of hate that leads to an absolutely mindblowing fuck. shit.

“or yesterday when you told matt you needed a break and came downstairs to my room to suck me off and then you just wiped your mouth and went back up like nothing happened. did you do it because i’m a piece of shit?”

my jaw is on the floor.

“or when–”

“OKAY,” i practically scream, “you’re the best and i didn’t mean what i said, just please stop.”

i’m almost whining at this point.

i try to rub my legs together to ease some of the friction unnoticeably but chris is like a hawk, sees everything, notices everything. and then he smiles. just smiles and goes back to the soup.

later that night, after i was forced to eat almost all of the soup and drink two cups of magic tea while chris downed a cheese burger, fries and three of the last four pepsi cans i had in my fridge, we snuggled up on the couch with a heavy blanket that chris had also asked his mom for, thrown over both of our laps and a random movie playing on the tv. 

neither one of us actually felt like watching something but we threw it on as background noise anyway. chris and i have barely seen each other in almost two weeks so all we want right now is to enjoy each other's company. he has been so busy with all that’s coming up for him and his brothers, still is. and i've been studying like crazy because i always feel like i won’t pass if i don’t and when i wasn’t busy with that i’d be at work to earn my living and feel like i’m doing enough. so there wasn't really time for us to actually be together and get to enjoy it. i've missed it.

“you know you’re probably sick because you exhaust yourself all the time,” chris says when he turns to look at me.

“shh,” i shush him with my eyes closed and a smile on my lips, “i got it from matt, no discussion.”

he lets out a little laugh at that, “yes discussion. if you keep going like that, one day it’s gonna have more serious effects on your health than a cold. you don’t even need to do all that. how many times do i have to tell you your life is worth enough even if you don’t work yourself half to death and have a little fun every once in a while,” he rubs my thigh while talking. chris knows better than anyone that i don’t like being put on the spot and lectured about my not-so-healthy habits like that, especially when i know exactly that it’s in fact very unhealthy. but he also insists on having these talks with me because he knows i would shut out everyone else who’d dare to try immediately. he and his brothers are the only three people i have let come so close and they make use of that quite often, might i say. but it’s okay because these people are my best friends and i know i need to be put in check sometimes, i admit. nobody else would dare try but them so i just let them. 

i must say, it has helped me improve my life to an extent. they taught me that it’s okay to cut ties with people who are bad for my mental health and encourage bad habits, and that i don’t owe shit to them even if they want to make me believe that. they kept telling me “quality friends are worth so much more than a big amount of bad ones” until it finally clicked in my brain and i blocked half of my contact list.

“look who’s talkin’. mister i work twice as hard as the person i try to lecture,” i jab my finger in his side and he jerks.

“you know that’s different,” he holds my hands in his to stop me from doing it again.

i like feeling his hands on mine. i know he’s my boyfriend and it might be weird to say it like that. but i haven’t seen him in so long, which means i also haven’t felt him in so long. it’s crazy but it almost feels like in the beginning when we were scared to touch each other and would act like we accidentally brushed our hand on the other but we both knew it was fully on purpose.

chris pulls me out of my thoughts again when he speaks, “at least i have an end in sight and work’s gonna be way more relaxed once i’m done with everything. with you there’s always–”

the ringing of his phone cuts him off and he takes a look at the caller id, his mom. he narrows his eyes at me and gives me a look that says “we’re not done yet” but picks up the phone and holds it up so she can see the both of us on the screen.

“i was going to ask chris about you but since you’re with him please pinch him for me,” is the first thing mary lou says when she looks at us. and i gladly do as she says even though i don't know what he did to deserve it.

“oww, what was that for?” chris asks whining and i just shrug and chuckle.

“you told me you would bring y/n the soup and go back home. you lied to me.”

i turn to him with my mouth hanging open, “christopher owen, how dare you?”

it’s so fun to aggravate chris.

he furrows his brows at me and then looks back at the screen, “she literally begged me,” he straight up lies. “i was trying to tell her i didn’t wanna get sick so i could only drop off the soup and blanket and would have to leave again but then she started crying–”

i hit him for real this time, hard enough to make him suck air through his teeth.

“mary lou, don’t believe a word he says.”

“i know, darling, you wouldn’t do that. chris, that’s twice you’ve lied today.”

“sorry, mom,” he actually looks defeated now, “you know i can’t just leave her all alone when she’s like this. i lied because i didn’t wanna worry you. i won’t get sick though,” at that me and her give each other a knowing look but let him continue, “y/n’s weak and in pain, of course i’ll be by her side as much as i can, you probably knew i was here, that’s why you called me,” chris wiggles his finger at his mom with a cheeky smile while she’s trying to hide her own.

“alright, alright,” she gives in, “that’s how young love is, i guess. anyway, have you eaten the soup yet?”

“almost all of it,” i report proudly, rubbing my stomach.

“only forced,” chris side-eyes me and i roll my eyes at him.

“and the tea?” mary lou just keeps going. well, i definitely know where her son gets the caring from.

i grab the mug that’s been sitting on the table for two hours and could now be considered iced tea and hold it up for her to see, “this is my third,” i take a sip.

“very good. okay, well, i just wanted to check if chris is taking good care of you. it’s important for you to get enough rest, don’t go to sleep too late, alright darling? i have to go now but if you need something just give me a call. i’ll talk to you both in the morning. good night, i love you,” she blows two kisses as we tell her we love her and then she ends the call.

right when chris puts his phone down we hear the doorbell ring.

we both glance at the direction of the front door as if we could see through it and figure out who’s standing on the other side. then we turn and look at each other.

“expecting someone?” chris asks me and i just shake my head no and shrug unknowingly.

“open up!” the voice sounds muffled but it’s unmistakably matt.

chris rolls his eyes and sighs loudly and i just giggle.

he moves the blanket and gets up to go open the door but stops in his tracks suddenly, turns around again, bends down and kisses me.

“won’t be able to do that for a while if he’s here,” he explains before he goes.

matt and nick do complain every time we kiss in front of them, so we agreed on trying not to do it anymore. they act like little kids being forced to see their parents being all lovey-dovey with each other. at least one of them always yells “GET A ROOM!” as if they’re not invading our personal space. big babies, like i said.

“what’s up, bitches?” nick walks in wearing the pajamas we wanted to match, holding up his hands. one holding what i assume is my set of the exact same one and a pillow in his other hand.

i jump up from the couch immediately and squeal as i run toward him to hug him.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once we let go of each other, our smiles still as big as ever.

“since chris is here breathing in germs and this one,” he points his thumb over his shoulder where matt is giving chris a pajama pair, “is already sick i thought we might as well have our movie night here since i’m getting it from one of you either way.”

“i’m so happy,” i squeak, elongating the words.

“aren’t you happy to see me too?” matt acts sad and offended when he moves to stand next to nick.

i roll my eyes but give him a big hug, “i am actually.”

chris scoffs and we all laugh. he moves to stand closer to me and i wrap my arms around him, tilting my head to look at him.

“you guys can go in the kitchen, grab some snacks while me and chris put on our pajamas,” i say to nick and matt, my eyes still locked on my boyfriend.

they do as they’re told once the’ve put down their things and soon enough they’re out of sight.

“you good?” chris asks me quietly, stroking my hair gently

“yeah. i just realized our alone time is over,” i respond in a hushed tone.

he gives me a kiss on the forehead before he talks, “it’s okay, we’ll just go up to your room when they’re asleep. nothing’s keeping me away from you tonight.”

hearing it makes comfort spread in my chest in a way i didn’t know i needed right now.

“i love you so much, chris. thank you for everything,” i try to sound genuine, because i truly am.

he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger and dips his head until his lips meet mine.

“i love you too, ma.”

taglist:

@strniolosworld @that-general-simp @sturniolosreads @whoreforchr1s

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic

[lovebugism]

hi angel! I have a little fictober request … can I pls get holding hands for the first time from the prompt list with steve harrington and shy!reader? maybe they’re in a busy place and steve doesn’t want to lose r so he grabs her hand, not realising how ridiculously flustered she gets <3333

ty for requesting angel :D this can be read as a part two to this fic!

summary: steve takes you to a mall in the city in a desperate attempt to spend time with you, fending off freaks, douchebags, and your anxious tendencies alike (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers cw for mentions of anxiety, 3.5k)

fictober leftovers (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve idles between the X-rated horror and thriller sections for several long minutes until he works up the courage to talk to you. You’re a pretty little thing behind the counter, hand in your palm as you scribble into the journal Keith threatened to confiscate from you earlier that morning.

He’s never been this nervous to talk to you. Things are different now. Post-first date, and Steve’s still toeing that wretched line between friends and something more. The puppy love is so painfully mutual, but it’s equally hard to navigate. He can’t come on too strong — not with someone as soft as you — but he’s still got some King Steve left in him. He’s still learning how to be gentle.

With sweaty hands, he walks up to the counter and tries to be subtle about the whole thing. Stealthy, like a ninja. He leans on his folded-up arms and blurts before he means to, “So you’re, like, totally coming tomorrow, right?”

You lift your chin and blink at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t heard him come over, too busy doodling a bunch of nothingness in your notebook. Your stomach whirls at the sight of him. It takes you a moment too long to answer.

“Coming… where?”

“To the mall,” he reminds, then corrects himself with a shrug. “The one in the city— not the shithole we have here.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— I don’t know,” you stammer. Steve invited you earlier that week, and you promised to think about it. You did. And you want so desperately to go, but your brain’s too mean, and it just won’t let you.

The disappointment that flashes on his face is fleeting, but you don’t miss it. The hurt softens his features in an unbearable way. It makes your chest ache.

“C’mon,” Steve presses in a gentle lilt. He leans closer to you, eyes twinkling and lips curling. “It could be fun, you know? I mean, everyone’s gonna be there.”

He’s trying his best to persuade you. He has no idea that that’s exactly what’s keeping you from going. Crowds are always stress-inducing, even those of the familiar kind.

“Everyone as in…?”

“Robin, obviously. Dustin, too,” Steve answers, counting on his fingers as he goes. “Max is coming, but Lucas has a basketball thing, so he can’t. And the rest of the little shits are in California, so that’s definitely a plus.”

It’s a dumb joke, but it makes you laugh anyway — a quiet giggle of a thing that makes him grin.

“Uh… Eddie’s coming, too, I think— but don’t let that dissuade you, alright? I promise I’ll protect you from that freak. You don’t have to worry about him.”

You smile because you know he’s joking. You’ve met Eddie a couple times now. He’s always been really sweet to you. Him and Steve just have a strange complex that forces them to be assholes to each other.

“And also, I’m gonna be there. Obviously. So…” he trails off with a wavering smile. So if you don’t wanna come for them, maybe you can come for me, is what he’s really trying to tell you.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, quieter now as you shrink into yourself. You try and fail to meet Steve’s honeyed gaze. “I just feel like I’ll make everything all weird.”

His bushy brows pinch, almost in offense that you’d think you’re anything less than totally perfect. “Why would you think that?”

“‘Cause… I don’t know,” you murmur in a quiet sigh. You don’t want to lie to him, but telling the truth feels so much harder. “They don’t really know me, you know? And I feel like… like I’ll just ruin everything if I’m there…”

It takes Steve a couple of seconds to answer you. He doesn’t know how you could say something that — like you don’t light up every room you’re in. “Well, that’s… that’s just not true,” he argues with a shrug. “They like you. They love you, actually— they just wanna get to know you. And the only way they’re gonna get to know you is if you come hang out every once in a while.”

Your heart flutters. You want to believe him. It’s hard for you to comprehend that anyone could care so much about your presence, so you just nod and don’t say anything further. 

Steve is quick to comfort you, almost like he can read your mind. “But if you think it’s gonna be too much, you could always just stick with me. I’ll fend off the freaks for you, no problem.”

His cinnamon eyes glimmer with honey. He looks at you far too fondly to say no.

—————

There’s six of you crammed into Steve’s 733i. It’s already a tight fit, but it’s more suffocating when it’s full of a million different conversations. Almost all of them are pointed your way. Steve tries to bat everyone off of you, but it’s hard to yell at everyone and drive at the same time.

You’re being a pretty good sport about it despite how anxiously helpless you feel. 

You wring your clammy hands in your lap and try to regulate your bated breaths, nodding to whatever Max is telling you. It’s hard to hear her because Eddie’s talking to you, too. You’re too scared he’ll think you’re mean if you stop him.

You watch Robin reach for the radio, complaining about all the yelling as she turns up the volume. The cheesy pop song is all you can hear. The conversations around you become a monotone buzzing. You feel like you could just about explode.

“Jesus, you guys are acting like you’ve never seen another person before,” Steve shouts over it all, the only definite thing you can understand. “Let her breathe before she thinks we’re all a bunch of lunatics, alright?”

He’s met with a bunch of muffled complaints, but the noise quietens nonetheless.

Steve glances at you in the rearview, a quick check to make sure you’re still okay. You catch him doing it and try your best to give him a smile. It looks more like a wince.

“Well, it’s your fault for finally bringing someone cool around,” Max argues with all her practiced teenaged ambiguity. “I have to spend all day surrounded by freaks— at least now there’s someone halfway normal to talk to.”

“I’m normal!” Steve insists, face twisted in offense.

“You’re a jock.”

“Hey. C’mon, Red,” Eddie scolds, so obviously playful. “Let’s not go throwing the j-word around—”

The brunette boy huffs. “Thank you!”

“—Jock would imply that Steve’s still cool,” the wild-haired boy continues. “Which he isn’t.”

Poorly hidden laughter fills the small car. Steve nods and mutters beneath it all, “Yeah. Okay. Thanks for the clarification, Munson.”

He glances at you again and finds you cracking a halfway sincere smile. He shoots you a light-hearted glare. “Don’t laugh! You’re just encouraging him!”

“Sorry,” you apologize, hiding your giggle behind your fist. “’M sorry.”

Steve smiles at you, silently tells you he doesn’t really mean it. He’d let Musnon make fun of him all day if he thought it meant he’d get to hear you laugh like that again.

—————

You take your first good breath in an hour when you step out of the car. 

Steve shuts it off and gravitates towards you on instinct. His honey eyes are wide as they dart across your flustered features. You see his hands reach towards you, to grab your elbows maybe, but he decides against it.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, quicker than you mean to. “I’m good.”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I really tried to—”

“I know,” you cut him off with a sweet, still quiet smile. “It’s still okay.”

He sighs heavy, like a deep breath of relief. “Okay. Good,” he hums, almost to himself, nodding with a pink grin you could stare at all day. He would’ve let you, but neither of you get the chance. 

Your friends start messing around, and the chaos melts into the buzzing crowd surrounding you, and you realize the two of you aren’t the only people on earth. Bummer.

You gather around the large map at the entrance of the bustling mall. “Where should we go first?” Dustin chirps from the front of the crowd. His eyes are as wide as his smile. “Game Player? Sam Goody? Oh, look— they have a RadioShack! I’ve been looking for a new supercomm. It’s on the other side of the  building, though, but we can just work our way around, I guess—”

“Jesus, Dusty-Bun,” Robin interjects with a gritty laugh. She stands on the outside of the group, arms crossed over her chest, effortlessly too cool for it all. “Take a breath, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that!” the boy gripes over his right shoulder.

Steve shrugs. “Go wherever you want to. I don’t care.”

Dustin looks to his left, shooting the older boy a glare. “Aren’t you supposed to be the babysitter?”

“You’re fourteen!”

“Well, what if I get kidnapped?”

“No one’s kidnapping you, alright? Trust me,” Steve jokes, only smiling when he sees you trying to hide yours. He puts his hands on his waist and cocks his hip to the side. “They’ll send you right back where you came from. You have nothing to worry about.”

Dustin squints. “Rude.”

“We’ll just meet back at the food court in, like, two hours. And if you don’t get yourself killed, you’ll be fine,” Steve reasons with a nonchalant shrug and a jutted-out lip.

“Oh. Wow. Thanks, Steve. What would I ever do without you?”

He rolls his cinnamon eyes at the boy’s monotone. “Alright, smartass.”

When the rest of the group dissipates, he leans over to nudge your shoulder. It knocks you from your stupor — so deep in your own head you were practically drowning. You blink at him with wide, glassy eyes. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna go anywhere?” he asks with a wavering smile. His laugh is equally forced. “You’re kinda staring a hole into the map there…”

“Oh. No. I was just…” you trail off with a shake of your head. You’re not entirely sure what to tell him, how to make him understand your easily overstimulated mind. “I was just distracted. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. No big deal.”

“Where did everyone else go?” you wonder with a furrow to your brow, noticing the lack of familiar chaos around you.

“Eddie and Dustin went to some movie store, and I think Robin and Max are on the hunt for cassettes.”

“Okay...” you nod with a tremble in your voice. 

You’re still not totally used to being alone with Steve. Your friends are usually good distractions. They fill your awkward silences with something funnier and talk loud when you get too quiet. When they’re not around it’s just… awkward silences and quiet air. 

You get too in your own head, so eager to impress the pretty boy beside you, that you end up putting your foot in your mouth.

Steve doesn’t seem nearly as apprehensive. Instead, he’s beaming at the fact that he’s finally got you alone. He doesn’t have to worry about quieting Dustin when he gets too loud or shoving Eddie away when he forgets what personal space is. It’s quieter with just the two of you — warmer, cozier, easier.

“Wanna go down to the food court?” he wonders, honey eyes sparkling when he looks your way. “I know you haven’t eaten anything yet, so…”

Your eyes narrow, accusing and playful. “How would you know that?”

“Uh, ‘cause I know you,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. “I basically have to force you to eat every morning.”

“That’s not true!”

“It so is!” Steve giggles and it’s heaven to your ears, the exact sound of honey. “That’s why I hate not opening with you. ‘Cause if I’m not around to force you to eat the other half of my Poptart, I’m just, like, worrying if you’re withering away or not.”

Your face burns hot. Your heart swells with a similar warmth that borders on painful. You didn’t think he cared so much about you — or that he ever thought about you outside of work or the occasional hangout.

“Fine,” you concede with your arms crossed over your chest, trying not to seem as flustered as you feel. “Let’s go to the food court.”

Steve grins. He follows you in stride when you start to head that way. “Cool. We can go get one of those disgustingly good burgers or something.”

“For breakfast?” you wonder with a light-hearted laugh.

“Yeah! Like, one of those crazy huge ones, you know? The patties are, like, the size of your fist— make a fist.”

You do. You ball your fingers and hold them up between you. Steve holds onto your wrist for further inspection, fingers long and warm and soft. You swallow.

“Bigger than your fist,” he corrects with a laugh. The sweet sound is drowned out by the swell of yelling teenagers. They talk so loudly and over one another that their conversations become a meaningless drones.

Two in particular shove at one another, laughing loud like it’s fun. One of them almost barrels into you — long blonde hair, tight shirt, tighter jeans, and cologne so potent it stings your nose. He just narrowly misses you, mostly because Steve’s there to yank you out of the way.

The boy’s gentle grip on you tightens. He pulls you close until you’re stumbling into his side. With a strong arm wrapped around you, he shouts at the roughhousing teens — “Watch where you’re going, assholes!”

The scrawny boys walk on ahead of you. They seem apologetic, halfway scared at first. When they realize Steve’s not rushing to beat their asses, they chuckle about the whole thing and keep punching each other.

You’re still frozen in shock — not so much of fear anymore, but of how tightly Steve’s holding onto you. It’s an embrace of the firmer kind, a touch so solid you feel immediately safer inside it. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close before. The teenage girl in your heart starts to spin.

“You okay?” Steve asks when the anger ebbs.

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing tightly and forcing an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to keep asking me that, you know?”

He nods rapidly, then notices how close he’s holding you. Fearful that he’s made you uncomfortable, he uncurls his arm from around you and takes a small step back. “No, I know! I just wanna— I just wanna make sure, you know? ‘Cause I know you don’t like… all this.”

He waves his hands vaguely out beside him.

You’re immediately cold without him holding you. You wrap your arms around yourself to compensate for the lack of him. 

“Yeah, but… It’s not the rest of the world’s fault that I’m scared of everything,” you say with another forced laugh, shifting your weight on your feet. If you could melt into your oversized sweater, you would. “It’s mine. So I can deal with it. I have to deal with it.”

