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#the boys drabble
raz-writes-the-thing · 3 months
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My Command (The Boys Drabble)
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Soldier Boy x GN!Reader / requests are open
Summary: Soldier Boy knows just how to push your buttons.
Fic type: fluff-adjacent
The Boys: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"Listen, I know you're, like, all stunted from being under all that time, but please have just a little bit of respect," you said, pointing an accusing finger at the man before you.
The way Soldier Boy was looking at that finger, he was thinking one of two things. One, he was thinking about snapping it right off, or two, he was thinking about putting it in his mouth and watching you flounder. Quite possibly both, actually, now that you thought about it.
"Come on, sweetheart," he replied, that cocky grin of his sliding into place. "You know I was only playing around, right?"
You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing for certain that he had not been joking but that he just didn't want to piss you off because he wanted to get into your pants later.
"Alright, so I wasn't joking, but maybe you just need to learn how to relax," he snorted, closing in on you. Your mouth thinned out into a grimace as he wrapped his arms around your waist and eyed you up and down appreciatively. "Come on," he drawled. "Give an old timer a break."
You forgot how warm his hands were- like radioactive furnaces. Maybe they were. You melted just a little into his arms.
"You know you love it when I get mad at you," you breathed, caught up in all those pretty lines of his face. Soldier Boy nodded, clearly amused.
"Me? Oh yeah," he said, coming in to nip your jaw. "Who doesn't love a good angry fuck, huh?"
You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing yourself close. Sometimes you wished he wouldn't wear his supe suit all the time. You liked to feel his skin on yours.
"This suit isn't great for cuddles," you pouted, tugging lightly at the raised edge of his breastplate. "I think we better remove it."
Soldier Boy's grin widened even further if that were at all possible, and he hoisted you up so you could wrap your legs around his hips.
"Your wish is my command."
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kaleldobrev · 3 months
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Soldier Boy/Ben Masterlist
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A rebloggable Soldier Boy/Ben Masterlist for your viewing and reading pleasure. All stories are Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader unless otherwise stated
Authors Note: Will update this as I post more stories
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A Simple Misunderstanding (3.3k) | Hughie might of overheard something he probably shouldn’t have between you and Ben
I Want Them To Hear (3k) | Ben wants to make sure Hughie knows what it actually sounds like when the two of you have sex. In other words, Ben makes damn sure Hughie gets yet another night of no sleep because of the two of you.
A Small Favor In Return (4.8k) | Finding out you’re dating Soldier Boy, your graduate school professor asks you for a small favor. When you tell Ben about it he agrees (much to your surprise) but the only way he’ll do it is if you do a small favor for him in return.
Hard to Believe (581) | Ben tells you something that you weren’t quite expecting
A Big Ask (1.1k) | Ben has a big ask for you
Memories Are All I Have (1.3k) | You’re all Ben thinks about while he’s in Russia
From Russia With Love (1.5k) | You’re the first person Ben goes to see after escaping from Russia
Possessive (2.3k) | Ben is highly against when other men hit on you
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jawritter · 2 years
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So this is a little different…
but could you maybe show soldier boy being a gentleman for once with his gf and can she be pregnant? and maybe make it smutty
I like that name...
Warning: Smut, unprotected smut, pregnancy, Soldier Boy being unnaturally fluffly. SPN Easter Egg, because if the boys can do it so I can lol. 
Pairing:  Soldier Boy x Pregnant!Reader
Word Count: 421
Jens3kcelebration   Masterlist
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Ben lifted her leg a little higher, supporting most of her weight as he rolled his hips into her, groaning loudly as he buried his head in her shoulder, and her fingers brushed through his hair. She was so glad he’d decided to keep it longer than she remembered, and he loved her to play with it too, especially when he was having a bad day, which since they’d moved out to the country and away from everyone else, had become fewer and farther in between. 
“Is this okay? I’m not hurting you or the baby am I?” he asked for the thousandth time since they’d started, ever mindful of the growing bump that was her stomach. 
“I’m fine Ben I promise,” she shivered as he pressed deeper into her, keeping himself buried inside of her, hitting those places only he’d ever been able to reach, huffing as she ran her nails down his board, muscular chest as her pussy started to quiver around him, and his own hips started to falter, sending them both careening over the edge together. 
When he’d finally rolled himself to her side, pulling her as close to him as he thought safe to do, he nuzzled his face into her hair, peppering her with little kisses, lacing his fingers with her own over her stomach. 
This was it for him. This is what he’d always wanted. If he had to do it all over again, he’d do it the same, and wouldn’t change a thing, as long as it brought him right back here, with her in his arms, and his baby growing healthy in her belly. In a house that he owned in the land he’d fought and served for. Safe. Loved. Content. 
“What do you think it’s gonna be?” She asked, and he hummed, kissing her temple as he settled them down lower into the mess of covers on the bed. 
“Think it’s a boy,” he murmured, his deep, smooth voice sending a shiver down her spine, and she hummed in equal contentment. 
“If it’s a boy, what do you think we should name him?” She questioned, turning in his arms just enough to see his sparkling green eyes staring back at her so full of love and devotion. 
“Hmm,” he thought for a moment, his brow scrunched slightly in concentration. He was too damn cute for his own good sometimes, or maybe that was just the hormones talking. 
“Dean, Dean’s a good, strong name. I like Dean.”
“Okay, then Dean it is.”
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ichorai · 2 years
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nina cried power ; frenchie.
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track one of WASTELAND, BABY!
pairing ; frenchie x gn!reader
synopsis ; he calls you a plethora of endearing french nicknames, but you call him an asshole.
words ; 1.9k
themes ; angst, fluff, mild action
warnings / includes ; profanity, kissing, blood and injuries, near death experiences and emotional constipation <3 a bunch of french pet names, frenchie is lovesick, reader is part of the boys gang, the rest of the members are mentioned, hughie and reader are also mentioned to be close friends
main masterlist.
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The rag between your teeth tasted disgusting. Sweat and grime and flecks of blood stained the once-white fabric—which had come from Frenchie’s own shirt he tore to shreds to bind your wounds. You bit down harder, tongue retracting further down your throat in hazy revulsion, groaning in pain when you felt his hands all over your abdomen, doused with your dark ichor, his expression heavy-set with frantic concern.
“Hold still, mon amour,” he said, brows drawing together when you ignored him completely, roaring obscenities behind the fabric and thrashed even harder. What a fucking asshole. Memories of the first time you met Frenchie flashed behind your eyelids—he had stuck a gun beneath your jaw with a snarl and the rest was history. A complete one-eighty to his expression now. “HUGHIE, HOLD THEM DOWN!” he screamed, completely strung-up.
Faintly, you registered another pair of hands pinning you to the cold tiles of the floor, and your friend’s stuttering melded into the cavernous cacophony ringing in your ears. It felt as if a fire was eating you alive, trying to crawl its way from inside out. Your skin was hot, nearly scalding to the touch.
You still couldn’t really remember what happened. 
Supes… there were supes there. One moment you were helping M.M. reload his gun, and the next, half a dozen quills were sticking out of your abdomen, dripping with strange green liquid you’d come to learn was venom. You were going to die, weren’t you?
Frenchie had screamed your name—you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that. See, he always referred to you with endearing french nicknames that you really didn’t care for (lies, you were quite fond of his silly little pet names). You, however, called him an asshole. Sometimes affectionate, and most of the time, you really meant it.
But not this time.
Instead, you glanced at him with mild confusion, before looking down at your stomach, then back up at him. “Frenchie…?” you asked quietly, before collapsing to the ground.
The car ride back to base was painful. Butcher drove like a madman, and Hughie was sweating bullets in the passenger seat, constantly glancing back at you writhing in the backseats. Frenchie had situated you so your head was in his lap as he crooned reassurances that you couldn’t even hear.
God, everything was so dark. So loud. You wanted to claw at Frenchie’s arms and tell him that you hated him. Or that you loved him. Either would work. Damn it, the venom was messing with your mind. 
And that’s how you ended up with Frenchie’s shirt shoved between your teeth as you screamed bloody murder, calling him a bastard as he dug his fingers into the sloppy mess that was your stomach, muttering apologies over and over and over again.
“STOP!” you wailed, kicking at his knee when the agony tore you apart, tears streaking lines through the dirt on your cheeks. “You fuck—fucking asshole!”
He didn’t stop. 
If he did, you’d die. You weren’t a Supe, no matter how tough you presented yourself to be. Ironically enough, your utility belt clipped around your waist was shoved lower so he could work on your wounds, various sharp blades pressing dangerously against your back.
You had passed out from the pain at one point, going limp in his hold, which sent him into another frenzy. He snapped at Butcher with a fiery rage he’d never shown him before when the man offered to give you some temp V to speed up your healing. 
It took hours until he was done. You’d lost a lot of blood, but he managed to staunch it enough—it was messy, but it’d do. The red slick still left a part-sticky, part-dried residue over the skin of his hands, but he didn’t bother to wash it off. He refused to leave your side. So there he sat, shirtless and filthy, pressing kisses to the side of your sweaty head. It wasn’t often that he cried, but he cried for you. He didn’t even care that M.M. and Kimiko were sending him concerned glances. 
He just wanted you to be alright.
It was reassuring to see your chest rise and fall rhythmically. “Come back to me, mon chou. Come back.”
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You woke up with a start. The first thing you registered was the thirst. Your throat was barren of any moisture, so you croaked out a raspy, garbled noise, barely loud enough to alert Frenchie who had passed out with his head propped on your shoulder. 
He sprang upwards, eyes flying wide open and lips parted as he cradled your face. The calluses of his fingers felt rough on your cheeks, and normally you would’ve grumbled at him, tell him to bugger off in true Butcher-like fashion, but all that came out was a quiet rumble of temporary relief.
“Wa… er,” you hacked out, grimacing at the scratchiness of your voice.
“I’ll get you water, ma puce, I’ll be right back,” he rushed to say, chapped lips coming forward to hastily slant over your forehead. “Don’t move.”
You had half the mind to chuckle at that. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to.
He disappeared through the door, and you suddenly felt cold without his presence. A tremor spidered up your spine. The pain in your abdomen was still there, now dulled to a faint throbbing. You realized that your bandages were far cleaner than when you had passed out, face clean and free of dirt.
A queer sort of sadness wrapped its dark palm over your heart. Frenchie took good care of you.
M.M. appeared by the doorway, wearing a mildly guilty expression.
“Hey,” he said, ambling closer. “How you feeling, kiddo?”
You lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. 
Gingerly rubbing the back of his head, M.M. whistled out a long exhale. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you’re hurt. And you saved my life. Thank you. Frenchie definitely gave me a mouthful when you were asleep.”
You allowed for a small grin to play at the corner of your lips. 
“He never left your side, you know,” M.M. mumbled. “He really cares about you. Loves you, even.”
After a considerably lengthy silence, you cracked open your mouth to hoarsely whisper out, “He’s an asshole.”
M.M. regarded you with a quirked brow. “And you aren’t? Come on. The two of you are perfect for each other.”
“He doesn’t love me,” you said in a small voice, staring at a particularly interesting spot on the floor. “He loves the idea of me, but not me.”
“What?”
The sound of that French accent by the door made your heart drop down to your stomach. Your eyes shot up to see Frenchie holding a glass of water, staring at you with an expression that so clearly read anguish.
M.M. pursed his lips awkwardly and sent you one last nod before doggedly bowing his head and striding out. Frenchie didn’t acknowledge him, gaze glued on you, shuffling forward and holding out the glass.
You made to take it from him, but he merely tutted, using his free hand to lift your chin and raise the cup to your lips. If you weren’t so desperately impatient, you would’ve protested. Just this one. This one time, you’d let him take care of you.