Steve nods, slower this time and with a silent sense of understanding. He steps closer to you and shrugs. “I think the least I can do is make it a little easier on you… And I feel like I’ve been doing the exact opposite of that all day.”

“That’s not true,” you argue with the shake of your head.

His chocolate eyes widen. You’re rarely so assertive. “No?”

“No,” you answer, softer this time as you grow sheepish all over again. Your unsure gaze darts from your dirty sneakers to his twinkling eyes until it makes you dizzy. “You’re actually making it more bearable for me, so…”

“Oh. Okay. Good,” he nods with a smile, breathless because his chest is swelling with pride. He knows the world can be a little much for someone as soft as you. It’s good to know that he’s the exception to all that. 

He gets lost in the way you look at him for a moment too long. He clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, do you still wanna go get food?” he asks, pointing off beside him. “We can find somewhere quiet to eat so we don’t have to deal with teenage douchebags the entire time.”

Your heart lurches into your throat. It’s practically your love language — spending time alone in a quiet space, with no overt need for conversation or people to fill the void. 

You nod, trying and failing to hide the beam on your face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

—————

The quiet place in question is a photo booth on the halfway vacant, furthest end of the mall. Closed curtains, small spaces, and entwined breaths. It smells like his deep cologne, your perfume, and a freshly cooked meal. It’s too easy to forget that there’s a whole world outside of here.

You sit twisted on the bench, facing Steve with your burger trays in front of you. You pluck salty fries from the plate with a trembling hand, distantly fearful that you’re not supposed to be eating here. You think being so close to Steve is worth the risk.

“Is this the day you were expecting to have?” Steve asks with a lopsided grin. He takes a big bite of his burger right after and gets mustard on the corner of his mouth.

“No,” you answer, giggling as he swipes the stain away with his tongue. “But not because it’s bad.”

“Hm?” he hums to egg you on. He’s got too much of a mouthful for anything else.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, equally nonverbal as you chew on a handful of fry crumbs. You swipe your palms together to dispel the grains of salt. “I’m having more fun than I thought I would, actually.”

Steve scoffs in disbelief. “Spending time with me? Alone in a photo booth? That’s a good time to you?”

His tone makes you self-conscious. You feel a little shameful, like a child, because you don’t need much to be entertained. You get all warm with embarrassment, too. Being alone with Steve has always felt like climbing mountains — something short of an adrenaline rush that makes you think you could conquer the world. Maybe you’re too small in comparison to do the same for him.

“Yeah,” you shrug in an inaudible murmur. “I don’t know— I just… I like spending time with you, you know? I don’t really care what we’re doing.”

Steve’s chest swells. From a girl who too often keeps to herself, inherently nervous and incessantly frightened of being a burden, it’s more of a proclamation of love than he ever thought he’d get from you.

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he confesses with a crooked pink grin, internally praying his cheeks aren’t as red hot as they feel.

He holds his half-eaten burger out towards you. You knock yours with his, clinking them together like champagne glasses. He takes another too big bite. You go to do the same but get a whiff of the sleeve of your sweater before you can. 

“God, I smell like a teenage boy,” you groan, only half-playful. The nose-burning musk from the kid from before has seemingly stuck itself onto you. Like fruit and sage and wood and vanilla, every scent ever made combined.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you definitely smell like bodyspray,” Steve affirms, scruffy cheeks jutted out from the burger in his mouth.

“I think I’ve been tainted,” you giggle, a quieter sound compared to his boyish laughter. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

You’re saying it to be nice, but you watch him get all shy about it when you take a bite of your sandwich. He shifts on the bench, like he suddenly can’t get comfortable. When he rubs his palms on his thighs, you can’t tell if it’s because of the salty fries or because they’re clammy.

“Yeah— I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to grab you like that,” he stammers with an apologetic twinkle in his eye and a gaze that can’t quite meet yours. “Just so you know. I was just trying to—”

“Save me?” you interject.

Steve smiles when he sees how softly you’re looking at him. He shrugs. “Well, I was gonna say ‘pull you from the line of fire,’ but sure.”

“It’s okay,” you repeat for perhaps the thousandth time that day. “I didn’t mind. It felt nice, actually— you have really warm hands.”

“That’s ‘cause yours are always ice cold.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you’re not holding them,” you blurt before you mean to. 

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide in distant horror as your blood runs cold. In a desperate attempt to break away from the awkwardness you caused, you muster a trembling smile. “I’m kidding,” you murmur, halfway hidden behind your burger.

You weren’t.

Steve knows this, too, so he smiles. 

He’d been thinking about it all day, in truth — how he was gonna get to hold your hand without having to stick his foot in his mouth to ask you. Turns out, a series of unfortunate events and an impromptu date in a photo booth was all it took. And he’s grateful. For all of it.

“No, you weren’t,” he teases, fingers as warm as his smile when he wraps them around yours. He holds gently onto your hand — even though it makes eating a little harder, even though your fingers are cold, even though you tremble.

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

[xeeroo08]

Astro Observations 《1》

Disclaimer : I am not a professional astrologer. This post is only for fun and it is solely based on my observations and experiences. So, please take it with a grain of salt.

♠️ Taurus Mars 🤝 Anger issues. It's either a disaster or unhealthy suppression. No in between.

♠️ Mars-Neptune placements have some wide imagination when it comes to steamy stuff. It be going on in their heads 24/7! Also they might get frequent wet dreams. Infact on a side note they are quite looking forward to it when they go to sleep.

♣️ Mars in 4th house went through a lot of family trauma in childhood. It could be anything like daily arguments, abusive household, domestic violence etc.

♠️ Sagittarius venus and their frequent crushes. If influenced by Scorpio could be secretive as hell.

♠️ Jupiter–Saturn negatively aspected could indicate a hard academic life in the beginning but once you work on it, you will succeed with flying colors. My friend has her jupiter squaring saturn and she was always at the bottom in her class. But once she decided to put her mind into it, she became one of the toppers in our school.

♣️ Venus at 0° has no idea where to began with love. They want it but are clueless about what they actually want.

♠️ Sagittarius people love freedom. Speaking from personal experience, you don't want to tie them down by any means. Like Sagittarius moon hates being emotionally tied down by some melodrama. Don't even think about manipulating them they will run away know right away. Sagittarius venus hates being controlled in a relationship.

♣️ Virgo sun might tease their partner now and then after their night together just to see their reaction. You better blush🔪

♣️ Someone mentioned in their post that having jupiter in 2nd house in solar return chart could indicate buying a lot of books. It's true! I had it last year in my chart and omg I bought so many books in one year! Also I never faced any shortage of money that year so later when I calculated the expense, I was surprised. It's also funny because whenever I felt like, okay I want this book, in the next few days I would have it in my hands by some means. I was obsessed with books. Let it be study material or novels. I still have many novels that I bought last year but haven't read yet. Lol no regrets tho, I love books 📚

♠️ Moon conjuct pluto 🤝 love-hate relationship with their mothers. It's like— I can't live without you. The next moment—but if I die it will be only because of you. And it goes both the ways. I have this and trust me it hurts on a subconscious level.

♣️ Asteroid Actor conjuct moon could mean that when you act, you act flawlessly. No one could tell if you are acting or not. Emotions are always on point. It comes very natural to these people. If underdeveloped, could make sly manipulators, like a wolf under sheep's skin.

♠️ Scorpio MC people always have a strict control over their public image. They are not said to be mysterious just like that. You might think you have them figured out but there is always something going on in their lives which is unknown to the public. And if they don't want you to know about it, you will never know either.

♣️ Pluto in 11th house/Sagittarius/Aquarius could mean that you might have a wide variety of friends all over the world, through online or even through mutuals. But for some of you these people just come along and go. Or maybe you are the one who gets distant for some reason. They still remain good friends though, it's just that the sudden closure is gone. Plus they don't reveal every single secret to their friends. They know later it won't matter.

♣️ Venus conjuct/ Sextile/trine Mercury gives a very pleasant voice. These people should try applying in music industry.

♠️ Asteroid Skip in natal chart could indicate what all things you missed or neglected in your life. For example, in 6th house you could have neglected your health a lot to the point later it backfired. Or in Capricorn it could indicate that you skipped working.

♣️ Jupiter–AC people are very sharp minded. Especially if it's conjuction. They know how to turn the situation in their favour. They are also very versatile in nature, which makes them very well liked by people. Basically the All rounder placement.

♠️ Asteroid Scientia positively aspecting Jupiter/Sun/moon could mean you work good in science fields. Whereas if it's negatively aspected you might face a little difficulty in dealing with science majors and need more effors to put in. I have jupiter square scientia and I know exactly what I am talking about.

♣️ Asteroid Academia in 11th house/Aquarius could indicate changing many schools, colleges throughout your life or living in a hostel.

♠️ Aries risings are the most restless beings alive. They can't sit still for two minutes to save their lives! These people are very competitive when it comes to athletics, as for academics, they are okay with being average. Two of the people that I know who have this rising sign won gold medals during their school lives in sports competitions.

♣️ Mars conjuct MC or Mars in 10th house people are very dedicated and driven when it comes to their profession. They pursue their career with full potential.

#astrology #asteroid scientia #jupiter squar saturn #astro observations #zodiac signs #moon-pluto #moon conjuct pluto #aries rising #scorpio mc #asteroid skip #asteroid academia #Mars-Neptune #sagittarius venus #taurus mars #solar return #Asteroid actor

[the-s1lly-corner]

hello I hope ur request are open! If not be free to ignore this!! Okay so TADC x y/n? (The amazing digital circus also it can be muti characters or one!! The choice is yours!! ^ ^)

OKAY OKAY SO WHAT IF..🥁🥁🥁 y/n was like Jessica rabbit from "who framed roger rabbit" 👀 and was very like motherly to everyone but when she was called doll,/toots,/ect, by jax or anyone SHE WOULD PUNCH THEM HARDDDD (kinda like the lola bunny fanfic??) Also she is like one inch taller then jax (she a tall women👀❤️)

(HAVE FUN WITH THIS IDEA!! DONT RUSH YOURSELF TO DO IT TAKE UR TIME ON IT!! AND DRINKS LOTS OF WATER AND EAT FOOD!! HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY/NIGHT!!🫶🫶)

Digital Circus x a jessica rabbit-type reader!

since im a little melty brain from blasting through a bunch of requests today im going to do part of the cast! mostly characters i think would be interesting with this kind of reader as well as some characters i just wanna write more of (cough cough kinger cough cough)(i was originally going to do gangle as well but uhuh!!) ...this reminds me ive never watched who framed roger rabbit... or rather i have, but its been so long that ive truly forgotten nearly every aspect of the movie relying on the character wiki talking about her personality to guide me through this

CAINE:

caines and jax's parts are both likely going to be on the shorter side thanks to both of their cores holding similar themes in regards to half of the idea

anyways he's going to call you pet names, especially if he's interested in you.. good luck trying to land anything on him, though, he's going to easily zoom through the air

okay nod to the lola bunny request aside, i think caine would be just head (jaw?) over heels for you, i mean, he would be anyways, but something about your caring and quick witted personality

probably makes literal heart eyes at you and audibly goes "awooga"

absolutely loves watching you do your thing during the in house adventures, on the few times he actually spectates them; though you may or may not be the reason he watches

seems like the kind of person to call you "hot stuff" or "babe"

doesn't really care about the height difference since he rarely ever stands on the ground anyways, plus he doesn't care how small he is

JAX:

to get a good idea of how jax would interact with you, i recommend this similar post! hope this links correctly, im still new to linking stuff in my posts!!

a lot of elements from the post above bleed into this, but lets add some more to it to make it a little more unique to the jessica rabbit idea!

takes it upon himself to try to get some sort of reaction out of you, outside of the name stuff... which proves to be a little harder than he thought.. actually, oddly enough, you seem to enjoy his antics?

well thats certainly new to him...

aaaaaand oh! hey would you look at that you've officially caught his attention, congratulations!

does not take too kindly to being the new second tallest, though... sure you're barely taller than him but its the principle! how can he lord his height over everyone else now!

KINGER:

so here's where i may be biased since i love kinger and i wish more people wrote for him, so his part may be a little longer, we'll see! i write these lil notes as i work on the post

right away i dont think he would call you any of the petnames listed above, or anything similar. i think, should you guys get on a nickname basis he would call you sweeter ones, "my love," "my darling", "my sweetheart", and similar stuff!

does not have lightning reflexes like jax and caine but if the names genuinely do bother you he would likely stop, you'll just have to remind him

imma be so real this man needs someone to stand back and just be there for him because he is going through it, so to have someone in his corner who has his best interests at heart will really do a lot for him

no comment on the height difference since kinger is pretty tall himself (and hes taller than jax! the only reason jax isnt upset about that is because kinger is always hunched), but i dont think he gives a darn about height

i am once again thinking about the in house adventure prompt with kinger that i had earlier, where he gets stuck somewhere and you have to go rescue him... this + that prompt, JUMPS UP N DOWN

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x you #caine x reader #caine imagine #jax x reader #jax imagine #jax x you #kinger x reader #kinger x you #kinger imagine

[ciaraswritings]

Hello can I ask a work from you? :) Maybe Batmom pranks Bruce and the boys (plus steph and cassie) where she goes in labor. By like just putting water on the floor. It’s super chaotic and they all end up slipping on it. She doesn’t tell them it’s a prank until their halfway to the hospital and it’s just super chaotic and funny. Tysm!

Batprank

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Pregnancy, water breaking, pranking, mentions of sexual intercourse, romantic scenes between a married couple. This is not suitable for younger readers. 18+.

Word Count: 2.5K words

Summary: Batmom!reader decides to try out a prank that she found on social media.

Author's Note: Great story idea, anon. Posting this ten minutes before leaving for work, I'm not even dressed yet. So if there are typos or mistakes I'll come back later and edit them out. Don't have bad time management, kids. I hope everyone reading is safe and well, and I hope you all enjoy.

Part Two

Sunday afternoons could only be described one way in this household. Long and lazy, sometimes excruciatingly so. I was scrolling on my favorite social media app again, watching short videos. If Bruce were laying with me, he'd say I was doom scrolling. He often discouraged the kids and I from this practice of scrolling through short videos for hours on end, but there was hardly anything else to do on an afternoon like this. 

I cradled my swollen stomach, one hand resting over my navel, the other propping my phone on the bed. Inside my womb, I could feel flutters of movement, vibrations moving through my stomach. Pausing the video I was watching, I looked down at my stomach. The baby I was carrying had woken and was pushing against the front of my tummy. "Ouch. I know you're just stretching, but you have to wait to come out, little one." I returned my attention to the video of directions on how to fold towels to look like birds. 

My thumb swiped mindlessly over the screen for several more minutes. My brain wasn't really processing anything of what I was seeing. I was mainly focused on the baby's movements, feeling her stretch and kick, thinking about the cradle that Dick and Jason had put together for their little sister several weeks before and how it would soon have a newborn in it. Thinking about the songs I was going to sing to her at night. Thinking about seeing Bruce hold her for the first time. 

After about ten recommended videos that didn't interest me, I got ready to close the app. I might as well do something more useful with my time. As I swiped to view one last video, the picture of a pregnant woman caught my eye. I watched with interest as she emptied a bottle of water onto the floor next to a flight of stairs, before keeling over clutching her stomach and calling a man's name, along with the news that her water had broken. Much to my amusement, her partner came rushing down the stairs, slipping on the water and sliding across the floor on his backside. I couldn't help but chuckle. It was a good prank, though probably staged, as most pranks on this app tend to be at some level. Would this actually work? I wondered to myself. I closed the app on my phone before pressing the power button to darken the screen. Standing up wasn't my favorite, but I wanted to go see what my husband was up to.

I moved down the stairs cautiously, using the handrail. Falling could damage the organs that kept the baby safe, which is why Bruce had suggested moving to a bedroom on the first floor until she arrived. We hadn't done that yet, but it wasn't the worst idea. Anything to keep little Ava safe. Or Emma. Or something. Over the last seven months, Bruce and I had both been advocating for our own choice of name for the baby. Not that it would matter once we were finally able to hold her in our arms. 

Once I had descended down the first flight of stairs, I happened to look back at the steps behind me. It reminded me of the short video I had watched a couple minutes before. I wondered again if the prank actually worked, or if it was staged. What the family's reactions would be if I pulled that sort-of-cruel prank on them. Chuckling at the thought, I started moving towards the entrance to the Batcave.

I followed the stairs down to the dark, cold cave that I had learned to love. After all, this was home to my husband's greatest passion, and I would never try to get in between him and what made him feel fulfilled. I smiled upon seeing my dearest at the Batcomputer. Bruce was fixated on the screen, hardly noticing when I ran my hands over his shoulders from behind, my arms wrapping around his neck. "Hi there."

He looked up, not startled, but he hadn't expected my presence. "You're supposed to be resting."

I pressed a kiss to his bristly cheek. "I got tired of resting."

He turned the chair to face me. His large hands ran over my stomach, trying to feel the movement of his child, but she had already gone back to sleep, it seemed. "Can you wake her up so I can feel her?"

I looked down at him, laughing. "How exactly do you propose I do that?" 

He glared at me, but I could see the smile in his eyes. "I don't know how you do that, I've never been pregnant before."

Chuckling, I pecked his lips. "I'd want to know if you had been." Turning my attention to the screen, I noticed the faces of several inmates that had escaped the nearby asylum recently. "Getting anywhere on the case?" 

Bruce stood before turning me so my back was to the computer before kissing my lips sweetly. "You're not allowed to think about anything stressful right now, do you understand?"

I chuckled, looking up into his pretty blue eyes. "My poor baby, are you stressed?"

"Maybe. Lots of things going on at the moment." My husband knelt in front of me, pressing gentle kisses to my stomach. "Thinking about the case, the pregnancy, the company, the kids, all of it all at once."

My fingers ran through his uncombed hair. "Don't worry, the baby will be here soon, and you can scratch pregnancy off your worry list."

His eyes met mine again as he gently kissed my stomach. "I'll have a baby to worry about then. You'll tell me right away when your water breaks, won't you?" 

Smiling, I took his face in my hands. "You'll be the first to know. After Ava and I, of course." 

Bruce's eyes narrowed playfully, and he stood up once again. "You mean Emma?"

I chuckled and pulled him down slightly to brush my nose against his, our lips not quite meeting. "I mean Ava." 

"You mean Emma," Bruce grinned, kissing me passionately, stroking my stomach with his thumbs. A giggle escaped my throat, but I didn't break the kiss. He moved his hands to my hips, his caresses moving to my sides. 

"I thought you guys promised not to have sex in the cave anymore?" Stephanie's voice cut through our kiss, causing me to jump and Bruce to turn his head to glare at her. 

"We are not having sex, though we still can at eight months," Bruce gave me a side glance. 

I returned the glance. "You try having sex with a nearly full-grown baby in your tummy. Give it a try, let's see how you like it."

"Fair enough," he muttered before pecking my lips. 

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she passed us. "Disgusting, don't talk about it in the cave anymore either."

I chuckled, giving the girl's shoulder a squeeze and my husband's cheek a kiss. "I'm heading back upstairs, sex talk averted." 

Feeling Bruce grab my hand, I turned my head back towards him. "You will tell me when you go into labor?"

Reassuringly squeezing his hand, I smiled. "I promise I will. But I'm pretty sure we have some time before that happens." 

I made my way up the stairs, leaving Bruce to grump about our moment being interrupted. When I reached the landing, I was greeted by Alfred, who offered me a tall glass of water. "You'll remember what the doctor said about water consumption, madam," he held it out to me, and I almost reluctantly accepted it. 

"I do remember, but I don't think I can consume much else after that wonderful lunch you prepared for us, Alfred." 

"Flattery gets you nowhere, miss. Drink it all." He stood there so expectantly, his gaze piercing me like a sharp knife. Hesitantly, I sipped from the glass. My words had been the honest truth, I was still full from lunch. At least finishing a small amount got Alfred to turn and head back towards the kitchen. 

I looked at the glass in my hand that was still nearly full. Finishing it completely would be too impossible a feat at the moment, but I didn't feel like pouring it down the drain. I thought once again of that short video, of the woman with her own bottle of water, and suddenly, I knew exactly what to do with the remaining water. 

...