The water was heaven on your tongue. You gulped down so quickly that you nearly cried with relief, droplets falling from the corner of your mouth and meandering down your jaw. 
“Slowly, slowly, mon trésor,” he crooned, before placing the glass down. There was a tender look to his eye that you misliked. Asshole. “Good?”
“Good,” you croaked. A frown molded over your visage.
“What was that about, mon amour?” he asked, sitting on the mattress. “You think I don’t love you? Why on earth would you think that?”
When you refused to meet his eyes, Frenchie slotted his palm beneath your chin once again, gently running his thumb over your jaw until you reluctantly moved your irises to meet his.
“There you are. Bonjour, mon chou.”
“Hey, asshole.” 
Much to your chagrin, Frenchie threw his head back and laughed. It was a genuine laugh, full-chested and lively. 
“I love you. I love you so fucking much. I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t know how to get you to believe me.”
You wanted to believe him so badly. Was it because you loved him, too? Or was it because you just wanted any love?
 “Then show me.” The words were soft—so quiet it was near indiscernible. 
Initially, there was a beat of shocked silence. Then, Frenchie didn’t waste any time leaning forward and kissing you gently, enveloping your lips with his own. He cradled your jaw with shaking fingers, nose slotted against yours so that it brushed your cheek when he angled his head to the side. It was so slow, so soft, so very warm that you nearly crumbled into a million pieces under his touch. 
He kissed like it was the last time he’d ever be able to do so. His brows furrowed in concentration, as if this was his one and only chance to show you just how much he adored you. 
When you finally broke away, you had a palm pressed against his bare chest. He knocked his forehead against yours affectionately, a pleased grin playing on his lips.
“Do you believe me now?” he asked. Before even giving you the chance to reply, he swooped back down to kiss you again. “And now?”
“You’re annoying, you know that?” you replied easily, though with a fond smile etched over your mouth. A sudden wave of bashfulness tumbled over you. You tilted your head slightly, averting your gaze once more. “Thank you. For saving my life. I could’ve died if it weren’t for you.”
He waved your sentiment away. “Bah, I didn’t do much. I cried—and I nearly pissed my pants. I was afraid you’d… you…” The words died on his tongue. He didn’t have the heart to finish his sentence.
“I’m okay,” you susurrated, leaning forward so that his nose bumped into yours. “Thanks to you. I owe you one, asshole. I owe you big time.”
“You don’t owe me anything, mon ange. I just need to know that you’re alright,” he whispered, lips only a hair's breadth away from yours—
Before Butcher sauntered in with his stupidly loud voice.
“Honeymoon’s over, you cunts!” he announced with his incredibly thick accent. Frenchie looked as if he was ready to commit homicide, and you could only muffle a snort of amusement, patting his bare shoulders in mock sympathy. The bearded man saluted you with a roguish leer. “Y/N, glad to see you’re back in tip-top shape. Hughie’s been a nervous little bird ever since you went down.” You most definitely weren’t in tip-top shape, but you supplied him with a forced smile that was far too wide to be deemed natural. It was nice to hear that your old friend was worried for you, though. 
Butcher clapped his hands together. "We’ve got some business to attend to."
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piratesfromspace · 2 years
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Forget (Frenchie x Reader)
Pairing: Serge ‘Frenchie’ x Reader
!! Light spoilers for The Boys Season 3 !! A filthy drabble for Frenchie, and what he does when he needs to forget TW: mention of blood, smut, p in v sex, dom/sub relationship (Sub!Frenchie), talk of oral sex, angst
MASTERLIST
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“More” his voice is strained, the column of his neck deliciously exposed. Her teeth sink into his skin, and he hiss in response.
“Shhh my sweet boy is greedy tonight” she smiles, “but that’s okay, I got you mon chéri, I’ll give you what you want in the end, don’t worry”.
She moves her hips slowly, riding him at a lazy rhythm. His shoulders are straining from his bound hands behind his back. She used the large leather cuffs tonight, she was being merciful. She knew what he needed. She always knows.
Everything had gone to shit, his life an endless stream of broken glass and broken bones. Of blood and gasoline. He’s fucking tired. He came to her to forget about it for a minute. At least in here, he was giving up control willingly, and the collar and leash he was wearing were real. Not the invisible chain so many yanked him by outside of this room. Nina. Butcher. For them he was nothing more than a guard dog. But for his girl? For his girl, he was a very good boy.
She sinks down on him once more, way too slow for his taste. But it’s for his own good, all he has to do is sit there with her in his lap and take it like a good boy. He drifts slowly into another space, focusing only on the softness of the leather and the wet warmth of her cunt around his leaking cock. The faint pain in his arms. The heavy collar on his neck, the familiar and comforting weight of it circling his throat. From time to time, she tugs on it, bringing his attention back to her when he is too far gone into his head. She ushers simple commands in her warm voice, guiding him, praising him. He’s going crazy with the slow pace, but it’s a kind of dreamy madness he loves so much. 
“You’re doing so good, baby. You can come if you want, whenever you’re ready.” she whispers, her nails tracing delicate patterns on his chest, down his abs. He lets out a whimper, a sound so unlike his tough persona, but he feels no shame, he’s way past that now. “You’re being so good for me, maybe I’ll let you eat me out after that, mmh? I could sit on your pretty face, would you like that?” she gives a hard tug on his collar, and he comes like this, mouth parted around a silent cry. She can see the pink of his tongue, and she decides that what she chose next is definitely a good idea. 
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yandere bunny hybrid x reader
A/n: the Intro was rushed because I got too excited to write the smut. Not proofread 🌺
Tw: noncon turns to dubcon, androgynous breeding kink, little dirty talk, he's a horny bastard. Mommy kink but it can be applied to any gender. Slapping body parts, he has a minor lactation kink. Mdni please!