I had successfully emptied the glass of water onto the floor, a puddle beneath my feet. I made sure to splash some on my clothes before stuffing the glass inside an indoor potted bush. Someone would find it later, I was sure. The prank had been set perfectly next to the staircase on the marble flooring. Observing the scene, I grinned. If this actually were to work... 

"Damian, go tell your father that my water broke!" I yelled up the stairs for the person I knew to be in his room. 

I saw his head pop around the corner, observing with narrowed eyes, already suspicious. He was always suspicious. But my staged scene was convincing enough. Holding back mirth, I watched as his eyes widened and he made four bounds down the thirty stairs before disappearing into the Batcave's entrance.

Before I could get my laughter out of my system, Bruce, Stephanie, Damian, and Tim were tripping over each other in their haste to be by my side. I clutched my stomach and groaned in mock agony.

"Mom!" I watched with amusement as Tim rushed to my side before falling victim to the puddle of water and slipping, falling and sliding across the floor on his backside. Stephanie, ignoring Tim's accident, was the first to arrive at my side, her enthusiasm clear.

"Is Emma coming?!" She put her hand on my stomach, trying to feel the movement of the baby. I couldn't help but chuckle slightly while acting like I was in pain. 

"You mean Ava is coming!" Bruce was about to scoop me into his arms, but instead, slipped in the puddle and landed next to Tim on the marble floor. I ignored my husband's groaning and decided to fight for the victory, while still clutching my stomach. 

"Ava? You really mean it?"

"Yes!" Bruce hastily picked himself up, but I could see his bruised ego underneath his concern and panic. Before I could ensure that my battle for my daughter's name was won, I was picked up and nearly dropped again as Bruce clumsily fought with the closet door that stored the delivery bag we had packed a month or two before. "Timothy, get the bag out of the closet!"

I covered my mouth to keep my laughter inside. Tim had been watching the scene with interest from the floor, but he snapped to attention to retrieve the bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jason rounding the corner, looking like he had just woken from a long slumber. 

"Wha's goin on?" His sleepy eyes weren't registering the display before him. 

"Your mother is about to give birth in our hallway!" My poor husband growled before marching with me to the entryway of the mansion. 

"Oh, congratu... huh?" Jason blinked at me. 

"Alfred! Where's the damn car!" Bruce was sweating at this point, but I was thoroughly amused. This prank actually worked.

"In the garage, sir, would you like me to fetch it for you?" Alfred, the only calm soul in the vicinity, called from the kitchen. 

"Yes! Right now!" 

Seconds later, I was being half carried, half hauled out the front door. A small crowd of our family members had gathered, trying to be as helpful as they could, but in reality it was simply Cassandra and Stephanie badgering Bruce with questions about when they could come see the baby, Tim slipping once again in the puddle, and Jason trying to get through to Dick's cell phone. It was when I was stuck in the back seat of the car like a bag full of golf clubs that I decided it was time to come clean. "Guys, I'm just kid-" 

I was cut off when Damian slid into the seat next to me with his beloved sword drawn. "Come on, Pennyworth, drive!" His words were intensified as he waved the sword in the air. 

"Damian, no, it was just a-"

"Damian, you put that away this instant!" Bruce cut me off once again. "You'll kill your sister before she's even born!" I could see Alfred giving us a side eye from the driver's seat.

"Bruce, Bruce, my water didn't even-" 

"Don't worry, one of the kids will clean it up, let's go!" He pushed Damian out of the seat and took his place before slamming the car door shut. 

Alfred glanced at us from the rearview mirror. "Yes sir, is the madam comfortable?"

"No I'm not comfortable!" I grabbed Bruce's hand, trying to get his focus as the car pulled out of the gates.  I noticed that the car was turning the opposite direction of the hospital. "Darling, I was-"

"I know it hurts, just hang on," he pressed a kiss to my cheek before proceeding to dial Dick's number on his cell phone. "Why isn't he picking up?!"

"It was a prank!" Laughing, I grabbed his face in my hands, forcing him to look into my eyes. "Darling, darling, I was just kidding. It was a prank." 

His eyes were blank for a moment before the realization hit. "Are you ser... (Y/N)!" 

Chuckling, I pressed my lips to his forehead. "She's not coming yet, I just wanted to see if you'd fall for it."

"But of course I would... did... fall for it..." He grabbed my hand in mine before sighing and kissing the back of it. "Alfred, she pranked us."

"Yes, sir, she certainly did." I could see the butler's half amused glare from the mirror before the car came to a stop at a red light.

My husband pressed a kiss to my lips before giving me an unamused look. "We're naming her Emma, you've lost your naming rights."

I burst into laughter, returning the glare. "I am her mother, I have naming rights!"

He chuckled, shaking his head at me. "Not after that stunt. Don't you agree, Alfred?"

Alfred didn't respond to the question, but instead nodded at the shopping center next to the stoplight. "How convenient, we happen to be right next to the madam's favorite restaurant, shall we make a stop?"

"Yes, that's perfect." Bruce pressed a kiss to my cheek as the car pulled into the parking lot. "I'll get your usual and we can bring it home?" 

"Perfect indeed," I chuckled, still in shock that my prank had worked so well. I rested my hand on my stomach while my husband stepped out of the car. Watching him disappear into the doors of the restaurant, I looked over at Alfred. "This restaurant is nowhere near the hospital." 

"I do know that, madam." 

"And we were supposed to be going to the hospital." 

"Were we?"

"You knew?" 

Alfred turned in the driver's seat, holding up the empty water glass I had stored in the bush just minutes before, giving me a displeased glance. "I'd bury it a bit deeper next time, Miss (Y/N)." 

Part Two

#batman imagine #dc comics #dcu #fanfiction #female reader #pregnant reader #batman #fluff #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #dc batman #pregnancy imagine #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #dc fanfic #fanfic #batman fluff #batmom #batfamily #batfam #batmom imagines #batman family #batmom x batfamily #batmom reader #batfamily x reader #batfamily fanfic #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader

[charmandabear]

Ascendn't

Summary

I got mad when the game wouldn't let me hug him after the Cazador fight. So I fixed it. Plus a bit more steaminess in the graveyard scene. (Also, yes, I'm insufferable about this title.)

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Tav Rating: M Word Count: 4.5k Tags/Warnings: post-Cazador fight, Act 3 spoilers, blood kink, biting, hurt/comfort, fluff and angst, soft dom Astarion, enthusiastic consent

It's been a good 10 years since I've written fanfiction and probably about 20 since I've published any online. This boy got me down BAD. I made an AO3 account for this fucker. (Which you can find here.)

“I can do this, but I need your help.”

You’ve never heard him plead like this. He’s usually so cool and confident. He doesn’t need anyone if he can help it. But this is different. Standing over Cazador, dagger in hand, fear and desperation in his eyes.

“I’ll be free - truly, completely free. Isn’t that what you want?”

He knows how to make your heart melt and break all at the same time. Gods, yes, of course that’s what you want, more than anything in the world. For him to be free to live the life that he never got to have, the life that Cazador stole away from him. He was so young when he got turned. And if he doesn’t take this chance, then as soon as you manage to get these damned tadpoles out of your head he’ll be relegated to the shadows once again. You can’t do that to him.

But this isn’t it. This won’t give him the freedom he so desperately craves, no, deserves. It’s just another form of chains. You take a shaky breath and prepare yourself for his disapproving glare.

“I know you think this will set you free, but it won’t. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador.”

Astarion’s face goes slack, the recognition of the cycle of abuse suddenly clear. His eyes on you soften as he murmurs, “You– you’re right. I can be better than him.” He turns a steely gaze back to Cazador.

“But I’m not above enjoying this.”

With a ferocity that you haven’t yet seen in Astarion, he yanks Cazador’s head back and starts viciously stabbing into his neck. Two hundred years of pent up fury and revenge release in a matter of moments. At a certain point, he’s not even stabbing the man, but rather the idea of Cazador and everything he represents.

Eventually he slows and drops Cazador’s limp body to the ground. The dagger falls with a clatter, and Astarion takes a step back. His eyes finally come back into focus and he realizes that it’s over. Really, truly, over. He’s finally free.

His face is awash with an overwhelm of emotions that you can’t identify. He’s panting, first from the physical exertion and then the sobs that wrack his body. He lets out a howling cry filled with pain and suffering and relief and anguish and he falls to his knees, shoulders shaking. Up until this point, you and the rest of your party have been frozen to the spot as you watched Astarion claim his revenge. But something in you breaks free and you rush to his side. Where you need to be. Where you belong.

You grab him tight in your arms and curl into his neck, your own tears mixing with the blood and grime on his bare shoulder. You think with an almost sardonic humor how often your positions have been reversed. Whereas when he leaned into your neck it was often with hunger, or lust, or even just a flirty playfulness, now all you could bring is a shared pain and comfort. You plant a tender kiss just below his ear and he looks at you with tearful eyes, an unidentifiable question present. You wrap your hand around the base of his neck, fingers raking through bloodstained silver curls. Pressing your foreheads together, you sync up your breaths with his, trying to slow them back to an even rhythm. Gods, you love this man so much.

You finally dare to break the silence, whispering, “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” He lets out a weary chuckle and nods. You take one more look into those wet crimson eyes, bloodshot and tired, and smear some of Cazador’s blood left on his cheek in an attempt to wipe away his tears. He takes your hand and kisses your fingertips gently. You suddenly become aware that the other six spawn have been released from their soul-draining chains and are approaching, just as tired and sweaty as the rest of you. The two of you slowly get up to your feet, each helping the other in the process.

“Is… is it over? Is he…?” The woman you vaguely recall meeting in the flophouse in Wyrm’s Crossing, Dalyria, cautiously peers at Cazador’s body. Astarion lets out one final sigh, his breathing finally returning to normal.

“Yes. He’s gone.” He sounds like he can hardly believe it himself. As though saying the words aloud might somehow break a spell and make them untrue.

“What does that mean for us?” Petras, you think, comes up behind Dal. You do remember meeting him, feeling like he was like a knockoff version of Astarion. Trying all the same moves with half of the charm. You feel bad, now, about that judgemental assessment. He looks like such a lost little boy.

“It means you have a choice,” he says with exasperation. Sibling bonds, even when forged in fire, never die. “You can hide here, living in the shadows, like parasites.” His voice is filled with venom. “Or you can be more than what he made us to be. You can choose differently, of course. But the consequences are on your head.”

“What does it mean for them?” Dal asks, and Astarion falters slightly. 

“Ah. Now that is a question…” You can tell he had been trying not to think about the seven thousand vampire spawn locked up in the dungeons. He was trying to get Sebastian out of his mind since their conversation. You don’t blame him, honestly. Astarion may have been forced to do Cazador’s bidding, but that doesn’t make the fallout from that any less reprehensible. Worse even that he was good at it.

Astarion had taken a step away from you to talk to his siblings, and you can see him beginning to spiral. You close the distance again and lay a hand on his shoulder. You can feel him start under your touch.

“Let’s release them,” you offer quietly. “They deserve the same chance you got.” You have no idea who Astarion would be right now if he hadn’t gotten kidnapped by the Illithid. If he hadn’t been on this journey, seen everything he had seen. Met you. Honestly, you don’t know who you’d even be if you hadn’t met him either. The thought alone makes you run cold.

“You’re right,” he breathes barely above a whisper. “The poor wretches in the cells are innocent. They shouldn’t have to suffer just because I-” his voice catches in his throat and you see him shake off a dark thought, “lured them here.” He reaches down to pick up Cazador’s staff - Woe, you think it’s called - with a hand still stained reddish black with the vampire’s blood. He looks at it for a moment, considering it carefully, and everything this staff had ever meant. Then he slams it on the ground, red waves of energy emanating from it, using its power to unlock every single one of the cells in the dungeon. 

“They’ll need someone to lead them. Take the tunnels into the Underdark. Find somewhere… well, not safe, but less perilous.” Petras eyes light up with fear.

“What? No, we can’t-” he begins desperately, but Astarion cuts him off with a hand.

“Just try to keep them out of trouble.” The exasperated tone is back. How often had he needed to manage Petras’ emotions as much as his own? You vaguely wonder if Petras looked to Astarion as a role model. The other six spawn walk off slowly, exhausted but clearly relieved to be starting anew.

You turn to Astarion, who has just finished redonning his armor that Cazador had stripped him of. His gaze is glassy; you’ve seen this look before, sometimes even when you’re in bed together. He might as well be a million miles away. You gently touch his arm to bring him back to you. He jumps slightly, then a wan smile touches his lips, but not his eyes.

“That’s it. He’s gone. After all these years – these centuries – it’s really over.” He shuffles his feet, antsy and tired at the same time. You hesitate a moment, unsure of the best way to respond, but you finally settle on, “I’m proud of you. You did the right thing.” His smile isn’t free of bitterness.

“I’m glad you think so, because I’m not so sure.” His eyes flick up back to you, but that glassy look has returned. “I just feel numb. What I’ve lost, what I’ve gained – it’s all so much. And gods, all those spawn, free in the Underdark. I need some time, I think. Just to let it all sink in.” You reach out to touch his face comfortingly. Your heart sinks as he gently pushes your hand away, but it settles when he doesn’t let go of it.

“Let’s just go. This place reeks of death and I want to feel alive again.” He gives your fingers a small squeeze and then walks off ahead of your party, making his way down the long corridor into Cazador’s dungeon. Well, not Cazador’s anymore. You briefly wonder what’s going to happen to this place.

At the end of the hallway, you see the Gur standing there, too late to be even remotely useful. You struggle to keep a scowl off your face. You hate how they treated Astarion in your last encounter. You could be sympathetic of their pain, of course; they’ve lost so much to Astarion’s actions. But the fact that they offered no sympathy for him back, the fact that they could barely acknowledge that he was a victim himself? Absolutely despicable. 

Ulma stands at the head of the group, and her scowl matches yours. “You killed one vampire, but released seven thousand of his spawn? Have you lost all sense?”

“They were innocents. To kill them would have been an even greater crime.” Astarion couldn’t possibly sound more tired. You don’t blame him, these are the last people he wants to defend himself against right now.

“Some of those innocents are your fucking kids,” you grumble under your breath, hopefully not enough for Ulma to hear, but just enough for Astarion’s benefit. It’s clear that she couldn’t when she retorts, “And our children? What of their fate?”

“Cazador turned everyone we brought him into spawn. I can only assume your children are somewhere in those wretched cells. You’ll find them in the Underdark, although you may not like what you find.” The grief is plain in Ulma’s face, as well as the rest of the Gur. You feel a little more sympathy for them, but still no warmth.

“This is…” Ulma searches for the right word to capture the enormity of the situation, “difficult news.” She probably could’ve done better. “We will need to decide what this means.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “Thank you for what you have done – slaying Cazador was a great justice. As for the rest… well, time will tell.” Astarion nods curtly, and you’re relieved to be able to push past them and leave.

You and your party finally trudge back to Elfsong Tavern to rest. The rest of your companions are eager to gossip about the day’s events, everyone having something to say. You shield Astarion from their nosiness and distract them while he bathes in the tub in the corner, washing away more than just the physical dirt. 

Later that evening as everyone else is beginning to tuck into bed, Astarion comes to you, finally ready to talk again. You can smell his signature fragrance, an earthy citrus with an undertone of spice, and it’s positively intoxicating. You’ve grown to really love that smell, and even the slightest whiff makes your head spin. For the first time maybe ever since you met, his eyes look… soft. Almost warm, even.

“I should probably start getting used to the shadows, again,” he muses with a light smile. “Who knows how long I have left in the sun?” Your heart drops. This had been your greatest fear, that he would feel resentful of the fact that you convinced him not to go through with the ritual, thereby committing him to an indefinite lifetime in the darkness. You know how much he’s grown to love the feeling of the sun on his skin. Not to mention how it makes his skin look, soft and kissable.

“Don’t say that,” you plead with him. “We could still find a way to control the tadpole.” He shakes his head, his freshly washed curls bouncing slightly.

“Maybe, but even if I could control it, it’s a dangerous game. I’d spend every day waiting for something to go wrong. For the tadpole to find a new trick, reassert itself, make me a slave again.” His eyes grow lighter, discovering the truth of what he’s saying as he says it. “Maybe never seeing the sun again is just the price of freedom.” You reach out and give his arm a reassuring squeeze, relishing the feel of his cool, toned arm beneath the warm linen. Even after all this time, being this close to him makes you a little lightheaded. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and neck, almost as though it’s aching to be drunk. 

“I’ll be with you either way,” you breathe softly. You can’t help but glance at his lips. “I hope you know that.”

“I think I do.” He sounds genuine, a bit of a rarity for him. Lest anyone believes Astarion to have a sincere bone in his body, he adds, “Assuming we survive, of course. Because a horrible death is always just around the corner with you.” You playfully shove his shoulder for teasing you. He laughs and gently pulls you in by your lower back and you feel the heat rising again. Your breath catches as his eyes rake over your body and face. He lingers on your lips for a moment before darting back up to your eyes.

“There’s… something I’d like to show you, if that’s alright? Something out in the city.” He cocks his head and looks at you with an almost impossible combination of bashfulness and lust. Being this close to him and breathing in his heady scent makes you dizzy. You manage to recover just enough to quip, “If you want to sneak off for a cuddle, you can just ask.” He lets you go and you feel a significant drop in your internal temperature.

“I’ll try to restrain myself if you do,” he says with a cheeky smile. He takes you gently by the hand and leads you out the Elfsong Tavern.

The graveyard is quiet, almost serene. Astarion walks forward towards a tombstone covered in ivy and, with something bordering on reverence, brushes the vines away to reveal the text engraved in the crumbling stone. 

Astarion Ancunin 1229 DR - 1268 DR

He wipes the dirt off his hands and steps back next to you to get a better view of the stone. You stand together in silence for a moment, as if in prayer.

“Nearly two hundred years and I never came back. Not since the night I woke up down there.” His gaze is overtaken by that glassy look, the one you recognize to be him reliving his trauma. “I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was waiting. From that day on I was his.” He sneers at the memory. Then he pauses, considering, “Until today.” 

He comes back to himself with a shake of his head, and his eyes return to this plane. He adds, as much to himself as to you, “Now I need to figure out who I am. What I want.”

“And what do you want?” Your mouth is dry as you ask the question. You can hope for the answer, but you wouldn’t dare presume. He might need to figure that out on his own, and if that’s the case, you will respect that. 

He turns to face you, his red eyes full of more warmth than you’ve ever seen. Your heart leaps into your throat as he smiles and says, “You… I want you. 

“You were by my side through all of this. Through bloodlust and pain and misery. You were patient. You cared.” As he’s speaking your heart starts beating loudly, blood pumping through your arteries at an almost vulgar rate. You know he can tell, and he chuckles softly. Cupping his hand below your ear and gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, he adds teasingly, “You trusted me when that was an objectively stupid thing to do.” He pulls you even closer and rests his forehead against yours. You could never get tired of this. As much as you love those moments filled with heat and lust, there’s something so tender about these intimate gestures that aren’t about sex. 

“I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don’t want to lose that.” You grasp at the back of his shirt, looking for purchase as you fall so much more deeply for him. Your voice is barely above a whisper as you breathe, “You won’t. Whatever comes next, I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.”

You two stand there for what feels like both an eternity and a fraction of a second before he pulls away and looks at the grave again.

“Well. I should probably fix this.” He pulls a dagger from his belt with practiced fingers and kneels beside the stone, carving something into it. You kneel beside him and see that it now reads

Astarion Ancunin 1229 DR - 1268 DR 1492 DR -

His new life. For the first time in two hundred years, he can call it his own. You find yourself at a loss of what to do, or what to add, so you self-consciously pick up a nearby wildflower and gently place it at the base of his gravestone. He glances at you sideways and smirks, “Cute.” You both sit back on your heels to admire his work. He heaves a great sigh, letting go of centuries of tension and fear.

“I’ve been dead in the ground for long enough. It’s time to start living again.” He turns to you and takes your hands. “With everything life has to offer.” His voice has taken on that gravelly tone that sends a shiver up your spine. You don’t want to pressure him, of course, but your desire for his touch is getting harder to ignore. These gentle grazes, lovely though they’ve been, have set your skin aflame.

“Meaning…?”

His eyes glint mischievously and that familiar flirty lilt comes back to his voice. “If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded.” Your body leans toward him instinctively, breath heavy in your chest. The words are out of your mouth before your brain catches up, “Sounds good to me.” He gets close to your face and you can feel his breath on your lips before he pulls away suddenly. He’s teasing you, and you know that he’s relishing in the satisfaction of it.

“You know,” he says with a feigned innocence, as though he doesn’t know the effect he has on you, “I didn’t care for you when we first met.” The sudden shift in tone knocks you back to reality, and you can’t help but laugh. He impishly glances up at you through his lashes.

“But I do now. Being with you is about more than lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance.” He takes your hand, cheekiness gone, and looks you squarely in the eye with a rare earnestness. “I love you. I love this. And I want it all.” You will never tire of hearing those words. He reaches behind your ear and tenderly pulls you closer to him, finally giving your lips the reprieve they’ve been so desperate for. It’s a soft kiss, gentle, yet it still makes you burn up inside. 

He pulls away far too soon, and you gaze back at him with starry eyes. His features is soft and smiley, but in an instant he raises on his knees so he’s towering over you and he takes on that stern expression that makes your temperature rise. He shoves you back onto your elbows before bending down to crawl up your torso hungrily. He kisses you again, this time with more intensity. He pins you down with the weight of his chest and then traps you further by nudging your leg up with his knee, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from you. You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. And you most certainly don’t want to.

His body presses against yours and you curl your leg around him, pulling him tighter. An almost imperceptible grunt escapes his lips and you smile through your kiss. You can feel his smile in return and you lace your fingers into his silvery hair. He deepens the kiss, rolling his hips harder against you and your mouth opens involuntarily. He takes advantage of this momentary lapse and makes his way toward your neck, marking the trail with kisses. You seize up and your fingers tighten in his hair, encouraging him silently. But he needs more than that, and you know exactly how he’ll respond.

“Use your words,” he hums between kisses. You squirm beneath him, trying to sound even remotely dignified.

“You can,” you manage to gasp out as you try to suppress the moans that his lips are tearing from your throat. He flicks his tongue right over his usual puncture wounds and then gently trails it up the shell of your ear. You shiver with the intensity of it all.

“I can… what? I can’t know unless you tell me.” How the fuck does his voice stay this even? You can bearly even think straight, let alone string full sentences together. And yet he remains calm, nigh indifferent to the effect he’s having on you. But as cool as he is on the surface, you know how much he wants it. You both love the teasing, each night a challenge to see who can outlast the other. 

“You can bite me,” you breathe and he nips at your ear ever so lightly, causing you to choke out the last few words, “if you want.”

“If I want? But what do you want?” He emphasizes the pronouns in a singsongy tone, and even hearing “I” and “you” in the same sentence does it for you. He’s still grinding against you all while assaulting your neck with filthy kisses. You try to remember what words are.

“I want you,” you gasp, trying to keep your words legible, “to bite me.” You suck in sharply through your teeth as he hitches your leg up a little higher. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand and pins them above your head.

“Are you sure?” his tone is still infuriatingly innocent. He knows how much you want this, and you know what he wants in return. You’re not quite ready to give it to him yet. But gods how you wish he would break first tonight. Odds aren’t looking great as his free hand slips behind your lower back causing you to arch it off the ground slightly.

“Yes,” you groan in agony as his lips continues their heinous walk up and down your neck and collarbone. “Please, Astarion. I want you to.” He nips you again at the same time that he presses his thigh right at the apex between your legs. He tightens his grip on your wrists and whispers sharply in your ear.

“Beg for it.”

That’s it. You’ve lost. You cry out in a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. The words come tumbling out of you, unbidden and unburdened.

“Please, Astarion, bite me. Please please please. Bite me. I want to feel your fangs pierce my skin. I want to know the feeling of my blood inside you. Gods, please, I can’t take it any longer and if you don’t bite me soon I think I might-”

Thank the realms that he cuts you off in that moment, acquiescing to your begging, because you have no idea how you planned to finish that sentence. The sharp moment of pleasure as he sinks in, followed by the loveliness of feeling your blood flow into his mouth. It makes you feel slightly lightheaded, and the high it gives you is better than any you might hope to achieve on Elendren pipeweed. The gentle feeling of his tongue lapping at your neck contrasts beautifully with the sharp tension of him sucking the blood out of you. You can feel him starting to get lost in your neck, his grip on your wrists loosening. You use this moment of vulnerability in Astarion to get him back by arching your back even more to move your hips against his. You hear the sudden intake of breath through his nose and you smile to yourself smugly. He knows what you did and isn’t about to take it lying down, metaphorically speaking. 

Once he’s had his fill he draws away from your neck, lips stained red with your blood. He sits up again, one knee between your legs as he looks down on you. He tsks quietly as he shakes his head, drawling, “So naughty. What am I to do with you?” You prop yourself up on your elbows and return his gaze wickedly, your blood tickling your neck as it drips down toward your shoulder. He swipes at the drop with a long pale finger and lasciviously sucks your blood off his fingertip. Your smug grin is back, knowing how weak he is for you. 

His face drops into that stern expression again, but this time a devilish smile plays on his lips. He puts his hand on your chest gently, then takes a hard turn as he grabs you by the throat. Not enough to be painful, nor enough to constrict your breathing, but just enough for him to have control. He studies your face for a moment, admiring its beauty, before he yanks you upward commanding you to look him in the eye. He leans in for a forceful kiss as he keeps his hand tight beneath your jaw. You start to lose yourself in the kiss, melting into him, and he takes the opportunity to sharply push you away, his pointer lingering on your chin to show that he’s still in control of where you look. He lets you go and leans back confidently, enjoying how you’ve become extremely pliable in his hands.

He stands to loom over you for a second more, then reaches for your hand to pull you up. You’re completely under his power and couldn’t be more than happy to give him whatever he wants. You take his hand and he pulls it behind his back, pressing your chest into his. 

“You’d better be good for me,” he murmurs against your lips, once again denying the kiss you ache for. “We wouldn’t want to punish any bad behavior, now would we?” He caresses your face momentarily and then turns with your hand still in his and pulls you toward… somewhere. Honestly, you couldn’t care where. You love him, and you love this, and you’ll go wherever he leads. 

#astarion fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #astarion angst #astarion fluff

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Lucifer NSFW alphabet

Aftercare

what they're like after sex

He's a lot softer after sex and he'll take all the measures necessary to make you feel comfortable. He's a doctor, so he knows how to patch you up. Asks Buer to make the two of you tea since it helps relax.

Body Part

their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's

His favorite body part used to be his wings, but now it's his fangs. He likes the effect they have on you and how he's the only one, Heaven or Hell, to have them so pronounced

His favorite body part on you are your eyes. Not only can they cry so pretty, but they also show your true feelings. As they say, the eyes are the windows to the soul. (Plus he has a thing for eye contact and seing himself in the reflection of your eyes, but that's a post for another day)

Cum

anything to do with cum, basically

His cum has healing properties so you always feel better after he cums on/inside you. If you want, he'll give you a bottle of his cum to use as cream when you're hurt, since you already love drinking it from a bottle so much.

Also, if you can get pregnant, he'll be very worried about possibly leaving you with a baby, so he takes birth control pills religiously.

Dirty secret

pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

He had a threesome with Adam and Eve where he actually came in Adam's ass. He'll never admit this, not even to God.

The second time he decided to visit humanity, he found a cult that worshiped him and he still finds the idea of mortals praying to him arousing.

Experience

how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?

Bro participated in orgies, he knows how sex works. Though, after he fell from Heaven, he stopped having sex. Not because he's practicing chastity or anything, but the oportunity never showed itself.

Also, he knows how to have sex with angels, but he's never done it with a human before. So he might assume that you can take as much as an angel. It's fine, he's a fast learner so he won't overstimulate you... that much.

Favorite position

this goes without saying

He doesn't have one, but he hates all the positions where he has to lay on his back. He also likes holding your hands while you fuck because he knows you'll try to pull on his wings and he doesn't trust you. Other than that, he has no favorites.

Goofy

are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?

Even if he tried to tell a joke, his voice is so monotone that you couldn't tell. He'll also be very confused if you started cracking jokes in the middle of sex. He never laughs, he just looks at you with a bewildered and partly judgemental look on his face.

Hair

how well groomed are they?

We are in headcanon territory, so, I think angels don't have hair, they only have feathers. Their "hair" is actually fluff that baby birds have. So, in conclusion, I think Lucifer's dick is fluffy.

Intimacy

how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect

He would prefere doing anything else but sex to show you how much he loves you. He'll be more sensual and take things slow because he has no reason to rush. No matter how hard he tries to act like one of those porn stars you so admire, you always get the impression that he's mildly bored. He's only doing this because you like sex and he likes you, so, in part, it is true.

Jack Off

masturbation headcanons

He doesn't masturbate. He just doesn't see the use in it. If he's feeling horny he'll just call you over and have an actual passionate night of sex. Why would he bother jacking off when he has you for that.

Kink

one or more of their kinks

Dacryphilia, that one is canon, but I also think he has a thing for overstimulation. Will make you cum until you cry and ask him to stop and depending on his mood he may or may not listen. He usually doms because it's in his nature to do so, but he might indulge you once he likes you enough. When he subs he only accepts praise, the moment you degrade him he just bitch slaps you and leaves. He's not a prideful bitch, he just knows his worth/s

Location

favorite place to do the do

His garden. It's pretty, it's outdoors, you get some fresh air. He's probably really into botony so he'll show you plants as he fucks you. He also really likes the texture of grass, more so than his bed, so this is where you're having sex.

Motivation

what turns them on, gets them going

Seeing you cry especially if it's from something he did. Being a doctor and checking up on you as he randomly takes blood samples or gives you jabs that he refuses to eleborate on. His ideal partner is someone that's afraid of medical supplies. He likes scaring you, making you cry before saving you with an embrace while he coos about how brave you were.

No

Something they wouldn't do, turn offs

Getting called "daddy" or "brother" during sex is his biggest turn off. He had to deal with an incestous brother, please don't remind him of him.

Oral

preference in giving or recieving, skills, etc.

I preferes the idea of recieving, but he doesn't want to hospitalise you, so he'll be giving for most of the relationship. He's very good at giving as well, but he's a little shit about it. He never gives you full tongue treatment, you only get small kitten licks and nothing more. He'll give you a gynaecology/andrology check up since he's already there.

Pace

are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?

He likes it slow. He drags out the forplay, usually it lasts more than the actual sex and then fucks you swiftly. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't be rough because his dick is twice the amount a human can take. He hates rushing, let him take his time.

Quickie

their opinions on quickies, how often

He's very against quickies. He likes to take his time, and if something urgent needs to be attended to soon, he'll push you away and deal with that before even considering having sex. The prep for sex with him is 3/4 of the sex experience, why would you want to pass it.

Risk

are they willing to experiment? Do they take risks?

It depends. He might experiment with some kinks if you express interest in them, but nothing too extreme. If you insist on doing extreme stuff with him, he'll just pay someone from Abaddon to do it. No, he won't let you step on his cock, he already has erectile disfunction.

Stamina

how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?

He gets tired after speaking for 3 minutes, he has the stamina of a malnurished sloth. He's mostly fucking you out of professional obligation, so he'll give you one or two turns of action, about 5 minutes each and then he does the after care. If he's feeling very horny, and I mean very horny, he'll make sure that not even his cum can cure your soreness, but he lacks that motivation 9/10.

Toys

do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partener or themselves

Do needles and jabs count as sex toys? He doesn't use them often, but he does sometimes indulge in that fantasy. He can also tie you up like he does to Marbas if you want. He'll never use toys on himself because he considers them ungodly. But if they please you, sure enough.

Unfair

how much they like to tease

Honey, teasing is the sex when you're with Lucifer. You better have an hour free in your scheduel just for the forplay. It's his favorite part of the experience because he gets to do stuff that isn't 100% sexual while being sexual enough that they please you.

Volume

how loud are they? What sounds do they make?

His very quiet, to the point that you sometimes doupt he's enjoying himself. When he does makes sounds, usually when he's close, he'll groan or choke, before realeasing with a melodic moan. He also shooes and gives you orders about what to do. He doesn't like a partner that's very loud, only Gamigin has the green card when it comes to being noisy.

Wildcard

a random headcanon for the character

Lucifer is a sex neutral asexual. He doesn't experience sexual attraction and he only has sex if someone else that he likes asks him to. He doesn't see the hype around it, and sex is the least important part of a relationship for him.

X-ray

let's see what's going on under those clothes

I'll be honest with you, I've never seen a penis in real life, I have no idea how those usually look like. His dick is 30 cms, I'm not sure that's physicly possible, but who knows. Wouldn't a dick that big be uncomfortable to live with? I am very confused. Just imagine a baguette and boom, that's his dick.

Yearning

How high is their sex drive

Nonexistent. Before he met you, he only had sex during the annual angel orgies because it was tradition. It's not that he hates sex, but as stated above, he just has no interest in it. When you see naked people daily for your job, you stop being excited by nudeness.

Zzz

how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

He only falls asleep after he makes sure you did. Usually sleeps in a seperate room from you, but, after he gets attached, he'll insist that you cuddle in your sleep.

#what the hell is bad #whb #whb lucifer #whb smut #I am projecting #and I think lucifer is asexual #I'll fight everyone over this

[seakicker]

☆ My Next-Door Neighbor is an Annoying Older Woman Who Constantly Bothers Me

☆ between: college au!scaramouche x milf!reader

☆ synopsis: scaramouche insists he doesn’t want to fuck the milf living next door, but all his friends think he doth protest too much.

☆ word count: 10.5K words

☆ a/n: like with my venti x milf!reader fic over on ao3, this is supposed to give a sort of doujinshi vibe, hence the embarrassing title and the lunacy of some ideas like milf!reader going outside in a super sheer shirt. hopefully you feel the doujinshi vibe i was going for as i have a lot of fun trying to replicate the style, themes, and flow of doujinshis using only text!

☆ contents: fem + plus-sized reader (reader is explicitly described as chubby, busty, and taller than scaramouche), age gap obviously; scaramouche is a senior in college and reader is in her early 40s, degradation, a couple insults (such as scaramouche calling you a hag/loose/etc.), degradation, exhibitionism (scaramouche fucks you in front of a glass sliding door), sexual frustration, and unprotected sex + scaramouche pulls out

also posted to ao3 with the same title and under the same username!

Scaramouche has a problem.

Well, a problem slightly more irritating than the approximately nine hundred other problems he deals with on a daily basis. These issues include, but are not limited to, the consistent problems he has with the hot water heater in his apartment, his obnoxious group project teammate Ajax who insisted upon being the group’s leader despite his complete and utter lack of intellect, his annoying circle of friends that always seem to find ways to poke their noses into Scaramouche’s business, his frustratingly-dull history professor that always goes off on tangents completely unrelated to the class’ subject matter… and so on and so forth. It’s one issue after another; there’s always something when it comes to Scaramouche.

A matter more pressing than all of those other nine hundred issues put together, however, comes in the form of his next-door neighbor— you.

You’re a divorced woman in your early forties who lives by herself, works during the daytime while Scaramouche is on campus, and always seems to leave and return home at the same times he does. He moved in next door to you a few months ago at the start of his junior year, but you’ve never really gotten the chance to get to know him beyond the curt responses he gives you when you ask how he’s doing or what he did over the weekend. His coldness towards you doesn’t make too much sense— have you somehow offended him without knowing? You like to consider yourself a good neighbor: you don’t party (like a woman your age would ever do such a thing), you don’t blast loud music long into the night (or at all), you take good care of your things and avoid causing trouble for Scaramouche or your other neighbors, and you’re very, very tidy. When you’re in the mood to brag a little, you’ll say that you have the nicest balcony in the entire apartment complex.

…Avoid causing trouble for Scaramouche, huh? He’d beg to differ.

If Scaramouche has nine hundred problems in his life, then maybe it’d be more accurate to claim that you’re the cause of at least seven hundred of those problems rather than claiming that you’re one single, self-contained issue separate from all of those other problems. Maybe it’s the way you insist upon butting your way into his life and, in what must be your way of expressing it, “taking care” of him that irritates him more than anything else. Really, if he had to sum up your advances in one word, he’d have to go with aggravating.

At first, he bitterly wondered if you’re just some senile old hag using him as a replacement for your son, who’s surely moved out by now given your age. All you are is a woman looking to cure her empty nest syndrome by doting on someone her son’s age according to Scaramouche— he viewed your kindness as underhanded and delusional because he can take care of himself, you know. He’s an adult man living on his own; he knows how to navigate the trials and tribulations of young adulthood without some old lady insisting upon knocking on his door and gifting him home-cooked meals, bringing up his mail from the first-floor mailroom, or helping him with chores where you can. It’s not like Scaramouche would ever let you into his apartment, but that hasn’t stopped you from finding ways to help outside by sweeping outside his front door or washing the outside of his front window while he’s not home.

Okay, maybe it’s a little creepy to wash your neighbor’s windows without him asking you to help out, but it’s not like he’s going to do it. You would know— you had once waited a week to see if he’d clean up a spilled drink stain on the walkway in front of his door. As you expected, he never got around to it, so you happily cleaned it up on his behalf. Cleaning up for him doesn’t really put you out of your way either— whenever you sweep his doorway, it’s because you were already outside tidying up in front of your place; why not help out your neighbor in the process?

When you bring him meals you prepared yourself, it’s out of the goodness of your heart and because you can’t help but worry about a college boy’s diet— fast food, pizza, frozen microwave meals, and instant ramen don’t have all the nutrients a hardworking man needs. When you bring him his mail, it’s because he has a tendency to forget about it until his mailbox is, quite literally, overflowing. Whereas you check your mailbox every single day, Scaramouche seems to forget about his until the end of the week, which is certainly no way to live— what if he misses an important bill or notice? As a result, you took it upon yourself to check his mailbox for him whenever you go to retrieve your own mail.

Again, maybe it’s a little creepy to gather your neighbor’s mail, but it’s not like you’re hurting anyone, right? You certainly don’t root through his mail or open any of it. Even though Scaramouche rolls his eyes and mumbles a halfhearted little “thanks” every time you hand him his mail, he doesn’t really seem to mind. Despite his initial reluctance to accept any of it, he still eats the food you prepare for him if the empty containers he returns to you a few days later are any indication of that fact. You figure maybe he’s just a little shy or tired from his long day on campus— it does your heart well to know that he’s working so very hard.

On the flip side of things, Scaramouche considers your… activities a total inconvenience. He’ll admit that your meals taste very good— though he’d never say it to your face— but he doesn’t like feeling indebted to you or thinking that he owes you something even though you’ve told him multiple times that your favors don’t need any payback. You’re just happy to cook for someone other than yourself, you had told him once, confirming Scaramouche’s suspicion that you live alone. It’s not his fault you’re bored enough to make food for someone you barely know, so do you have to rope him into your wiles? He already has groceries and though he doesn’t really know how to cook, what’s wrong with having a bowl of cereal for dinner? It’s none of your business, is it?

Between your constant insistence on involving yourself in his life and the fact that he’s never seen anyone else leaving or entering your apartment, Scaramouche was able to correctly guess that you live alone… a realization that can’t help but annoy him. He figures that if you had someone, anyone else in your life like a spouse or another child living with you, you’d stop pestering him and stick to involving yourself in the lives of your family instead of your neighbor.

Would a pet do? Should he find some stray kitten and leave it on your doorstep? Is that what it’d take to make you mind your own business?

“Hey, Kuni, tell me about your little neighbor lady again,” Venti coos, accidentally knocking over his—thankfully— empty beer bottle when he leans forward to grab his phone. He’s drunk, but that barely makes a difference; he’d still make this request sober.

Glowering around the mouth of his own bottle, Scaramouche rolls his eyes in Venti’s general direction. “Why? If you want to know that hag so badly, go talk to her yourself.”

Venti busts out laughing, an action that his drunken body clearly can’t handle seeing as he falls sideways into Aether’s shoulder, making the latter grimace in response. Venti’s already a handful sober, but when he drinks… it takes the entire friend group to get him home and/or in bed safely. “Don’t threaten me with that, ‘cuz I really will do it— I’ll go steal your hot older girlfriend.”

Glaring up at him from his spot on the rug, Scaramouche has half a mind to shove that empty beer bottle into Venti’s eye for suggesting such a thing. Hey, wait a minute— why is Scaramouche the one sitting on the floor when this is his damn apartment?