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★you met the little furball while you were out on a evening walk. It was the middle of winter and being cooped up inside the house all day was starting to get a little claustrophobic
★you didn't notice him at first since he blended in with the snow. Stopping mid-walk when you heard a weak little whine coming from behind you. Slowly turning around, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from beneath the snow
★approaching them slowly, you could finally see him more clearly. Milky white skin turning a light blue due to hypothermia. He didn't have the strength to run when you picked him up. Patting his head, you headed back home.
★giving him a warm bath and setting him next to the fireplace, you slowly nursed him back to health. He was very reluctant at first, but your touch was too comforting to pull away from. He hasn't felt this safe since he was just a baby bun! He stayed with you nearly the entire winter
★midway he starts to get himself familiar with your home, peeking under furniture and into rooms, he seemed to understand you when you'd ask him questions in English
"what's your name little fella?"
"cotton.."
★eventually you had to let him go back into the wild, just a month before spring arrived. He was reluctant but with enough convincing he finally left. Looking back at you from the forest edge, watching you wave goodbye with that beautiful smile he loves
❣️cotton who goes into heat early because he can't stop thinking of you. Burrying himself in his burrow, humping the air. Nothing is as soft as you and your bed. Nothing can make him feel as safe as your touch does
❣️he shoos any females who wish to mate away. Claiming he already has a mate. Oh he wished you'd come into the forest looking for him, to take care of him again as he fills your tight little hole up with his cum
❣️he spends most of his time shamelessly masturbating to the thought of you. His entire heat cycle has been on loop since he left, so finally gathering the balls he heads back to your cottage. Watching you from a distance, lazily stroking his already sensitive cock.
★just minding your business, you don't notice the certain bunny hybrid approaching slowly. You don't have much time to react before a familiar mop of white hair tackles you to the ground. Desperately humping your clothed sex as he whines and grunts.
"cotton!? What the hell are you doing!?"
"hah- nhg need.. mate.. pretty mate.. need to breed! Ohh!"
★you tried pushing him off, but when did he get so strong!? Pining your arms down and ripping your clothes off, wasting no time in lapping at your genitals. Eating you out like a starved man, sucking and nipping your inner thighs until he's sure you're nice and lubed up
★he carefully pressed the tip in, but he doesn't last long as he slowly sinks deeper into your gummy walls. Letting go of your arms and roughly grabbing your hips, which were sure to bruise later, brutally fucking your brains out. Slapping your chest and privates as he grinds his cock deeper
★he keeps going even after he's ripped multiple orgasms out of you. The pleasure slowly chipping off your resistance. Leaving you a blubbering moaning mess under the bunny. A pool of his cum under where your sexes kept meeting.
★it doesn't matter what gender you are, he's determined to breed you until you're swelling with his children. He couldn't wait to suck and bite your chest once it was swollen with milk!
"gonna be so pretty- mph! So pretty, all swollen 'n fat with my babies.. gonna be a good mate, right? G-gonna give me lots of 'em right? Oh ohhh! Cumming again! 'Yer squeezing all my cum out! Mommy!!"
★let's just say that you should get use to your new roommate husband, because now there's no way of getting rid of him. Ever.
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saetoru · 11 months
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imagine rich boy gojo finding out your name for him in his phone is just “satoru” or something 💀 and then from the side geto is like “mine’s got an emoji!”
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。NO HEART — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
rich boy! gojo, college au, fluff, established relationships, dramatic gojo which is consistent in every version of him no matter the au
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studying with gojo satoru is the worst idea you could ever allow to happen—and yet, every time he asks, you let it happen.
“baby, aren’t you getting my texts?” gojo pouts. it earns him an unimpressed glare from you as you look up from your textbook, a glare that makes him wilt while geto snickers from the corner.
“satoru, if you don’t stop bothering me while we’re supposed to be studying, so help me—”
“but it’s funny, look,” he whines. and before you can stop him, he picks up the untouched phone beside you, tapping the screen to unlock it. except, he doesn’t make it that far.
suddenly the world stills. it stops spinning on its axis. and suddenly, gojo satoru’s face is the dictionary definition of devastation.
“satoru, what’s wrong,” you furrow your brows.
“satoru. satoru? satoru?” he repeats, each time in more disbelief than the last.
“that’s….your name, yes?” you raise a brow. and then realization strikes your features—or so he thinks. he’s soon to find out he’s mistaken. “oh, sorry,” you snort, “toru, is that better? toru, get to studying—”
“my name in your phone is just satoru?” he asks, cutting you off like you’ve genuinely wounded him—the betrayal on his face and the shock in his voice are all too real.
you blink for a moment before you realize the source of his tantrum seems to be the contact name you have for him in your phone. only gojo satoru would find a way to make a big deal out of his own name, you think.
“well, yeah,” you shrug, “it’s your name. plus i had it set when i first got your number from that project. i hated you back then.”
“you called me gojo back then,” he squints accusingly.
“yeah that’s because it was gojo satoru at first,” you nod. from the side, you hear geto snicker again about the full government name to himself—which earns him a pillow thrown at his direction by gojo. “i deleted the gojo part when we started dating,” you add.
“oh so you can delete my surname once we started dating but you couldn’t even add a heart?” he asks, jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed in that dramatic way he does. it’s a bit cute, the way he’s worked up over something so small—but it’s also entirely theatric, making you roll your eyes.
“would a heart make you feel better, satoru?” you purse your lips.
“no! not if you don’t add it because you want to,” he huffs, “you might as well just say you don’t love me!”
“satoru,” you sigh in exasperation. maybe if you didn’t have physics 1302 problems to work through—a whole six of them due before midnight, in fact—you would humor him in his elaborately dramatized attempt at getting your attention. but you have classes to pass and gpa’s to maintain, so you purse your lips instead. “it’s just a contact name. what’s mine?”
“it’s baby <3. with a heart. see?” sure enough, when his phone is turned to face you, it’s baby <3. with a heart.
“i have an emoji in my contact,” geto adds from the side, ever the instigator, “maybe it’s because i’m cuter—”
“you gave suguru’s an emoji?” he asks in distress, staring at you like you’ve told him you’ve cheated. you think you might hurt his feelings less if you did, with the way his lips are curled in a genuine frown.