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend,” he barks, turning to direct his glare at Kazuha too when he hears him chuckle.

“The more you deny it, the less convincing you are— you talk about her all the time, so I’m inclined to believe you really are dating,” Venti chirps, reaching for a bottle of beer that is most certainly not his.

“That’s mine,” Aether protests, watching as Venti takes a sip from his bottle anyways.

“Oops, my bad.” He doesn’t sound sincere.

“Well… get me another whenever you stand up.”

Venti waves his hand dismissively before redirecting his attention back to the more important matter at hand— Scaramouche’s complete and utter inability to just admit that he has the hots for his hot MILF of a neighbor and that any protest otherwise is a feeble attempt at hiding the truth.

“They say you’re attracted to things that make you mad,” Venti says. “…Cuteness aggression. Yeah. I saw a video about it once.”

“That’s not what cuteness aggression is, and ‘they’ say that you attract the things you fear,” Kazuha corrects him from his spot in the nearby armchair— again, why is Scaramouche the one sitting on the floor?— before he goes to take another hit off his blunt.

Venti repeats what Kazuha said in a nasally voice in an attempt to mock him, but the gesture only makes Kazuha chuckle again. It’ll be hard to draw any response more eloquent than a single laugh or a sigh out of him for the rest of the night— it’s a very, very stark difference from how he usually is.

“Why the fuck do I ever invite any of you over here?” Scaramouche sighs, taking a long swig from his own bottle. He doesn’t even really like the taste; it’s something Venti found on sale and decided to bring over, but Scaramouche has decided it’s better than spending his Friday night sober. Besides, it’ll take at least four more of these to deal with the impending conversation that he’s been trying so hard to pivot away from since Venti first brought it up.

“Because we’re best friends forever, next question. Why do you deny how much you wanna fuck your sexy neighbor, Kuni?” Venti asks again, pouting when Aether snatches the bottle Venti stole from him. “It’s super obvious. Xiao and Heizou agree with me, and I’m not just saying that because they’re not here tonight and can’t contest me on it. It’s true.”

Kazuha nods, and Aether simply shrugs. Christ alive, do they all think the same thing?

“And why on Earth do I— in theory— want to fuck her? She’s probably loose or something,” Scaramouche argues.

Venti busts out laughing again.

“It’s the opposite, really,” he starts, glancing between Aether and Kazuha when neither of them laugh along with him. “What, have you guys seriously never been with an older lady? They’re the best; the reason I know Kuni wants to get with that lady next door is because I got with the lady next door to me a couple months ago. It takes one to know one, or something. Trust me, Kuni, I know what you’re going through and we are seriously gonna get through this together.” Why is he making it sound like a relative died or something?

“They’re experienced,” Venti sighs longingly, blindly reaching out again for the bottle Aether’s holding, who moves it further away and out of Venti’s reach. “They feel really, really good. They actually know what they’re doing… sometimes the girls—and guys, mind you, I’ve gotten with plenty of both— our age clearly don’t know they’re supposed to be doing, but getting with somebody’s mom…”

“You’re gross!” Aether gasps, though his pink cheeks tell a different story.

“Not as gross as the guy who’s told us the same story about seeing his neighbor lady braless like four times now,” Venti replies, glancing over at Scaramouche with a grin. “Really left an impression on you, huh, Kuni?”

Just like that, Scaramouche finds himself instantly reminded of, well, the time he saw you braless first thing in the morning. A few months ago on some random Saturday morning, Scaramouche was out smoking a cigarette on his porch when you stepped outside to water the plants you keep on your balcony. There were so many of them: a small tomato plant, a pot overflowing with basil that you took to trimming after you finished watering everything, a couple of hanging baskets field with flowers, and a few other vegetable plants and potted succulents. More glaringly obvious than the abundance of plants occupying your balcony was your complete and utter shamelessness— even a quick glance in your direction was enough to draw Scaramouche’s attention to the distractingly sheer fabric of your white camisole.

It’s not like Scaramouche was actively staring at your tits— really, he wasn’t, he swears— because anyone would notice something that egregious. The low, low sweep of your camisole around your ample bust, your nipples beading up against the thin fabric, the constant fucking movement of the top as you shifted and bent over to water the plants sitting on the ground, moved, and walked, all of it. He complained to his friends about your complete and utter shamelessness— What kind of woman steps outside practically naked? he spat, much to the amusement of Venti, who had said that wearing a thin shirt does not, in fact, make one naked.

Worst of all, you had actually fucking caught Scaramouche staring, an action that made you grin wickedly and run your hands down the sides of your soft, plump body as if to try and draw his eyes down along with your hands. Instead, Scaramouche had only whipped his head to the other side, busying himself with tapping the ash off his cigarette as if it were the most important task he’d ever complete in his life. Jesus Christ, he was only staring because he couldn’t believe you’d be so shameless as to wear something like that outside, not because he was genuinely aroused by how low your camisole sat on your chest, how big your tits are, how soft they look…

He thinks he shuddered then, and he insisted to his friends that it was because of a sudden chilly breeze and absolutely nothing more. It was either that or because he was just so shocked by your display that a shiver went down his spine— he can’t even remember the exact reason he gave anymore.

Either way, none of them really believed him.

“Ah, he seems distracted,” Kazuha notes simply, raising a hand to point at Scaramouche before grinning. His words pull Scaramouche from his little daydream, and he groans at the realization that, yes, he spaced out remembering yet another instance of your abhorrent shamelessness and perversion.

“Spaced out thinking about cute MILF boobs, I get it,” Venti affirms, nodding. “Nobody gets that more than me. Not only that, but you’ve also, uh, ‘complained’ to us about seeing her in her swimsuit. Really, Kuni, it’s like you’re biding your time and waiting for her to take her clothes off so you can tell us about it.”

…That’s a story for another time. Scaramouche has had enough of thinking about you for one day; it’s bad enough that you brought him his mail today just mere moments before Venti, Kazuha, and Aether arrived to hang out— what if they saw you?— but to be reminded of the image of your tits underneath that pathetic excuse for a top…

He shakes his head and takes a long, long sip from his bottle.

“And they’re so soft, Kuni,” Venti says, slumping over further into Aether for support. “They feel like absolutely nothing else. I feel like firmness or perkiness or whatever is really, really overrated— the softness of a cute MILF’s boobs is unrivaled!”

“Can you not say things like that right into my ear?” Aether mumbles bashfully, making Venti laugh.

“Why? Am I gonna put the mental image of MILF boobs in your brain, too? Are we gonna become an entire friend group full of MILF chasers? That’d be hilarous. I already know about Xiao’s little crush on his English professor.”

Jesus, Scaramouche has got to steer this conversation somewhere else or he’ll go mad. “Anyways,” he beings, “Where is that pizza you ordered ages ago?”

“I thought Kazuha was taking care of it,” Aether remarks, glancing over at him. Kazuha goes to reply, but nothing comes out— yep, he’s gone for the night. He won’t be able to get out any more than four words max until morning.

As if the universe heard their request, the doorbell rings to signify the arrival of dinner. Before Scaramouche can go to pull himself up off the floor—he really should make Venti move; it’s his couch in his apartment— Venti’s already in the process of skipping towards the door. Aether takes the opportunity to kick his feet up over the other couch cushion, making Scaramouche wonder if the three of them formed some secret pact to ensure that he stays on the floor the entire evening.

However, what stands on the other side of the door is not, in fact, the pizza delivery boy. It’s you, aluminum foil-covered glass casserole dish in hand, leading Scaramouche to believe that while the universe did hear their request for food, the devil answered by sending you to his doorstep while he has three of his friends over.

“Oh! You’re not the pizza guy,” Venti beams, putting on his best ‘polite’ voice possible. Scaramouche groans and looks over towards his other two friends just so he doesn’t accidentally make eye contact with you, but neither Aether nor Kazuha look back at him. They’re looking at you.

Christ, he’ll never live this down. Not only do they know who you are, they now know what you look like.

“I’m not,” you giggle. “I live next door; I bring food to Scaramouche sometimes whenever I get a little too excited in the kitchen and make too much. I can’t eat the leftovers fast enough before they go bad, and I would hate to waste food, you know?”

“You can call him Kuni,” Venti offers. “We all do. It’s less of a mouthful, don’t you think?”

Scaramouche decides that Venti will be leaving his apartment in a body bag tonight.

His cheeks burn with equal parts humiliation and anger, and the realization that his friends’ teasing is only about to get worse now that they know who you are and what you look like more than motivates Scaramouche to devise a plot to kill the three of them.

After introducing yourself to Venti, he smiles and replies that “the pleasure is all his” when you tell him it’s nice to meet some of Scaramouche’s friends. Venti has half a mind to invite you inside for a moment, but he decides that’d be unnecessary— he figures he’s already done more than enough to inspire Scaramouche into action. If Scaramouche won’t act on his feelings himself, then maybe a little shove from his friends will help him along.

“That’s sweet of you!” Venti praises, taking the dish from your hands. “I’m glad Kuni’s eating properly these days. One time, he told us that the only thing he survived off of during finals week was a sleeve of Saltines and some peanut butter. You’re so kind, miss.”

You giggle sheepishly, a sound that Scaramouche would like to claim grates his ears. Miss? Can’t Venti see that you’re, well, old? “Well, I’m glad that he has such kind friends to support him. You all take care, okay? You too, Scara— Kuni!” You call out past Venti’s shoulder, making both Aether and Kazuha chuckle.

After bidding farewell to the four in what has to be the most mortifying moment of Scaramouche’s entire life, you leave, allowing Venti to close the door behind you and make his way back to the others. “Those boobs are huge,” he sighs dreamily, looking up at the ceiling. “If I got suffocated between those, I would die a fully satisfied man.”

“Then go die,” Scaramouche mutters in agreement, cheeks still burning with humiliation. Why does the universe insist upon tormenting him so?

Eyeing the dish in Venti’s hands, Aether pipes up too “She cooks for you? Kuni, you have it so good.”

Scaramouche is amazed that, after all this time, his friends still find it in them to be jealous of him despite all of his attempts at framing you as annoying, invasive, and overbearing. Can’t they see that you’re doing this on purpose?! Scaramouche has half a mind to wonder if you’re psychic— what other explanation is there for your obnoxiously perfect timing? He asks about food and suddenly you appear on his doorstep, dish in hand as if you had heard him through the walls. There’s no way they’re that thin, are they?

Venti moves to set the dish down on the kitchen countertop before turning around to look Scaramouche square in the eye. “Kuni, I’m saying this because I respect you as my longtime friend,” he asserts, tone and gaze both deathly serious in a way that’s genuinely almost out of character for someone as flippant and carefree as Venti. “But you better fuck that lady the first chance you get because, if you don’t, I’m taking her for myself.” That should do it.

Scowling in response, Scaramouche crosses his arms over his chest and sighs bitterly. “Why would I stop you? I don’t care what you do with her. For the last fucking time, I’m not into her.” Despite his words, Scaramouche can’t deny that there’s something… unsettling about the idea of Venti getting with you. Does he really want to watch his friend take four A.M. booty calls in order to fuck the woman living right next door to him? Can Scaramouche truly stomach the idea of his friend fucking the brains out of someone just a few walls away from where he lives? It’s hard to put his finger on why, but something about Venti getting with Scaramouche’s neighbor, despite his insistence that there truly is nothing between the two of them, really, really irks him.

Well, it’s probably just because a lot of Venti’s behavior tends to irritate Scaramouche in the first place, right? Yeah, it’s probably just that. He doesn’t need to hear every last gritty detail of his friend’s sexual trysts.

That characteristically smug grin of his finds its way back to Venti’s face as he reaches over Aether’s shoulder and snatches his beer bottle again. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. How about we forget the pizza and eat what she brought over?”

“Oh, I see now,” Kazuha interjects after having been silent for the past twenty minutes. He turns his phone around to show Scaramouche, Venti, and Aether the check-out screen on the pizza chain’s website. “It seems I failed actually submit the order; it was still waiting for me to pay.”

Scaramouche doesn’t have a hangover the next morning, a blessing he owes to the fact that he only ended up drinking two beers last night. He probably would’ve consumed more if he had the chance to, but Venti blew through the rest of the box quicker than the other three could try to stop him. It took both Kazuha and Aether supporting Venti’s hardly-conscious body to get him down the stairs to the parking lot so they can drive him home— there’s no way Venti would be able to safely get himself home amidst such an awful hangover.

As he pokes through his apartment scooping up empty beer bottles and stained paper plates to toss into a trash bag, the glass casserole dish sitting out on the kitchen counter catches Scaramouche’s eye. Save for a few scraps shoved into the rounded corners of the pan, it’s practically been picked clean— the four boys tore through it easily with Venti, Kazuha, and Aether all fawning over just how good a home-cooked meal tastes after months of campus cafeteria food, fast food, and instant ramen. Venti mentioned that there’s just something about a MILF’s cooking that makes it so much better, leading to a conversation about how, in Venti’s educated opinion, older women just do everything better: sex, cooking, cleaning, caretaking, all of it.

Scaramouche scoffs at the memory. “She’s nothing special,” he mutters to himself, still failing to understand Venti’s obsession with somebody he’s never even met until last night. Scaramouche is the one who’s actually been living next door to her for months now— as his friends know by now, he has plenty more to say about her than Venti does.

Shouldn’t he be the one to comment on things like the size of your bust, the softness of your legs, the plumpness of your ass and belly, and the flavor of your cooking? He’s the one who’s actually seen you lounging in tiny string bikinis by the apartment complex’s pool, watering the plants out on your balcony in a pair of shorts that certainly break publicly decency laws, and retrieving your mail in a shirt so thin he can make out the little bumps of your nipples up against the fabric.

“Christ, what am I thinking?” Scaramouche stops himself and second-guesses whether or not he’s actually hungover. There’s no way his sober mind would drift to thoughts of you, right? Clearly something must be wrong with him— he blames Venti for putting all these thoughts in his head with his never-ending discussion of what makes older women so utterly sexy.

He’s then reminded of what Venti told him right before they all sat down to eat your cooking: that if Scaramouche won’t hurry up and fuck his neighbor, Venti will do it for him. Even now, the idea still bothers him for reasons he just can’t quite put his finger on— Venti’s been with tons and tons of people; why does he want Scaramouche’s neighbor too? Can’t Venti see how awkward that would be?

Setting the trash bag down on the floor, Scaramouche takes to the sink to wash out the casserole dish you brought over for them last night. His mind concocts disgustingly vivid images of you as he scrubs at a particularly stubborn piece of dried cheese, and maybe he’d be shocked by how little effort he’s putting into warding those thoughts away if he weren’t so utterly immersed in them. His mind conjures up the image of you in that tiny black bikini he saw you wearing by the pool while he was out smoking on his balcony— he remembers the little number being so small that you had to readjust it every single time you simply sat up or lied down because every last motion was enough to threaten a nipslip. It makes him wonder if you dress like that on purpose or because you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that clothes and swimsuits you used to wear still fit you despite clear evidence otherwise— are you actively vying for the attention of any man who’ll give it to you, or are you brainless enough to throw something on without caring about how poorly or not it fits?

It’s probably a mix of both; you’re just that shameless.

Scaramouche grits his teeth at the mental image of you straddling him while adorned in that tiny little bikini that seems to only get tinier and tinier the longer he allows his imagination to run wild. Of all the fucking things to imagine you doing…

He pictures what you’d look like with your thick, plump thighs enveloping either side of his hips as you run your hands up and down your ample chest and soft stomach. God, he can see it all now: the little bumps of your nipples beading up against the thin fabric of your swimsuit, the soft hang of your tummy spilling over the tiny, flimsy string keeping your bottoms secured around your wide hips, the way your tits would bounce as you ride him…

“Something’s wrong with me,” he grumbles, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. The clump of cheese he’d been scraping at finally separates from the pan, and he realizes that if he wants to rid you from his mind for good, he should take matters into his own hands before Venti does.

No, wait, this has nothing to do with Venti— this isn’t about staking claim over you before any of his friends can, this is solely about him finding ways to release the grip you have on him as if you’re some kind of wicked succubus. Scaramouche glances downwards after setting the dish aside to dry and, much to his chagrin, finds that the mere thought of you was enough to fucking get him hard. The eager press of his cock against the confines of his briefs moritifies him solely because of the very reason why he’s like this in the first place; how the fuck did the thought of you in a bikini so tiny your areolas peek around the sides reduce him to such a state? He’d like to believe that he’s only this hard because it’s been a while since he’s jerked off, but that would be an excuse less believable than any of the ones he’s ever given his friends.

He knows that he’s too dignified to jerk off to the thought of you— if he’s feeling horny, then surely he can find things more deserving of his attention than some hag next door. He refuses to give you that kind of satisfaction (despite the fact that you’d never even know unless he told you, so how could you be smug about it?), so he decides that an ice-cold shower is in order before venturing out to settle things with you.

After a shower so cold Scaramouche swears he saw his fingers begin to turn purple, he dries off, gets dressed in something other than the clothes he fell asleep in last night, grabs your clean casserole dish, and leaves to go to the one place he wouldn’t have ever imagined himself stepping foot in— your apartment. If this is what it takes to sever the connection between you and his mind…

God, this is going to be annoying, Scaramouche thinks as he knocks on your door using his foot, casserole dish supported safely by both of his hands. He feels the need to steel himself because he just knows you’ll answer the door in something sheer, skimpy, or some combination of the two and he needs to be ready for that.

Why? Are you hoping for that to happen, Kuni? Venti’s voice whispers from the back of Scaramouche’s mind.

He really is losing it.

“Good morning— oh, Kuni! This is a surprise,” you greet him upon opening the door, flashing him a smile so bright it nearly makes him cringe. Can you spare him the pleasantries so he can just get to the point?

Fucking Venti— why teach her that nickname? Turning his head to look at a faraway bird instead of you, Scaramouche scoffs. “I need to talk to you.” Straight to the point, emotionless, and rude, it’s all so in-character for your neighbor that you can’t help but giggle.

You grin wider. “Of course. Come in; I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”

Scaramouche waits until you’re a good few steps ahead of him before following you inside, glancing around the living room of your apartment as he makes his way to the kitchen table. Your apartment’s clean, impeccably so at that— every book on your bookshelf faces the same direction, the blanket draped over the back of your couch doesn’t have a single crease, and he can’t see even an ounce of dust on any inch of your tables and countertops.

He snorts a little. Rather than viewing the cleanliness as impressive or inspiring, he bitterly interprets it as a testament to your overabundance of free time and lack of other hobbies or pastimes.

“I’m not sure how strong you like your coffee, so I’ll just make it how I normally do,” you pipe up from the kitchen, pulling Scaramouche away from scrutinizing the titles of the books on your shelf. Restless Summer Nights? The Devil’s Mistress? They all sound like bargain bin erotica novels.

It was a mistake to direct his attention away from your novels and to you instead, he figures, because only now does he get a look at what you’re wearing— if one could even call that clothing. You’re dressed in something he wants to call a workout outfit, but anyone leaving the house in an outfit like that surely has goals other than simply exercising— they want to attract attention. A sports bra that sits so low on your chest that a single bounce on an exercise ball would expose you combines with a pair of spandex leggings so tight they reveal the lines of your panties to comprise your “workout outfit,” and to say that Scaramouche is mortified would be an understatement. He can’t help but find the combination of your manner of dress and your collection of novels completely pathetic.

And despite his apparent disgust… he’s been staring at you long enough to pick up the most minute details about your outfit. The indifferent passerby likely wouldn’t notice your pantylines— a certain amount of staring is required to actually notice them; they’re really not obvious from a quick glance. Actually, why can’t he stop looking at you? He writes it off as a simple morbid curiosity at how someone can be so completely and utterly shameless— one could almost liken his sick, cynical fascination with your ample curves and soft body to rubbernecking.

Scaramouche instead stares down into the cup of coffee you’ve set in front of him like it’s the most fascinating object in the entire world. He’s half-inclined to just close his eyes entirely, seeing as the slightest glimpse of your bust still occupies the uppermost part of his peripheral eyesight when you sit down in the chair opposite of him.

“So,” you start, sliding a porcelain dish with a small bowl of sugar cubes and a saucer of creamer his way. “What can I help you with? It’s rare for you to talk to me first, Kuni.”

He adds “drop that nickname” to his mental list of topics to bring up with you. Scaramouche plucks a few sugar cubes from the bowl before him and drops them into his coffee before absentmindedly stirring the liquid with a serving spoon.

“Last night,” He clears his throat. “Why did you come over to talk to V— to my friends?” Why are you always in my business? he really wants to ask, but he feels like you’ll start crying if he presses you too firmly.

And that’d just be obnoxious.

You giggle. “That makes it sound like I came over on purpose because I knew you had people over, and that’s not true. Haven’t we been in the habit of food delivery and acceptance for months now?” Scaramouche’s eyes follow yours to the squeaky-clean casserole dish he placed on your counter.

“I’m glad your friends seemed to enjoy the food just as much as you do,” you add sweetly, pursing your lips and blowing on your coffee to help it cool down.

“It was humiliating,” Scaramouche counters, a statement that prompts you to look up from your coffee and make eye contact with him. “They wouldn’t— they wouldn’t stop fucking talking about you after you left.”

Wait, that’s not the point here, is it? Surely Scaramouche’s main complaint isn’t that Venti practically sweet-talked you right into his bed, it’s that Scaramouche is tired of you invading his business and his space, right? He doesn’t care about Venti’s comments about your soft tits or your wide hips, he doesn’t care about Aether’s bashful confession that he exclusively jerks off to older women, he doesn’t care that he has competition because there’s nothing to compete over and he’s really, actually, truly angry that you always find a way to worm your way into his days and his mind and his free time and his wet dreams and his—

“Oh, I’m flattered,” you reply simply, sipping your coffee and smiling around the rim of the cup. “They’re such nice boys. I’m glad you have such sweet friends, dear.”

What’s warmer: the tips of Scaramouche’s ears or his untouched cup of coffee?

“That’s not— what? That’s not the point I’m making and you know that,” he grimaces, clearing his throat again. “My friends shouldn’t have to put up with a shameless old hag the way I have to.”

You set your cup down. “That’s not very nice. I look good for my age— that charming boy down at the corner mart always asks for my ID whenever I pick up some wine!”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “That’s his job. Anyways, I’m telling you to mind your own business.”

“Oh, is that all? Of course I can do that for you.” Your reply comes without a single skipped beat.

“I mean it, that means don’t touch my mail and— what?” Wait, there’s no way you’re making this this easy. A shameless, conniving, lustful, lewd seductress of a woman like you agreeing to just… fuck off at the first request? Scaramouche doesn’t buy it— this is just another phase of your plan to throw him off guard and pull the rug out from under him so you can sink your claws deeper and deeper into him.

“I like cooking for you and cleaning for you, and I was very happy to meet your friends yesterday, but if you want me to stop, of course I will,” you explain. “I wonder who’ll help me eat my leftovers now… your friend from last night gave me his phone number; does he like potato soup? I’m making that tonight.”

Scaramouche almost, almost feels a shiver tear down his spine. He’s starting to believe that Venti’s just as much an antagonist in this situation as you are.

“Why the fuck did you accept his number? Delete it,” he grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring over at you. His coffee’s surely gone cold by now, but that’s alright— he was never much of a coffee drinker anyways.

You shrug, a sly smile forming on your lips. “Oh, I don’t know. He was so sweet I didn’t want to say no… it’d give me someone new to talk to, if nothing else.” Why do you need to talk to Venti when he barely knows you and I’m right fucking here?

“It’s not like you talk to me much despite all my best efforts, Kuni,” you offer him the subtlest of pouts, an action that would look out of place on the face of a woman your age if you weren’t so… if you weren’t so…

Forget it, he’s not saying anything about you that could be interpreted as a compliment. “…Especially now that you and I have agreed to leave each other alone.”

Oh, Scaramouche doesn’t like this feeling. He hates feeling like a situation has spun out of his control, and that’s, unfortunately, exactly what he feels is happening here. You’ve agreed to his terms and you’ve promised to stay out of his way, so why does he feel so… angry?

Yeah, you must have some underhanded motive here. Why else would you be making this so… easy? That’s not like you at all— he was expecting you to fan your eyelashes, pout your lips, push your tits forward, and whimper that you’re sorry and that you’d love to keep talking to him, so will he please give you a second chance?

I’ll do anything, he was sure you’d say.

You clear your throat. “Well, is there anything else you’d like to discuss now? If not, I’ll get back to my yoga. It’s good to be active, right?”

What the hell? You’re ending the conversation? No way, no how— this ends on Scaramouche’s terms, not yours. Who do you think you are?

“No, that’s not it, actually,” he blurts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Staying out of my business means staying away from Venti— from any of my friends. Don’t talk to them, don’t text them, don’t— I don’t know. Don’t be around them.”

You smile a little wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous, Kuni.”

He scoffs, staring you directly in the eye as if to challenge you. “Seriously? Shit joke.”

Of all the adjectives you could have picked to describe him… “It’s just that the thought of you getting with Venti is nauseating, alright?”

You hum. “And why him specifically, hm? You had other friends over last night— are they single?” Jesus Christ, what is this, an interrogation? And where the hell are these sorts of questions coming from— did you already send Venti an invitation to hook up?

Sneering so hard his nose scrunches up, Scaramouche can’t help but feel appalled. “Did you decide I’m not good enough or something? Who do you think you are?”

You go silent.

Scaramouche, somehow, goes even quieter than silent when the weight of his words finally sets in. There it is— the culmination of your grand plan to humiliate, embarrass, and utterly demean him in your own home. You had this outcome planned from the start, didn’t you?

“I didn’t say that,” you stammer, attempting to correct yourself. “Why do you think I’ve been vying for your attention all this time? Of course I like you, Kuni.”

God, how you piss him off. Who do you think you are— some bashful schoolgirl confessing to her first crush?

“I know that I’m just an old woman and that you could certainly find a cute, young, perky college girl whenever you’d like to, but if you’d ever like me…”

Of course Scaramouche could get someone his age from one of his classes— he doesn’t need to settle for some loose old hag— and yet… the thought of you getting with anyone else, Venti or not, pisses him off in a way he can’t quite describe. Maybe he views himself as some kind of hero protecting everyone else from your shamelessness, maybe he views himself as the only one worthy of your attention as the one who has to put up with you the most, maybe he views you as someone actually, genuinely worth being with…

He sits up a little straighter. “You have no idea how obnoxious you are,” he mutters. “Taking up my time and attention even when you’re not around.”

“What a forked tongue,” you reply, leaning forward and, much to Scaramouche’s chagrin, pushing your breasts together with your hands. “You know that’s why I like you, right? Mean boys have always been my favorite— ever since high school.”

“You’re not worth the time,” he spits. So fucking annoying. So fucking shameless. What kind of woman your age behaves this way, anyway? So obnoxious, so pathetic, so intoxicating, so impossible-to-keep-out-of-his-mind—

“Venti sure seems to think I am,” you offer with a smug, self-satisfied smile as you rise from your seat. Hooking your thumbs up under the straps of your sports bra, you quickly snap the elastic fabric back against your shoulders to give your tits a little bounce, an action that, of course, does not go unnoticed. Slapping his hands down flat against the perfectly-ironed lacy tablecloth covering your dining room table and standing up so quickly he nearly knocks his knees against the table’s hardwood underside, Scaramouche laughs.

What a time to finally, finally accept that he has the hots for his neighbor— the same neighbor who’s supposedly the cause of so many of his bad days and sour moods. You’ve prompted many a disdainful mutter from Scaramouche after catching a glimpse of you through your drawn curtains, you’ve been the subject of many a snide comment made in the presence of his friends, and, most frustratingly of all, you’ve inspired countless, countless inappropriate thoughts that he cannot believe you’ve been the subject of.

And all it took was one of his friends hitting on you for him to realize that.

“Constantly flaunting a body like this,” he chides in a way that he wants to come off as insulting and condescending rather than sadistically flattering, but the little grin you offer in response gives him reason to believe you interpreted it as the latter. Seriously?

“Other boys your age seem to enjoy the flaunting,” you counter, slipping your thumbs into the waistband of your spandex leggings. As if to tease the act of pulling them all the way down your legs, you flip the fabric of your waistband over its seam to expose the majority of your soft lower belly.

Anger burns hot behind his pale cheeks. “Is this some kind of pathetic hobby of yours? Fucking guys half your age?”

“I like to consider it a lifestyle,” you reply, shimmying your leggings further and further down your thick thighs until your thong’s completely exposed. A black lace thong— how becoming of a nymphomanic like yourself. “I’m fine with trading experience for virility and stamina; do you know how many men my age finish in thirty seconds and call it there because they’re ‘just so tired’? College boys either go until they can’t hold themselves upright or until they have nothing left to pump into me.”

There’s that vulgar nature that’s both irritated and (subconciously) aroused him for months. He wants to believe that your disgusting nature doesn’t make his cock twitch, but the time for pretending has clearly passed. You don’t believe he finds you ugly or unappealing and neither does he anymore.

“And do you find this… lifestyle fulfilling?” Scaramouche challenges, grimacing at the pressure building in the frontside of his tight jeans.

You laugh. “Is that your way of saying you don’t? Are you a virgin, sweetheart?”

“Of course not. Just because some of us don’t fuck everything with two legs and a pulse doesn’t mean we’re virgins.” His clumsy escapades are none of your business— his high school girlfriend and that guy from the concert Venti dragged him to over the summer don’t concern you.

Bending forward to push your leggings down to your knees, you gaze up at Scaramouche through your eyelashes and giggle. “Don’t make it sound like I don’t savor every last cock or strap I ride. You could put every last one of them in front of me and I’d be able to tell you who they belong to with my eyes shut.”

Venti mentioned something about experience, didn’t he? What a sanitized way of calling older women complete and total whores.

The inferiority complex in Scaramouche wants to prove that he’s the best thing a whore like you will ever experience, that he can make you feel better than any of the other bumbling college morons he probably knows can, and that you’ll give up your ways of fucking everyone that looks at you in order to devote yourself to him and him alone. That’d be some nice payback for all the pain and humiliation you’ve subjected him to these past couple of months, right?

No, he has a better idea.

“If you want to show yourself off that badly,” Scaramouche huffs, doing his damndest to ignore the nearly-painful throbbing in his jeans. “Then I’m sure you’d be fine with doing it in front of that glass door, right?”

With your hands still bunched in the fabric of your leggings, you look back at the glass sliding door that leads to your balcony and bite your lip. It’s not likely anyone would actually see you— you and Scaramouche live on the third floor— but it’s still a possibility and an exciting thought nonetheless. Maybe you could give that nice redheaded quarterback boy you fucked a few months ago a nice show; he lives just across the parking lot in the building parallel to yours.

“Now who’s the deviant one? I’ve never fucked anywhere more public than a nightclub’s bathroom stall,” you tease, finally pushing your leggings all the way down and off your legs. He doesn’t believe you, but Christ, those thighs of yours look soft…

You accept his offer nonetheless and make your way over to the balcony door, your thong riding high on your wide hips and your hardened nipples pressing into the flimsy fabric of your pathetic excuse of a sports bra. “You’re helping me wipe off all the fingerprints afterwards,” you scold, inviting him over with a wiggle of your hips and a glance back over your shoulder.

Now, rationally, Scaramouche would never propose the idea of fucking in a place as public as right in front of an apartment complex parking lot. He’s never considered himself an exhbitionist and he’s always been somewhat obsessed with his image, and people who care about their image generally don’t have sex in the potential presence of others. Additionally, there’s probably something to be said about him potentially getting caught fucking the same woman he’s spent the better half of this past year complaining about, but the current irrational, horny, angry Scaramouche wouldn’t listen to better judgement or rationality anyways.

The relief that comes with unbuttoning his jeans and giving his almost painfully-hard cock room to breathe is so euphoric he can’t help but sigh, the throbbing in his crotch more aggravating than any pounding headache he’s ever experienced after an evening drinking with his friends.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” he laughs, incredulous. “To think the hag living next door to me is the reason I’m like this.” Jamming the weight of his bulge into the plumpness of your soft ass, Scaramouche seizes hold of your hips in both of his hands and gives the fat of your love handles a painful squeeze just to hear you suck the air in through your teeth.

“I thought you’d never come around, you know,” you breathe, beyond eager at the prospect of finally, finally getting to fuck the neighbor boy you’ve been actively working at breaking for months upon months now. A guy this mean, this arrogant, and this demeaning doesn’t come around that often, especially when so many of the guys you get with take the polite route by calling you “ma’am” and complimenting you over and over again— which certainly isn’t a bad thing, but cruel has always satisfied you in ways that kind cannot.

The height difference between the two of you means that Scaramouche has to stand up a little straighter than he normally does in order to press his hips against yours, a realization that’s only slightly humiliating. Granted, it could never compare to how humiliating it was for you to show up at his apartment in front of all his friends.

God, does it feel good to put you in your place.

“Spread,” Scaramouche mutters, knocking one of his feet against both of your ankles. He doesn’t tell you that he needs you to spread your legs so your hips will lower a bit, allowing him to reach them a little more easily since you’re a bit taller than he is.

You would tease him for skipping the foreplay and just jamming himself right into you, but you know that you’ve been plenty wet enough ever since your discussion with him first wandered to sex and masturbation. Well, that, and if you had to wait another minute to get the cock you’ve been so desperate for for so long now, you very well may go crazy. It’s taken months, but you can already tell that it was all so, so worth it.

Running his knuckles down the center of your thong, Scaramouche relishes in the smug satisfaction that comes with realizing that you’re wet. It’s equal parts arousing and equal parts pathetic— just how desperate are you for any cock you can get your hands on?

“You’ve already kept me waiting for months,” you say with a pout cast back at him from over your shoulder. “Why make me wait even longer when I’m right here?”

“Shameless and impatient,” he remarks with a frustrated huff. “Can’t you do something good with your life or yourself for once and just be quiet?”

As tempting as it is to make a teasing quip in return to only further rile up your angsty neighbor boy, a frenzied giggle is the only sound you can muster up when you feel the firm press of a cock against your clothed pussy. Even through your flimsy thong, you can tell that he’s hard, which is a reward in its own right. It’s what you’ve wanted to achieve since the very first time he caught you half-naked watering plants on your balcony— is it so wrong for you to want to rile up the cutie next door?

Scaramouche roughly yanks your thong down to hang around your lower thighs, leaving you entirely on display for him when you follow suit by tugging your sports bra up to your collarbone. The cool, smooth glass against your bare tits is an unfamiliar sensation, but it’s certainly not an unwelcome one— especially when you remember that anyone could look up from across the parking lot and get an eyeful of your bare tits squished up against the glass door.

“I wish I could watch you sink it in for the first time,” you hum, reaching down between your legs to part the outer lips of your cunt for him a little wider. “In front of a mirror or something maybe. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because you’re the spitting image of the romantic type.” There’s no way you consider him the romantic type, is there? He’s not going to hold your hands and whisper in your ear about how cute you are, you know.

Damn it, you’ve got him actually wanting you more than he’s ever wanted you before— this makes all his filthy fantasies about taking you bent over your kitchen counter or being underneath you while you ride him into oblivion look like a cheap, budget porno from a video rental store. His desire has always been real—albeit subconscious, sure—but it feels so much more genuine now that it’s been realized.

“Don’t say a word about this to anyone,” he mumbles in a brief moment of humiliation, biting into his bottom lip as he finally, finally sinks the full length of his cock into you.

Jesus Christ, if there’s anything Venti’s ever been right about, it’s how good a mature pussy feels. You’re soaked all the way down to your inner thighs, you’re so warm Scaramouche nearly feels his knees give out from underneath him, and you squeeze him so well he can feel your pussy gripping the sensitive underside of his tip.

“Why not? I can invite your friend next time,” you propose, squealing with delight when Scaramouche slaps a hand down against the side of your ass. “Venti, right? It’d feel so good to have my ass used while you—“

“Just shut up,” he hisses bitterly, glaring at you hard enough to give himself a stress headache. “Don’t talk about other guys right now. Especially not ones I know.”

“You’re right, it’s rude to talk about other men when I have such a good one right here with me already,” you feign sympathy, pushing your hips back flat against the front of his thighs. “Oh, Kuni.”

There’s that damn nickname again. As much as he hates the idea of you using it to tease him or fluster him, he can’t deny the way his dick twitches whenever you coo it in that soft, sultry tone of yours. It’s like you were custom-made to gobble men up or something— just how many of his classmates have you fucked?

Oh, it doesn’t matter. Not when he knows he can establish himself as the best of the whole damn lot of them. Not when he knows that he gets the privilege of seeing you every single day and nobody, nobody else does. Not when he’s seen your cute nipples peeking at him through that tiny, flimsy pajama top he caught you in all those months ago. Not when he gets to peruse on over to your apartment whenever he wants because you’re right fucking there and nobody, nobody is physically closer to you than he is.

Jesus, this is all starting to sound like some kind of crush.

“How’s that?” Scaramouche taunts, slapping his hips against you so wildly the sound of skin smacking on skin almost drowns out his voice. He’d like to claim that this sort of pace is supposed to be punishing, and he’d be right if he were to say that, but he wants it hard and rough just as much as you surely do. He couldn’t stop his hips even if he wanted to because he knows there’s nothing he’s wanted to do more than fuck your brains out for months upon months now.

You don’t answer him, too preoccupied with relishing in the feeling of his cock pounding into you with everything he’s got. How befitting of Scaramouche to fuck you like he’s angry at you— if he could even claim to be mad anymore. The combined sensations of his hips hammering against yours, his fingernails digging into your soft, plump love handles, and his balls slapping against your ass on each thrust are all far too overwhelming to even attempt a reply.

“Seriously? You run your mouth for ages and now you shut up when I ask you a question?” You’re doing this on purpose— Jesus, you’re insatiable.

Your back arches when Scaramouche digs the tip of his cock into a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, a broken whine leaving your lips instead when you attempt to reply with a dirty quip. He laughs when he realizes what’s just happened— that’s certainly one way to get you to shut that filthy mouth of yours.

“I hope somebody’s watching you, actually,” he admits despite all the jealousy even a single mention of his friend stirred up in him. “That way they can see you’re not worth their time because you don’t value yourself whatsoever. Why would anyone want someone who’s happy to just give themselves away like this and get fucked in a place so public?”

Maybe that’s just a weird, roundabout way of saying I want someone to watch me fuck you so they know a whore like you has been whipped into shape and that you only want me now. Who’s to say?

“You don’t care about getting caught yourself?” You finally pipe up with a grin.

Scaramouche snorts. “Getting caught with the likes of you? I’d transfer universities.”

You pout. “Would I still get to see you?”

For whatever reason, the question catches him off guard. How many times does he need to remind you that you’re not his girlfriend, that you’re not some sweetheart with an innocent crush, that you’re just his fucking neighbor who just so happens to have a hot body and just so happens to feel so, so good around him like this and just so happens to be the subject of his wet dreams and fantasies and—

He’s only able to spit out one word. “Obnoxious.”

His hands reclaim a firm grasp on your ample hips before he takes to fucking into you at a whole new angle— one that’ll surely hit that spot that got you to shut the fuck up moments ago. Your hands clamor for anything you could possibly grab onto to steel yourself, but there’s nothing except for the cool, flat glass beneath your palms.

“Kuni,” you rasp in a broken voice, beyond impressed with his ability to have found your most sensitive spot and target it specially. Call it sheer dumb luck or a testament to how perfectly compatible your bodies are, it doesn’t matter. He won’t let up on it until you’ve collapsed— maybe it’ll be a nice change of pace from your partners being the ones to collapse after an evening with you.

With the task of finding something to hold onto having proven fruitless, you instead slip a hand back between your legs to rub at your clit. Scaramouche snickers at your apparent desperation to orgasm, but he’s not letting you off that easily.

“What a pathetic display,” he remarks, pounding into you so quickly you can barely register the full length of his cock before he’s pulling it all the way out of you again. With your legs trembling and your knees buckling, the possibility of actually collapsing underneath him is becoming increasingly likely— these wild, frenzied thrusts of his prove exactly why you’re so into college guys.

Looking down from the fuzzy reflection of your face in the glass, Scaramouche watches each sink of his cock into your tight, dripping cunt with all the intensity and attention of a virgin. It may as well be his first time— you feel so fucking good he’s starting to lose his train of thought. You take him all the way to the hilt on each thrust so easily that he’d absolutely call you a common whore if he were able to form even a single word.