“suguru set his own contact,” you defend, shooting the nuisance in the corner a sharp glare. geto only offers you a sly wink in return. “i didn’t realize you cared that much about contact names,” you shrug, “i can change it—”
“no need,” gojo huffs, holding up a hand to silence you as he turns away and sticks his nose in the air in defiance. “i’ll just change yours to your full government name. see how you like it.”
“satoru—”
“and you’re not getting a heart either,” he glares, deleting the <3 slowly just for show, making eye contact with you so you know the severity of your actions.
you roll your eyes, snatching your phone back as you shake your head. “if i make your contact baby <3 with a heart because you’re my baby, will that cheer you up,” you sigh.
he ponders it for a moment, as if debating the offer. and then his arms cross in defiance once more. “no. make it baby boy 💋 with a kiss emoji.”
“gross,” geto twists his face in disgust.
gojo turns to him, face blank and serious as he shoots, “single people should not speak when it’s not their turn,” before turning back to you. “i’ll consider forgiving you if you make it baby boy 💋 with a kiss.”
“okay,” you sigh, “baby boy it is.”
“with a kiss!” he glares.
“with a kiss,” you assure, rolling your eyes.
“can i also get a kiss?” he asks hopefully, eyes wide and bright and earnest enough to warm your heart.
you smile, chuckling at the way he looks so cute, at the way he melts your heart and makes you forget you have physics homework for a moment—but only for a moment because then you mumble, “no. now do your homework.”
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PLS THIS PROMPT KILLED ME
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suiana · 6 months
Text
✎ yandere! mean boy . . .
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✎ yandere! mean boy who's one of the most popular guys in the entire university. he's hot, smart, rich... he was perfect! ...but of course, he had a bad side to him as well. a side that you knew too well but others didn't. have i mentioned that he's only mean to you?
✎ yandere! mean boy who makes your university life as hard as he can. from minor inconveniences like bumping into you, to trying to ruin your reputation by gossiping about you to his friends. you're starting to wonder if he likes you? i mean, why else would he do this? you're not even in the same major! spoiler alert, he does like you. wow, who knew 🤯 ps, his friends are annoyed whenever he brings you up because once he starts talking about you he can't stop 💀
✎ yandere! mean boy who is very obviously in love with you. yeah, sure he might try to ruin your life but... he also spoils you! i mean, don't you see those gifts he left in your room? the new outfits in your closet? or the way your grades suddenly rose? that's all him! so... you should fall for him too now, right? boy is delusional 🔥🔥
✎ yandere! mean boy who's completely obsessed with you. unfortunately, poor fella doesn't know how to process his feelings and only shows disdain to you openly. if only you knew of the way his heart quickens every time you glance at him, or the way he jerks off to you to the numerous pictures he secretly took which are plastered on the walls of his mansion... he's such an idiot! when all he wants to do is worship you, he insults you instead :( not to worry... he'll be openly worshipping you soon enough. soon...
"watch your step."
he hisses as he glares at you. you only roll your eyes, continuing on your way to your lecture hall as you text your friend. seriously, this day was already bad and he just had to be here to worsen it? what luck you had.
you quicken your pace, trying to get to your location faster which only resulted in the university's mean boy (correction, he's only mean to you, so he's a secret mean boy) scowling and stomping right over to you.
"i said, watch your step!"
he yells out, grabbing your shoulder roughly as he turns around to face you. his hands shake slightly, still gripping onto your shoulder as his cheeks brun red. was it from anger or embarrassment? you'd never know. all he ever shows you is his disdain after all.
you stare at him with an irritated expression, eyeing him up and down before apologizing half-heartedly.
"sorry."
you then try shrugging his hand off you, clearly more annoyed than worried as the male continues to stare at you with an unreadable expression. cheeks flushed as he roughly takes his hand away before stomping off like an angry child. you merely shake your head at his actions. what a drama king he was.
jeez, he really is weird. always targeting you, and you only... what did you even do to get on his nerves? all you wanted was a peaceful university life! with good grades and a nice set of friends, and maybe even a lover if you were lucky! but no, he just had to have it out for you every. single. day.
and yet, he always seems to have a red flush on his cheeks whenever he does so. and the multiple times you've passed his friend group he always seems to be talking about you. is he bipolar? does he secretly like you? is he a tsundere?
you grumble slightly as you quickly rush off to your lecture. damn, he made you late. what an annoying guy.
meanwhile, your secret mean boy was struggling to contain his screams as he hid behind a wall after stomping off. with laboured breaths, flushed cheeks and hearts for pupils, he giggled like a patient from the mental hospital.
ah..! you touched him! touched him! if he imagines hard enough, he can pretend you're gently carressing him! that you're looking at him just like he looks at you!
he shakily stares at the hand you swatted away, smile errily wide as soft giggles escape him. ah, you're so cute when you look at him like that... when you look at him in irritation... would you look like that when he exposes the fact that he loves you? or when you're married and he accidentally burns his food? would you push him away and quickly cook up another meal?
he giggles like a high school girl in love, breathing growing increasingly erratic as he places both his hands over his chest.
ah...
he wants to touch you again.
he wants to see more of your expressions.
he wants you.
and he will have you.
whether you like it or not.
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sky-high-standards · 20 days
Text
Yandere Host x reader
Gonna try a new writing style for this one
Yandere host~ Who was on the job charming his clients and giving them a false sense of worth when you walked in
Yandere host~ Who couldn't deny that you were very beautiful, and he couldn't wait to toy with you.
Yandere host~ Who was shocked and offended when you pushed him away and said it was your friend that had a hosting appointment not you.
Yandere host~ Who did indeed charm your friend but glanced at you every time as a desperate attempt to make you jealous or convince you to make an appointment yourself.
Yandere host~ Who was stunned and flabbergasted to find out that you weren't interested in him at all how couldn't you like him he's so pretty.