Despite his inability to form a coherent sentence, Scaramouche finds that he has just enough rationality left to pull out mere seconds before coming all over the swell of your ass, his cock twitching in his hand as he bites back moans. Here he is, coming all over the soft ass of his obnoxious older neighbor lady after spending so many months convincing his friends that he does not, in fact, want to fuck her.

You laugh breathlessly, the hand between your legs still rubbing frantic circles over your clit as you attempt to reach your own orgasm as well. “What’s wrong with coming inside? I’m hurt.”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. That’d be irresponsible.

“Well, that’s alright,” you chirp, standing upright and turning around to face him. “I can always wring it out of you myself, right?”

“You’re insatiable,” he replies, inching backwards towards the couch as you step forward in time with his footsteps.

“Pot, kettle. You’re still hard, Kuni.”

With the realization that he’ll need some kind of excuse to offer his friends when he inevitably returns to a slew of unread messages a few hours from now, he falls backwards onto the couch just before you make yourself comfortable in his lap.

Well, not that any of them have ever believed any vague, half-baked excuse Scaramouche gives.

#hiiiii #juju bakery #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x y/n #kunikuzushi smut #fem reader

[kisses4suna]

can you please give me some really soft suna bf headcannons !!!! i love ur works btw ur my fav suna writerr ahh

SUNA RINTAROU BF HEADCANNONS !

☆ featuring. suna rintarou

☆ a/n. OMFG. anon im so sorry this took me so fkn long to answer. im slowly starting to finish requests people have sent in months ago. i love this idea sm tho!! im so sorry again; i literally deleted tumblr and finally got it backk ill be finishing more requests soon and posting drafts, then during the summer ill post WAY MORE FREQUENTLY. (so be prepared for sm more suna content guys ;))

ps. i might make a p2 for post timeskip suna too so lmk if you’d want that !!

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PRE-TIMESKIP BF SUNA

- suna mfing rintarou will raise your standards to heaven bro. even if he’s only in highschool

- his face will be so deadpanned and neutral but the minute he sees you he grows that small smile that he hopes nobody sees

- he talks about you like crazy to his sister but doesn’t even realize it

- “did you see her new insta post? shes so pretty bro how tf did i pull her”

- “i miss my gf rn”

- “hey do you think y/n would want something like this?”

- his sister loves you, but is so tired of her brother constantly talking about you

- he would choose you over anybody, and anything. even over his airpods. which says a lot for suna

- will literally do anything to spend time with you. he will drop as much as he could on his schedule for you. he just genuinely wants you to be with him all the time. (he’s so clingy its cute but he hates admitting how attached he is to you hes like a lil koala bear hanging onto his branch)

- without you even knowing he signed you up to be a manager for his volleyball team just so you could spend time with him at his practice

- this mf so obsessed with you he got hit in the face with a volleyball because he was too busy looking at you instead of paying attention to the actual practice

- he will ‘go to the bathroom’ during practice just to sneak off underneath the bleachers to give you a quick kiss and talk to you.

- suna isn’t dumb he’s actually really smart just very lazy, so if you were in advanced classes he would literally get his grade up, request a transfer to your advanced classes, just so he could spend more time with you there

- plus he loves seeing you seem so smart and focused he thinks you look so cute like that ^^

- he unfollowed every girl on his socials besides you and his sister

- he has a whole instagram highlight dedicated for you and its filled with over 20 stories of you and him together or sometimes just pictures of how beautiful you are.

- his insta bio has your initial with a heart, and says “i love my gf” just for fan girls to back off

- his photo album is way worse. he organized his whole camera roll and has a full album of you which takes up half his storage, but who cares, he doesn’t mind having to delete games he downloaded cause he was bored ( especially if its for you )

- in his notes app he has every little detail about you written down, not in a creepy way, just to remember important stuff about you. like what you hate in people, your fav stuff, etc.

- he dedicates every long song to you.

- also hes like very touchy in private, i mean in public he is too, BUT IN PRIVATE. oh my. he is not afraid to cling onto you.. you will literally have to claw him off you if you have to use the bathroom while your cuddling

- he’s only like that because he loves you so much and he’s so attached to you, he just wants to stay with you forever because he cant imagine losing you

- he asks his mom if he can sleep over at your house as much as he could, the days he can’t, you either go to him, or he facetimes you and you both end up falling asleep on the phone.

- everytime he goes to the mall with his friends or something, he will ask them every 3 seconds “do you think y/n would want this ?” he really just wants to spoil you to show you how much he loves and appreciates you

- sometimes he sleeps late at night rewatching his volleyball games and analyzing his plays, so he bought you a sleeing mask and earplugs so you could fall asleep without the sound or light of the tv bothering your slumber

- he loves being in between your thighs, your fingers tangled in his hair while you both watch tv.

- but at night he loves burrying his face in the crook of your neck with one armed wrapped around your waist and the other placed diagonally on your back while his hand covers the back of your head, almost looking like hes protecting it.

- you’ve genuinely helped him become a better version of himself, when he’s with you he’s at his best, which is probably why he loves you so much. because when he’s with you it feels like he’s just at peace, he just falls in love with you even more everyday.

- he hates thinking your love is puppy love and it wouldn’t last, and some nights when he’s not with you, he’ll overthink like crazy, really just wondering why someone as perfect as you hasn’t left him yet, or why are you even with him in the first place ?

- little does he know, he means as much as you mean to him, and you don’t plan on leaving him anytime soon.

#kisses4suna #haikyuu #asks and replies #suna rintarou #suna fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna x y/n #suna x reader #bf!suna #suna headcanons #haikyuu!! #sunarin #sunarin fluff #boyfriend!suna #anime #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou x y/n

[manuscrypts]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝒩𝒮𝐹𝒲 𝒜𝐿𝒫𝐻𝒜𝐵𝐸𝒯 — j.slaughter

warnings + tags — MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DNI, female reader, mentions of sex, dacryphilia, blood kink, non-con kink, knife play, johnny slaughter being johnny slaughter, typical nsfw things

authors notes — I’ve been wanting to do an alphabet for some of the tcm characters forever, so why not kick it off with a dirty little johnny post? this is all for fun and games, so if you don’t agree w anything, that’s okay <3 I might make some more n/sfw alphabets if people want, too (also let’s pretend I’m not uploading this at 6am).

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

at first he wasn’t exactly understanding of aftercare, he was used to just fucking and leaving, you know, the whole family business. but once he got with you, you taught him what aftercare actually was and it became one of him favourite things — he’d actually look forward to it, not that he’d tell you that. the idea of holding you close to him, all sweaty and panting, both of you more relaxed than you ever could be, enjoying the silence and the come down from your shared high. what could be better?

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favourite body part of yours is definitely your ass and thighs, doesn’t matter whether they’re big or small, he just loves the soft parts of your body. he loves squeezing them, slapping them, biting them, laying on them — whatever, he is just borderline obsessed with them. but in all honesty, every single part of your body is his favourite, he’s just so into you that he can barely contain himself.

his favourite part of himself is his arms and hands, his muscular biceps and large hands make him feel manly and give him extra confidence, plus when he’s choking someone, seeing his hands or arms cover them completely kinda gets him going. plus he knows how much you love those parts of him, and that makes him like himself just that little bit more.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he’s filthy when it comes to his cum, he’ll have it everywhere — he’ll cum on your face, your ass, in your mouth, and even forcing it into your cunt and breeding you like you deserve. he claims you as his and him having his cum in you or all over you just cements that fact. it tastes a little salty but mostly just normal, he likes to think he has a “good” diet just for your taste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

johnny is a dirty little panty stealer, especially dirty panties. any time you’re showering or have gotten changed, he’ll pick up a pretty pair and shove it into his pocket, and he’ll act completely innocent when you ask if he’s seen them anywhere — he’ll just claim he probably ripped them to shreds when he fucked you, or threw them behind something accidentally. he loves smelling them while he’s masturbating (which isn’t often) but when he really misses you, then it just brings him that much closer to you. he has a secret little stash of them in his shack, tucked away in the back of a drawer, all different colours and styles just for his pleasure.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

no surprise but he is pretty damn experienced, but in the beginning he only really fucked for his own pleasure, not really caring about the other person. but when he got you, then all he wanted was to hear you moaning, to hear his name tumbling from your pretty lips. so he focused on and used everything he knew best, and of course he listened and learnt what you enjoyed — he basically became a god of fucking you, knowing everything that made you break, the things that made you quiver and come without him barely touching you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

surprisingly, missionary is his favourite, mostly because he likes seeing your face while he’s fucking you, having his hands wrapped around your throat or pinning your hands above your head. there’s something intimate about the simplicity of missionary and he loves that. but he enjoys mixing it up a little, missionary that turns into a mating press, and whatnot.

his second favorite is doggy, but because he loves ass, and it makes it easy to wrap his arm around your neck and pull you back into his chest. a secret favourite as well is forcing you into the full nelson, because what wouldn’t be enjoyable about that?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s more serious but it’s because he gets lost in the moment, he’s so concentrated on making you come that he doesn’t really take the moment to be more relaxed. but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to laugh and joke on during it, he’ll often say things that makes you chuckle, especially when he’s being “sweet” — but he doesn’t make a habit to go out of his way to make a joke unless it’s to lighten the mood after an intense session.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

johnny is pretty well groomed, he often shaves his armpits and trims his pubes, mostly because of the hot weather so he likes to keep it shorter but also because he feels more comfortable. he definitely leaves hair down there though, and grows out his happy trail because he knows he looks good with it. and of course he leaves the little bit of chest hair he has. all of his hair is jet black, and pretty thick and straight.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he can sometimes be nice and loving, slow and romantic. whispering sweet nothings into your ear, pumping in and out of you deeply, just showing how he loves you. but of course he has the moments, which is more likely, where he fucks you hard and rough, using you for his own pleasures. it all depends on the moment, the day, and his mood, but expect a bit of everything from him. but johnny has his own ways of intimacy, his own way of showing his love and being what he thinks is romantic, even if he is being rough the entire time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he rarely jacks off, instead he prefers having sex with you to relieve himself, but on the off times he does need to jack off, then he has specific things he’ll do. like stated he’ll sniff your panties or look at polaroids of naked pictures you took for him, picturing you riding him and moaning for him. he’ll edge himself a lot, too, your name always rolling off his tongue when he moves his hand nice and slow up and down his cock. other times he wants it over quickly, locking himself in the bathroom and fucking his hand hard and fast, just needing to come and get it over with so he can get back to his busy schedule.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

blood kink — need I say more? he loves eating and tasting people, and your blood is something that he loves tasting, especially when he’s balls deep inside of you. there’s something so intimate about licking the blood trickling down your neck and making love to you at the same time, something so intimate about sharing something like blood with each other. he also loves having you taste his, whether it’s from biting his lip or even just licking his wound when he accidentally cuts himself.

knife kink — again, a pretty obvious one, the man who walks around with a knife and cuts people up basically for a living? he likes the way you flinch under the cool steel of his blade, cutting your clothes off your body with it, leaving lines and marks on you. he’ll cut you if you let him, not deep enough to scar, but enough to get a little blood from you, two kinks for the price of one.

non-con kink — he loves having his way with you, especially when you’re begging him to stop or when you’re whimpering and crying. of course he doesn’t hurt you, instead he pleasures until you can’t take it anymore, until you want it to stop but he just won’t. sometimes he’ll grab you from behind when you least expect it, blindfold and gag you, tie you up and fuck you senseless.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he’s a simple man with simple pleasures, taking you on a bed or the sofa in his shack is good enough for him, anything with soft padding for him and you to be comfortable. but sometimes he likes to mix it up, fucking you in a victims car or bending you over a table in his mothers house and having his way with you. it depends on his mood like usual, it doesn’t matter where it is as long as he gets to cum in you — but he does have a preference for the risky areas, the outdoor places where you have the chance to be caught, or even just places where he didn’t bother locking the door.

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

he’s a pretty simple man so a lot of things you do turn him on, it can be as simple as seeing you all warm and bothered on a hot summers day or seeing you bend over picking something up off the floor. but some other things are a little meaner, like seeing you cry when you’re upset or when you’re annoyed with him and you pout all cute like. his favourite thing though, is when you’re angry or really upset, shouting at him, pushing him away or pounding on his chest to get him away — that instantly sends the blood to his cock.

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

there isn’t much he wouldn’t do, or at least there isn’t really any hard no’s. but he isn’t a fan of threesomes, he doesn’t like the idea of anyone else touching you, pleasing you — he knows he’s enough for you and you’re enough for him, so why would you want to invite someone else into the bedroom? as for turn offs, there isn’t really many, something might turn his off once because of his mood or just how he’s feeling on that day but then it might not the next time.

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

just like most people, he loves recieving and seeing you on your knees, especially when you’re choking and gagging on him. but he absolutely loves going down on you, he loves to pleasure you and anything that gets you moaning his name, he loves. he’s really good at it too, he was already good before he met you but he’s learnt exactly what gets you going, and god knows he can work miracles with that tongue of his. there are times he’ll go down on you for the sake of it, not even expecting it to be foreplay for sex. he’ll just push you up against something and drop to his knees, pushing your panties to the side and eating you out, then he’ll just go about the rest of his day like normal after making you come on his face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he goes between fast and rough and slow and sensual, but most of the time he likes it fast and rough. throwing you about and using you as a glorified fleshlight and making you come at his will is just too much to pass up. when he’s been more romantic or sensual, he likes to have you in missionary, his head buried in the crook of your neck where his moans and sighs are slightly muffled, and he can just push his cock into you nice and slowly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

as much as he loves taking his time with you, he loves a good old fashioned quickie, bending you over some car or throwing you up against a wall when he needs to relieve himself. he’s worse with it when he’s had a bad day and something has annoyed him, he’ll practically hunt you down just to fuck you. he doesn’t have quickies every day, but it’ll be at least one or twice every couple of days.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

johnny is completely down for taking risks, fucking you in easily caught places and places that are pretty dangerous — the most noticeable place being near his mothers house, or even inside, he’ll drag you off somewhere when you’re visiting her and have his way with you then act like nothing happened when you can barely walk. he loves to experiment with you, too, after all he has some pretty out there kinks that you didn’t exactly like or ever think about trying, but he respects if you have hard no’s — he’s a lot more caring than he pretends to be.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

not so surprisingly, he has a lot of stamina, and can go a whole bunch of rounds, but usually he’ll tap out after two, or a very long session. he enjoys having multiple sessions throughout the day rather than all at once, because then he can burn off all that energy and anger he gets during the day. during a usual session, foreplay included, it’ll last around 45 minutes to an hour — after all, he really loves taking his time with you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

so he’s pretty hit and miss with toys, he didn’t exactly like them at first. he was kinda insulted when you brought up the idea of having a vibrator / when he found yours, because he took it that he wasn’t good enough for you and that you clearly needed to have something else make you come. after you finally convinced him to just use it on you during sex, his entire world lit up. watching how easy it was to have you a quivering, blubbering, sniveling mess sent blood rushing straight to his cock — and now a lot of the time, especially during longer sessions, he’ll use it on you to tease or give his hand a little bit of a break if he needs it. he also loves making you use it on yourself while he watches, sometimes wanking himself off while you make yourself come.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s a huuuuge tease, loves to edge you for as long as he can, it’s even better if he gets you to the edge of coming on a morning then he can leave for the day — but he tells you not to touch yourself, because he’ll know — sometimes he’ll even “check” during the day to make sure you haven’t made yourself come. if you’ve been good for him then he won’t tease you for too long, but it’s rare he goes a day without teasing you just a little bit. he just loves hearing you whimper and beg for him, and he gets off on being the only one that can make you come.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

johnny grunts and cusses a lot during sex, or even when you’re just teasing / going down on him. he has no issue being vocal anymore, although he was a lot quieter when you first got together. now he’s completely fine with moaning into your ear, and he actually loves moaning your name, he doesn’t even care who hears — he likes you knowing how good you make him feel, plus he knows how much it turns you on having him moaning and cussing when he’s deep inside you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

okay I’ve said it a million times, and I’ll say it a million more, he’s actually really sweet to you, and treats you like an angel. at first he’d be a little mean, still saying things that would hurt your feelings or just scaring you by him being him — but once you’d been dating awhile, he’s the “hurt them and I kill you” type guy, the one that’ll kill for you, the one that’ll die for you. he’s so wrapped around your little finger it’s almost unbelievable, he’s so in love that he’d do nearly anything you ask — but he’s only like that when you’re alone, for the most part. when you’re around other people he’s super possessive and lets others know who you belong to, always having a hand around your waist or yanking you into the most sexually fuelled kiss when someone talks to you for too long. nonetheless, he’d protect you with his life and is actually really sweet, in his own way, of course.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

okay he’s got a pretty huge dick, it’s 7”-7.5”, and it’s girthy as all hell, to the point he needs to warm you up a lot before even thinking about trying to push himself into you. he’s not cut, and he’s got a big fat vein that runs along the underside of his cock and it’s super sensitive around there, too. the closer to the tip of his cock, the more reddish purple it turns, especially when he’s hard. oh and let’s not forget, he’s got big, heavy balls as well.

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

he’s ridiculously horny, that man has a crazy sex drive and it was kinda hard to keep up with at first. he has a naturally high one anyway but it’s made worse by his obsession with you — he needs to be in you constantly, filling you, making you his. as soon as he wakes up he’s there being needy, he’s the exact same at night when you’re going to bed. and don’t be surprised if he doesn’t pull you round the back of a shack to fuck you during the day, too.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

johnny falls asleep instantly, there’s not a single thought behind that man’s eyes. and it’s made even worse when he tires himself out fucking you senseless a good few rounds before finishing — he’s the type that as soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s passed out snoring, mouth open, twitching and kicking you all night. or sometimes he’s just so still that you’re not sure he’s alive anymore, just perfectly motionless, couldn’t even be woken up by the end of the world.

#ꕤ 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘶𝘮 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 ⌨️ #tcm #johnny slaughter x female reader #johnny slaughter x reader #tcm the game #johnny slaughter #tcm x reader #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre

[kwanisms]

Kinkuary 07 Yeosang — degradation // panties

➥ dom!Yeosang × brat!Reader summary: Yeosang hates it when his girlfriend talks back so he decides to shut her up so he can use her without her running her mouth like the little brat she is. wc: 3.8k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, sexual content (minors dni!): dom!Yeosang, bratty!Reader, degradation (use of slut, whore, dirty/naughty girl, bitch, etc), Yeosang goes feral when the reader wears his favorite lingerie, use of panties as a gag, fingering, protected sex (reader is on birth control), a couple spanks, some hair pulling, Yeosang goes hard and rough but the aftercare is incredible and the post nut snuggles are 👌🏻 Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog Ateez taglist: @2hodefender @babyhailey819 @foxylilbitch @rdiamond2727 @indigo35 @sanjoongie @moonlightsora MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

a/n: i didnt mess up this time and remembered to finish editing the whole thing! Lmao anyway I almost made this a dom!Reader but I suck at writing those because I've never dommed in my life lmao plus, the idea of being a brat to Yeosang and having him shove my panties in my mouth to shut me up is top tier in my honest opinion. But don't worry, there will be more dom!Reader content later this month! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?��

Yeosang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

‘I love my girlfriend. I love my girlfriend,’ he told himself repeatedly in his head.

And it was true. He really did love you. You were one of the few people in the world that truly understood him.

It was rare for him to find someone who understood his humor, or could relate to him on a deeper level than whether or not they like pancakes or waffles more.

He’d never met someone he wanted to spend hours upon hours talking to about anything and everything until he met you.

He’d have to send Wooyoung another thank you card for bringing you to him.

Your existence was truly a blessing to Yeosang, but sometimes it was a curse.

Particularly when you were being a brat. Like right now.

God, when you acted like a brat, it drove Yeosang up the wall but he wasn’t above putting you in your place.

“Please, Y/N,” Yeosang tried again, attempting to be reasonable and not snap.

“Today is not the day to get on my bad side.”

He could see the way you tried to hide a smirk. ‘Goddamn it.’

“Oh really? And why is that?” you asked, sitting up on the bed in your shared bedroom.

Yeosang curled his fingers into his palms, balling his hands into fists.

You were really testing his patience today and he was over it.

“Y/N, honey, please. Just do this for me and don’t question me,” he asked, pleading with you to listen.