Yandere host~ Who decided to get close to your friend to get closer to you which did indeed work.
Yandere host~ Who was thrilled to find out that you'd be making host appointments, but that joy turned into jealousy and heartbreak when he found out you made appointments for other hosts and not him.
Yandere host~ Who would ignore his clients and stare at you from across the room with jealous eyes burning holes into the people that would host you.
Yandere host~ Who asks your friend everything about you which makes the whole thing about you not her.
Yandere host~ Who genuinely falls in love with you after hearing more and more about you.
Yandere host~ Who constantly asks you out and gets pouty and sulky every time you reject him only to ask you again the next day.
Yandere host~ Who one by one "gets rid of" all the other hosts so you'll have no choice but to let him host you.
Yandere host ~ Who's the definition of clingy and loves your personal space and is the equivalent to a puppy when you're around.
Yandere host~ Who always slips something into your tea and you always wake up in his embrace or with marks on your neck and chest (or both more often then not).
Yandere host~ Who will do anything and I mean anything or your attention and much more for your affection.
"Why can't you love me? It can't be that hard..."
Remember Jesus loves y'all and he's the truth the way and will forgive and deliver us if we put our faith in him.♥
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crvptidgf · 7 months
Text
Read For Me
Mattheo Riddle x Reader (smut)
➸ summary: Mattheo finds the perfect way to help the reader relax after a tough day
➸ warnings/notes: sexual content ahead! 18+ ONLY, viewer discretion is advised. TAGS: fingering, slight praise kink, heavy petting, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+
➸ requested?: yes ↴
- soft smut where she’s reading in his lap while he’s leaning against the bedpost holding the book and turning the pages while she keeps reading it
word count: 1.1k
————————
YOU HAD BEEN quite stressed the whole day. Nothing seemed to go your way, and when you finally finished your lectures for the day, all you wanted to do was just curl up with your boyfriend on the bed.
That’s where you were currently.
Your back was pressed against his chest as he held up the book you were reading with one hand. The other one was rested against your abdomen as you read aloud, turning the page whenever it was needed.
At some point your eyes drifted away from the book and was instead focused on the way Mattheo’s arms looked under this lighting.
His veins were incredibly pronounced, thanks to the table lamp causing shadows to occur all over his skin. The way his arms flexed when he gripped the book just a little tighter made your stomach flutter, and you tried to ignore his beautiful fingers toying with your stomach.
You looked away, not even noticing that Mattheo had went silent, the book almost completely left off to the side.
“You okay?” he muttered into you ear.
Everything he did was setting your stomach ablaze right now. It didn’t help that his fingers flexed against your tummy as he drew shapes alongside the flesh.
“Mhm,” you said as you nodded, hoping he just ignored you and picked the book back up. You were seriously trying your hardest to not pay attention to how good his arms looked laying at his sides - or in general, really.
Mattheo bit back a smile as he noticed your eyes briefly flicker to his hand that was resting against you. He definitely did not miss the slight movements in your eyes, paying attention to the way your mouth seemed to dry up with every gulp you took.
“Are we still stressed?” he asked, already knowing that’s not what the problem was.
You just nodded. Honestly, you weren’t too sure what he really said. Your eyes were too focused on the way his fingers felt as if they were moving lower down onto your abdomen, slowly reaching the waistband of your shorts. He merely toyed with the elastic, his fingertips never reaching further than your pelvis.
Vibrations rumbled against your back as he chuckled. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?”
Mattheo moved his hand away from your lower half in order to wrap around your waist tightly, holding you close. His other one picked the book back up, lifting it towards your face.
You had no idea what he was doing, and you had no intention of finding out - your mind was still fuzzy from the immense heat that was pooling between your legs from your boyfriend’s previous actions.
“Keep reading,” came his voice suddenly.
He noticed the curious look in your eyes as he strained his neck to face you. “You’re stressed. Reading helps you relax, no?”
“Yeah…?” you were still confused.
Mattheo loosened his grip on your torso to resume messing around with your waistband.
“Read for me,” he mumbled against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
You watched as the muscles in his forearm contracted while he kept the book at your eye level. Starting from the top of the page you began to read out loud, trying to stop your voice from cracking whenever Mattheo’s fingers trailed lower than expected. Every single movement caused goosebumps to form all over - your arms, legs, stomach. Your body was buzzing with excitement.
Continuing your pace, you kept reading out the words on the page no matter how uneven your breathing became. You knew better than to ignore Mattheo’s commands.
“You’re doing great, keep going,” whispered Mattheo.
Just as you were about to continue, you were interrupted by your own gasp as his hand made it’s way into your shorts. The only problem was that he didn’t move it - not one bit. He rested it on top of you, cupping your heat.
The veins in his hand twitched as he gently shook the book. “You stop, I stop.”
You let out a strangled groan before starting again.
“They attacked hi- him in various ways….” you quoted before taking a deep breath upon feeling the friction against your panties, Mattheo’s palm giving you just the pressure you needed.
“With...- with barefaced questions-“ you briefly stopped reading only to whimper his name.
His hand carefully pulled your underwear to the side, fingers teasing at your entrance. He moved them up to part your lips, gathering your arousal before he suddenly dipped into you, earning a breathy moan from the back of your throat.
Fingers gently, slowly, curling, he began to nip at your neck before he spoke up. “I thought I told you to keep reading?” he said.
“S-sorry.”
You felt him all around you. His gorgeous arm that was looped around your chest, holding your book up; his mouth which left wet open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder and neck, lightly sucking and biting whenever he could. And, oh, his skilled fingers which were now moving in and out of you at a dreadfully slow pace.
Your stomach felt as if it was twisted in knots, but you kept reading nonetheless, to which Mattheo begun praising. “So good for me,” he whispered.
His thumb now entered the mix, begin to rub lazy circles on your clit.
Reveling in how shaky your voice sounded, he urged you to increase up your volume. He wanted to hear you fall apart - and what better way to do that then have you read louder for him?
“Be a good girl and speak up. I can’t hear you,” he had said.
Your head was now thrown back onto his shoulder, the coil in your stomach building up very fast. You could still somewhat make out the words on the page, but your vision had began to blur, and your moans were becoming too frequent for you to be able to continue.
“Please, Mattheo, I can’t,” you whined.
Tears brimmed at the edge of your eyes, your cheeks flushing with the heat of the room. Mattheo nudged his shoulder upwards so that you were supporting your own head once more. Your eyes landed on the book again. “Yes you can,” he encouraged.
His lips landed on your cheek, peppering soft pecks wherever his mouth landed.
It wasn’t much longer before you erupted into a series of tremors, your voice chanting his name as he helped you ride out your high. In all honesty, you were going to have to read that chapter again - you weren’t sure if you retained any information.
Mattheo rested the book on your nightstand, both of his arms now hugging you close to his chest. His chin nestled into your shoulder. “How do you feel now?”
You smilled up at him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. “Much better, baby.”
“Good,” he said, kissing your forehead.
Leave it to Mattheo to de-stress you on your worst days.
- - -
A/N: this was my first time doing smut i’m so sorry
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Text
Little Kreature (The Boys Drabble)
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Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader (only indicator for gender is the phrase 'atta girl') / requests are open
Summary: The mission goes well and Butcher's found a surprise for you.
Fic type: fluff (gore mentions).
The Boys: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"Oi, love," you hear Butcher call from the other end of the hall. "Come take a look at this, eh?"
You roll your eyes but do as you're told, wandering down the hallway, streaking your fingers along the walls and trailing them through the blood that was splattered up and down and all the way across the eggshell-white walls. Well, they were eggshell. Hmm. You think you like red better.
You reach Butcher, giving him the side-eye when he gives your ass a slap and an accompanying "atta girl."
"What, Butcher?"
He nods his head towards the opened door, and what you see when you look inside has your jaw dropping open in shock.
"Don't you say I do 'nuffin for y'ah," he groused, checking down the hallway to make sure no more guards were coming up the stairs.
It's almost startling, seeing the spotless room when you've just waded through the guts of about twelve people splattered across every surface you could lay your eyes on. Yeah, you were the one who gutted them all, but still. What could you say? It was a gift.
But right there, sitting on the edge of the bed, was a puppy. A little speck of a thing, all soft-eared and floppy-skinned. He was precious, and the way Butcher was looking at you- you knew he'd already decided you could keep the thing.
"Oh, aren't you a precious little baby," you cooed, wiping the blood off your hands and onto your jeans before you reached out for the puppy to sniff your hand. His little head flopped to the side and you just about melted right then and there.
"Oh, Billy, look at him," you pouted, turning around and showing your boyfriend-cross-boss-cross-situationship the baby in your arms.
"Yeah, yeah, cute little cunt, ain't 'e?"
When you stood there content to coo at the thing for another however long, Butcher grunted, fingers shifting around the trigger on his handgun. He wanted to leave now that you'd taken out the Vought exec and her guards. Clearly, she was a fan of dogs. It almost made you feel a little guilty. Almost.
"Right love," Butcher said, deciding you'd both dicked around long enough. "Let's get this show on the road, eh? We don't want to be here when they send more supes to figure out what's happened. Grab y'er pup and let's boogie."
"Sir yes, sir," you replied with a flirtatious wink before making your way back through the blood-soaked home and out the door where MM and the others were waiting for you, guards and mission all but forgotten.
Now you only needed to pick a name for your little friend.
"How about Kreature?" You asked the pup as Frenchie opened the van door and ushered you inside, Butcher hot on your heels.
"Whatever you want, love," came Butcher's voice, assuming you'd been speaking to him.
Kreature it was, then.
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julesinsummer · 9 days
Text
Unbelieveable! (Theodore Nott x Reader)
theo nott x fem!reader | drabble | fluff
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... in which theo is distraught by the news you've given him
"you are unbelievable!"
"theo, my love, it's really not-"
"you are an evil, wretched witch!"
y/n sighed heavily and dropped the book she'd been trying to read so desperately. "honey. it's not that big of a deal."
theo shook his head and grimaced at her, crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed down upon her. "it is. it's a big deal to me and that means it's a big deal."
"just because i said i couldn't go to italy with you all summer doesn't mean i'm evil or wretched," y/n drawled, crossing one leg over the other. theo had been pouting for the last ten minutes, all due to the fact she'd informed him that his grand plan to spend all of summer break in italy with her had been immediately shot down by her parents.
theo dropped his body weight on the couch beside her, groaning as he laid his head on her shoulder dramatically. "yes it does," he mumbled, "you hate me."
y/n laughed, running a hand through his hair. "they were never going to say yes to that, babe," she informed him, watching as he seemed to curl up to her side. oh, how clingy he could be. "they said i could stay a week at a time, no more and no less."
"that's like not seeing you at all!" theo shouted out, latching his arms around y/n's waist.
"it's definitely not," she corrected, shifting around until she found a comfortable position for the both of them. "my grandparents are staying the summer with us and would absolutely disown me if they knew i was spending the entire summer with my boyfriend and not my family."
theo grunted in what seemed to be annoyance or disapproval. "they suck, then."
"they do," y/n agreed, twirling his hair between her fingers. "but they're rich and spoil me, so i must submit to their whims."
"i'm rich and i spoil you," he added miserably, "and i'm way hotter than your grandparents."
y/n recoiled a bit, snickering at theo's antics. "don't use my grandparents and hot in the same sentence," she retched internally, "and i'll do my best to come as often as i can. besides, after next year we can just move in together."
theo perked up at that, the prospect of never having a second away from y/n delighting him. "you're never allowed to leave the house. you have to stay with me all the time."
"not happening," y/n deadpanned.