“Oh, breaking out the pet names now?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You really think that’s gonna sway me?”

‘Oh, that’s it.’

Yeosang moved in an instant, pushing you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you and hovering over you.

“I asked you nicely three times. You know what happens when you don’t listen?”

You tried to push him off you but he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head and pushing your thighs apart with his knee.

“Let me go,” you hissed, trying to pull free but he wasn’t going to give in easily.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” he growled, sitting back and shifting as he pulled you up, dragging you over his lap until your ass was in front of him.

“Yeos-AAH!” You cried out as his hand made contact with your ass, the sound ringing out.

“Count,” he ordered. You looked over your shoulder at him. “No,” you replied defiantly. Yeosang’s eyes narrowed and he landed another smack on your ass.

You cried out again, skin tingling from the pain. “Stop it!” You tried wriggling in his grasp but Yeosang held you still. “If you won’t hold still, I’ll tie you down!” He growled. “I’d like to see you try!” You hissed.

Yeosang threw you back onto the bed, getting up and moving to the dresser that stood against the wall. He pulled out something long and red and before you had a chance to get away, he had both your wrists bound together with the red satin rope and was using the tail to tie you to the footboard.

“Let me go, Yeosang!” You said, pulling on the rope and trying to yank it free but knowing your boyfriend, he tied the knot too well for it to just come loose.

You looked up at him, watching the way his chest rose and fell with each labored breath. His hair was tussled, strands falling into his face. He combed his fingers through his hair, pushing the stray strands away.

“Now you should calm down,” he said, kneeling on the bed.

“Like hell I will!” You growled at him. You felt another sharp smack to your bottom, making you moan this time. “I told you I’d teach you a lesson,” he said, moving to kneel behind you. “What are you doing?” You asked, trying to look over your shoulder at him. You felt his hands on your hips, smoothing over your shorts.

“Did you know you’re soaked through your shorts?” Yeosang asked, eyeing the wet patch where your crotch was. “No I didn’t,” you protested.

“Then did you piss yourself?” He demanded. “No!”

Yeosang returned his gaze to your clothed pussy.

“Then let’s have a look,” he said, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down with your underwear, exposing your obviously wet pussy to him.

“Yeosang!” You said indignantly, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“So you’re telling me you aren’t wet right now?” He asked, inspecting you, bringing a finger to your clit and swiping over it, collecting some of your arousal.

Your body jolted at the sensation and you dropped your head, letting out a whimper.

You heard Yeosang chuckle from behind you. Your head snapped back up. “What’s so funny?” You asked.

“You are,” he said, smoothing his hand over your ass, admiring the marks from spanking you just moments ago.

“How am I funny?” You demanded, still trying to glance back at Yeosang.

You felt him get off the bed and tried twisting to see where he went.

Suddenly you felt his hand close around one of your ankles and tug, forcing you to fall onto the mattress and a yelp to erupt past your lips. With you stretched out, he removed your shorts and panties fully.

“You could have asked for my help!” you whined, rolling onto your side to look at him. Your eyes widened when you realized he was holding your panties in his hand, staring at them intently. His head turned slowly to gaze at you, making you feel smaller and like prey caught in a trap and a predator happened upon you.

“So you thought you’d just wear these and I wouldn’t find out?” Yeosang asked, his voice low as he walked around to the footboard of the bed. You swallowed the lump in your throat, your words failing you.

In his hand was a pair of black mesh panties. They were part of a set that Yeosang had claimed was his favorite one and one you knew he loved to see you wear. The back was made up of a complex mess of straps while the front was the mesh material. The matching bra, which you were indeed wearing, was the same black mesh with straps made from a soft black elastic,

Yeosang grabbed your shirt by the hem and pulled it over your head, letting it fall onto your arms.

“You were prepared,” he said admiring the black mesh and the way it looked against your skin.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He asked. You shook your head. “No. My comfy set is in the wash,” you answered. It was the truth. Your comfiest set of underwear was in the wash and this was the next most comfortable.

“Sounds like a lie,” he said, walking back around to the side of the bed and climbing on behind you.

“It’s the truth!” You whined as he grabbed your hips and pushed you onto your stomach before he pulled you up onto your knees, keeping your chest pressed against the mattress.

Yeosang scoffed, not buying your explanation. “Uh-huh. Sure it is, slut,” he said. You opened your mouth to talk back but gasped when you felt him pull your ass back against him, grinding his hard erection into you.

He leaned over, a smirk on his face. “What, no witty comeback?” He asked before pressing a kiss to your shoulder and leaning closer to your ear. “Color?”

That was something you loved about Yeosang. No matter what role he slipped into, he made sure to check with you that you were okay. You’d both decided to use the color system in addition to a safeword. When he wasn’t sure whether or not to continue, he’d ask you for a color. Green for good, yellow for change, and red for stop.

“Green,” you whispered, trying to hide your smile as he pulled himself upright.

“God,” he said, looking down where your wet heat had rubbed against his pants, leaving a noticeable wet patch.

“You’re so wet that you could soak my pants,” he said, giving your hips a firm squeeze.

“I bet you’re so wet you could take my cock right now without any prep,” he added, moving his hands to your ass and spreading you so he could see your cunt unobstructed. “Wanna test it?” He asked, a hint of amusement to his voice.

“You wouldn’t,” you said, voice shaking. His hands were so close to where you wanted them yet so far from giving you any sort of friction.

“I wouldn’t?” Yeosang asked, fingers digging into your skin, nails leaving crescent shapes behind.

“You don’t have it in you,” you said, your words hitting him unprepared. “You’re so whipped for this pussy.”

Without a word, Yeosang shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt, making you gasp.

“You mean this pussy?” He asked, curling his fingers slightly, making you whimper. “The one I’m going to fuck until I’ve pumped it full of my cum? The one that only I get to fuck? That pussy?”

You moaned, walls clenching around his fingers. “The-ng- the only way you’re getting it is by tying me down, Yeosang,” you replied, your hands balling into fists as Yeosang slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you.

“To teach you a lesson,” he retorted. “You’re being such a damn brat.”

You let a giggle slip out as you pushed back into his hand and just as quickly as he filled your cunt with his fingers, he left it empty, making you whine.

“Only good girls get to cum,” he said, leaning over your back as he brought his fingers to your mouth. “Open.”

You turned your head, refusing to obey him. “Don’t make me ask again, Y/N,” he growled, grabbing your chin with the other hand and bringing his fingers to your lips. “Open your fucking mouth, slut.”

He held your chin in place as you reluctantly parted your lips, allowing him to push his fingers into your mouth and onto your tongue, making you taste yourself. “Clean them,” he barked. Rather than make a fuss as his fingers were already in your mouth, you obeyed, tongue swirling around his fingers and sucking your arousal off them.

Yeosang released your chin, pleased with your compliance but he knew it wouldn’t last. It never did with you.

You, who liked to push his buttons. You, who liked to talk back and make things much more difficult than they needed to be. You were defiant in every way and tonight, Yeosang would finally put you in your place. If that was with a rough fucking, then so be it.

You opened your mouth, tilting your head back to show him that you could listen. He pulled his fingers from your mouth. “See?” You said, eyes shutting, quite pleased with yourself. “I can listen when I want to,” you added.

“So it would seem,” Yeosang said softly, his fingers keeping your mouth open as he looked inside it.

Without warning, he shoved something into your mouth, causing you to cry out in shock and your eyes to open.

“Don’t you dare push that out,” he growled, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. The ferocity in his voice made your legs quiver, sending chills up your spine. He’d never been so rough before and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you.

Yeosang waited for you to nod before his expression softened. “Green?” He asked softly. You nodded again and he let go of you.

“I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you,” he said in that same tone from before.

You heard the sound of his belt and a zipper being pulled before a slight rustle of cloth. Assuming he pushed his pants down, you waited for him to enter you, bracing yourself as you felt the tip of his cock rub against you ever so slightly but made no move to push into you.

After a couple moments, you opened your mouth to ask what the hold up was but found yourself unable to speak as Yeosang suddenly rammed into you, a scream ripping from your throat.

“Oh that’s new,” Yeosang said with a chuckle. “I’ve never made you scream before.”

“Mmhhmm,” you moaned, the sound muffled by the panties stuffed in your mouth. Your walls clenched around him as you tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Have I rendered you speechless in one thrust?” He asked in a mockingly sweet tone. “Where’s that attitude now?”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, even with the gag, before he started a punishing pace, his hips hitting your ass with each hard thrust. “I knew you’d take my cock easily,” he said, his breathing shaky as he continued to pound into you.

“Such a receptive little slut,” he purred, one hand tangling in your hair and pulling back, arching your back and making you moan again as his hips continued their assault. “Still green, baby?” He whispered near your ear, loosening his grip on your hair so you could nod quickly. “Good girl,” he said, a rare praise that made your heart swell and sent butterflies to your stomach.

His grip tightened and he pulled back again.

Moans left your mouth, muffled by your gag, with each hard thrust he gave you. His cock hit deeper than he’d ever hit before, making you see stars in your vision. You could feel something running down the inside of your thighs and assumed it was your own arousal. “F-fuuuck,” Yeosang groaned from behind you.

“You take my cock so well. Such a greedy little cunt you have,” he added, punctuating his sentence with a harsh thrust. He looked down where your bodies connected and was surprised to see how you’d gotten even wetter as he fucked you.

“Looks like you’re making a mess. You’re so fucking filthy,” he scoffed. “What a dumb, dirty little whore. You like being used like this?” He asked, leaning forward and pulling your head back to look up at him.

You were an absolute vision. Black panties shoved into your mouth, cheeks red and eyes glossed over. “Shit, look at you,” Yeosang said, a smirk forming on his face. “You love this, don’t you? Being tied up and letting me use this tight little hole, you just love it don’t you?”

You couldn’t respond, even if you didn’t have your panties in your mouth.

Yeosang's hips slowed to a stop, making you ask what he was doing, albeit in a very muffled voice.

When he didn’t answer, you pushed back against him, urging him to move. You felt his hand make contact with your ass cheek, your body reacting and a moan sounding from your throat.

“Are you that needy you have to fuck yourself on my cock? Can’t wait for me?”

You shook your head, knowing if he thought you didn’t need him to move, he’d make you do all the work.

Yeosang let out a growl, resuming the same unrelenting pace from before.

“You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to play,” he panted.

His hands held your hips, pulling you back to meet each thrust, making more muffled moans slip past your gag. You dug your fingers into the sheets, trying to ground yourself against his force.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Just sit there and take what I give you, stupid slut,” he growled.

Your head dropped, forehead resting against your forearms, eyes shutting as you lost yourself in the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls with each thrust, the head hitting your most sensitive spots. You weren’t going to last if he kept going like this.

“You falling asleep?” He asked, the dominant tone in his voice gone. It was replaced by pure concern.

You lifted your head, shaking it and putting his worry at ease.

“Green?” He asked, confirming you were still good. You nodded again.

“Good, I’m close. Are you close?” He whispered. You nodded with a moan, your walls squeezing him as your orgasm drew closer and closer.

Yeosang reached around your stomach, darting between your thighs and finding your clit and drawing circles in time with his thrusts. You let out a cry, body tensing as your climax started to wash over you. “That’s it, come for me,” Yeosang whispered, his lips inches from your ear. “Good girl. You did so well.”

The soft tone of his voice as he coaxed you through your orgasm had your mind reeling, thighs squeezing together as the aftershocks of your high rolled over you.

The constant convulsing of your cunt around his cock pushed Yeosang over the edge and he came inside you, filling your heat with his load as he continued to thrust erratically, fucking his cum further into you as a small amount spilled out of your used hole, rolling down your thighs and dripping onto the bed below.

“Fuck!” Yeosang growled, his hips finally stilling and his cock buried deep inside your already full cunt.

He pulled his hand away from your swollen and sensitive clit, pulling your panties from your mouth and tossing them somewhere in the room. He’d worry about them later.

“Talk to me baby,” he murmured, pressing light kisses to your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, body shaking as you tried to keep yourself up but your thighs were numb and shaking.

“I can’t feel my legs,” you muttered. Yeosang pulled out of you, wincing as more of his cum spilled out of you. He was gonna have to wash the sheets tonight.

“Hang on, baby,” he said, pulling his pants up and zipping them up. He moved around the bed to untie you from the footboard. He worked quickly, untying your wrists and pulling the rope from them, letting it fall to the floor. Another thing he’d worry about later.

He carefully laid you down on your side, hands moving to massage your thighs. “I’ll be right back,” he said softly, getting up from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

You heard the water running and a moment later, he reappeared, stripping himself of his clothes and pulling on clean ones.

He returned to your side, taking your wrists gently in his hands and rubbing the marks from the ropes.

“Was it too tight?” He asked, looking into your face. You shook your head. “No. Was perfect. Thank you,” you mumbled sleepily. Yeosang cupped your cheek, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. “Stay awake, baby. You can’t go to sleep yet.”

“But ‘m so sleepy,” you whined. Yeosang chuckled, the hand on your cheek moving to comb through your hair. “I know sweetheart, but I can’t let you sleep until after I care for you. Can you walk?”

You shook your head again. “Legs don’t work.”

Yeosang stood up, scooting you towards the edge of the bed before lifting you carefully and carrying you into the bathroom. He set you on your feet, keeping you upright as the blood started to work its way back into your legs. He helped you lift your leg and lowered you into the hot bath water before turning it off.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair and disappearing through the door.

You inspected your wrists, the red marks from the rope starting to dissipate. You stretched your legs, trying to get the blood flowing again.

Yeosang returned after a few minutes, during which you were able to get your legs working. “You okay?” He asked, kneeling by the side of the tub, setting a fresh towel and clean clothes on the closed lid of the toilet.

“‘M okay, Yeo,” you affirmed, smiling at your boyfriend. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

“You want to stay in there a little longer or get out?” He asked, nodding at the tub. “I could stay a little longer,” you answered. Yeosang moved to sit on the side of the tub, grabbing your favorite bath sponge. “Then lean forward for me a little bit?” He asked, smiling when you obliged him without fuss.

He carefully scrubbed and massaged your back, fingers working over your shoulders as well. Watching your reaction, Yeosang dragged the mesh sponge down your chest, past your stomach and between your legs. Your lips parted in a sigh as he worked the sponge against your skin soothingly, scrubbing off any remnants of his and your cum. He left no spot untouched and kept going until the water started to cool down.

Once you were clean, he pulled the plug and helped you stand, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around you. It wasn’t the first time Yeosang had helped dry your body and it wouldn’t be the last.

After he was certain you were sufficiently dry, he helped you dress, allowing you to hold his shoulder to keep balance as he held your underwear for you to step into, pulling it up and doing the same for your shorts. Your shirt was the easy part,

He led you back into the bedroom and you saw he’d pulled the sheets and put fresh ones on. He sat you down and sat next to you, grabbing a bottle of water from the side table where a plate of fruit sat as well.

You looked at him as he twisted the cap off the bottle of water.

“You always take such good care of me,” you muttered as he handed you the water, grabbing the plate of fruit and snacking on a grape.

“Well,” he said, swallowing his bite. “I may call you mean things during sex,” he explained.

“But you’re still my baby girl,” he added in a much quieter voice. “I wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if I didn’t pamper you after what I just put your body through.”

You smiled again, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Yeo,” you whispered.

The two of you finished off the fruit and water before climbing into bed. Yeosang reached over to turn off the lamp beside the bed, throwing the room into darkness before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close.

“Yay,” you said softly, making him chuckle. “What?” He asked.

“This is my favorite part,” you replied. “What is? Sleeping?” Yeosang asked with a laugh.

“No,” you answered. “The snuggles.” Yeosang smiled at you in the darkness, kissing your hair.

“Ahh, the snuggles,” he repeated, you nodding in response.

“Yeah, post nut snuggles are the best.”

#ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #kang yeosang #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagines #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

[nekoashiii]

Hi! I was just wondering do you think the yandere genshin cult (?) would act different if their creator was a teen? I don't think the age of reader is mentioned in them so idk if it would change

Hello :D

Well it depends if we go the normal sagau or the actual realistic religious way.

I will choose the second option for this post.

Honestly it's a bit weird and messed up the way they act, because they just think you are over 10000000 years old and just shapeshifted into a young teen, same goes if it's just a simple 6 y/o kid.

So yes they will act as if you are an adult like them, bringing you to decided on important trading meetings, etc

Even families from each land would favour their kid that is as old as you

Like if you are idk 15, families would show everyone that they have a child as old as their god shapeshifted as, it's a bit confusing

But oh dear God. If you are a young young kid, 8 years old, 7 years old, just remember something. Your word is law, just say you hate green, pink idk, countries would quickly get rid of that color, it would be considered bad luck and criminals would be shown with that color.

Oh you hate tomato? Criminals that did horrible things can only eat tomatos as their punishment. A kid didn't do their homework? They are punished by eating tomato or just any food you hate

Listen if I was you I would take advantage of this power.

You sit down with zhongli, tartaglia and others surrounding you, talking to you as if you actually know whats happening, you suddenly start telling them a story you read some weeks before getting Isekaid here. I kid you not people are writing what you say each second in books.

No joke you actually live in a palace like those Chinese drama series we all have watched. Just teen reader walking while servants and probably some of their acolytes following them. And those two people with pens and books ready to write down anything you say

Tbh it's just. Not normal I don't know how to say it, but it's not your typical sagau where you sit on a throne room and done, the god on throne while nobody is daring to surround them

Plus if you are under 16, they won't allow you to even walk, you should be carried like this:

But you being a toddler, younger than 6 years old means chaos, because you need a babysitter, and trust me Snezhnayans are absolutely killing anyone and everything just to be your babysitter

Homies even pantalone was a volunteer.

Anyways what should I name this au?? I really enjoyed writing for it, sooo I will continue it with more fun ideas

Because like when you are young and have a whole palace for yourself is such a dream bro, you are lucky 🙄🙄

#genshin impact x reader #sagau #yandere genshin impact #sagau yandere #genshin sagau #sagau fatui #sagau x reader #yandere cult genshin #x reader #yandere sagau #sagau jean #sagau mondstadt #sagau zhongli

[cottonlemonade]

A Simpler Life - Masterlist and random Headcanons

pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn, eventual smut warnings: spoilers, eventual mdni, nsfw (part 4) synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor. [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]

____________________________________________ Here are some thoughts I had while writing that didn’t find a space in the story:

> it took Kita a solid hour to formulate his first note to you

> before having sex for the first time, Kita goes to buy condoms while he is on an errand in the city so as to not alert the entire town - he is really careful about it all only to then realize that you went to buy condoms at the town‘s pharmacy so all his sneaking was for naught and he gets knowing looks next time he’s grabbing supplies from the local hardware store

> he swears the local grannies to secrecy so nothing gets back to Yumie before it‘s time

> he has definitely been happy about accidentally cutting his hand while trimming a tree because he was looking forward to getting fussed over by you

> when you start dating, Roku‘s bed systematically moves closer to the house every couple of weeks - of course Kita notices but he doesn‘t say anything because he thinks it‘s too adorable and by Christmas morning Roku‘s bed is inside, in the corner next to the front door

> I looked up typical dog names in Japan and found that it‘s usual to name dogs numbers depending on their litter size and it felt very appropriate for Kita to do that (Roku means six)

> when you mention that you miss certain veggies from your home country that are not readily available in Japan Kita goes out of his way to grow them for you in his greenhouse

> Kita continues to run his farm successfully while you spend your days helping out around town with whatever necessary 

someone called in sick at the bookstore? They call you to jump in

they need help organizing a school festival? They know you have the best ideas

one of the grannies wants to paint her bedroom pink? She knows who to call

these little odd jobs fulfill you so much more than any office ever did and Kita is so ridiculously proud of how fast you became such an integral part of his community

> he proposes to you with those little wild tulips

> (I chose these plants because a) I wanted a small wildflower native to Japan and b) white tulips symbolize purity, innocence and respect, plus these particular flowers (tulipa edulis) are said to have an effect of vigor - imo that just fit perfectly because as I said before, once Kita has you, he is insatiable)

____________________________________________

#kita x chubby reader #kita shinsuke x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #kita shinsuke x you #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu kita #kita fluff #kita shinsuke #hq kita #kita x reader #kita smut #kita headcanons #kita imagine