"worth a shot," theo chuckled, tightening his hold on y/n's body. "can we go to bed so i can actually hold you and not get a fucking neck cramp?"
y/n laughed and nodded, moving to get up from her position on the couch, waving her wand at her book to transport it to her own bookshelf. theo followed her as she took steps away from the common room.
"i can't believe you'd still want to sleep in the same room as an evil and wretched witch like me," she joked as she opened the door to her dorm room.
theo pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "as evil and wretched as you are, you're mine and i'll always want to be with you."
y/n smiled up at him, meeting his eyes. "unbelievable."
"mine."
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jawritter · 2 years
Note
It's me again, take however long you need with another ask for your celebration.
Tell me how you and soldier boy first got together (as always it can be as filthy as possible because he is a warning on his own)
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Just Like The First Time
Warning: Captivity. Biologically enhanced reader, Soldier Boy (yes, he’s his own warning), language. Depiction of drug comparison. Smut.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Word Count: 389
Jens3kcelebration   Masterlist        
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When he was first taken by the Russian government to experiment on “America’s Super Soldier '' you were assigned to him, too well, keep him entertained.
You didn’t know who was more entertained, him or you, but he didn’t complain, and neither did you. On the list of shitty things they had made you do in order to become serviceable to the captured Supe, this was one of the more… let’s say… pleasurable, things they had asked you to do, and you, being a prisoner yourself, how could you even disobey a direct order. Whether it came from your superiors, or Soldier Boy himself, and boy, did you like taking orders from him. 
The chemicals they gave him, didn’t only enhance his muscle mass. They enhanced other things too. Like his libido. 
The first day he meet you, he ended up balls deep in you, bent over a table in his quarters while he fucked into you like a while animal. He was so thick— in every aspect. Raw power. He reeked of anger, pent up frustration, and dominance. In less than fifteen minutes, he’d ruined all other men for you, not that any of them could have compared anyway. 
There was no soft side to him. Not at all. He was sinfully addictive, and you were, from the moment you laid eyes on him you were addicted. Worse than the first shot to a heroin addict. In fact, you were pretty sure there was nothing on God’s green earth that could be as addictive as him. Even after they took you away from him, and locked him away because he became too dangerous. You vowed that you’d never stop looking for him. Your Soldier Boy. Your drug. Your damnation. 
It was damnation you’d willingly take. If finding him again, if not but to relieve that first day of withering underneath his massive body, cunt convulsing around his powerful length, nails leaving their mark down his back as he roars above you, spilling his seed deep inside of your velvet heat. You’d take that damnation. You’d take that eternity in whatever hell God had created, because he was all you’d ever want or need again, just for one more day, just one more hit. Just trying to find that high that was as good as the first time. 
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ageofstarkey · 8 months
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soft glow ✰ m. riddle
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summary: sleepy mornings with matthéo
pairing: bf!matthéo x reader
warnings: slightly suggestive at the end, but nothing really other than that!! just tooth rotting fluff n théo who’s soft for u and no one else!! :’))
note: hi!! i’m not sure how i feel about this one but i still think it’s a lil tiny bit cute so i’m posting!! feel free to send in requests!!
masterlist
comments & reblogs are so appreciated! <3
✰ ✰ ✰
when you wake up, matthéo’s bedroom is warm with the soft glow of morning. golden rays of sunlight peek stubbornly through his drapes, and soft white noise filters steadily in through the window.
as you slowly come to, you begin to register the familiar sensation of matthéo’s touch. his calloused fingers glide almost curiously across your face; carefully tracing each curve and dip, as if to memorize your every detail.
with a soft hum, you finally blink open your eyes - squinting into the sunlight. you roll towards matthéo with a yawn, offering him a sleepy smile. “hi”
matthéo grins, smoothing a mess of tangled hair away from your face. “hi, darling.” his voice is raspy and painfully fond - and your heart aches pleasantly behind your ribcage. his hand slides casually to the back of your neck, and you quietly hope that your cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “how’d you sleep?”
“me? oh - i slept terribly” you’re aiming for deadpan in a desperate attempt to play it cool, but you wear a giddy little grin that almost certainly gives you away. “worst sleep of my life.”
“oh yeah?”
you nod with all the conviction you can muster - which admittedly isn’t much. “mhmm” with a little stretch, you’re leaning upwards to kiss his cheek. “you snore louder than my granddad.”
matthéo scoffs in mock offence, fingers poking teasingly at your side. “‘s that so?”
you nod once more, trying desperately to stifle a giggle. matthéo’s teasing is relentless, and you squirm clumsily away from his prodding fingers. in the end - it doesn’t take long for you to give in. “okay! okay - fine!” you laugh breathlessly. “you don’t snore and i had the best sleep of my life. is that what you wanted to hear?”
“yes actually. because you on the other hand - you do snore and it’s really quite loud - sort of like-”
“matthéo!” he’s being mean on purpose and you pretend to hate it. “i do not snore!”
“okay but how do you know you don’t snore, hm? i mean - if you’re asleep when it happens…” he tugs you towards his bare chest, one arm wrapped firmly around your back. “you wouldn’t really know, would you?” he punctuates his words with a soft kiss to your forehead, and you all but melt into his gentle embrace.
“i hate you.” with your face smushed against matthéo’s chest, your words come out awkward and muffled. “like - i really, really can’t stand you sometimes.”
he tugs you impossibly closer with a pleased laugh. “don’t lie, sweetheart”
“i’m not lying!”
he tilts your head upwards before slowly kissing your lips. you feel warm all over, and you chase him with a quiet whine when he pulls away. “if you really hate me, why were you screaming m-”
“you’re so awful!”
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Text
My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?
Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.
Steve is there to fix that.
One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.
He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.
He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.
Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?
And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").
And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"
"Eddie."
Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"
They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.
They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:
"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"
"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."
"What about a funeral?"
"It puts fun in a funeral."
"Touché."
They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."
And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.
They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.
And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."
Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."
...
Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.
Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:
STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?
EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!
STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.
EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!
And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.
But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.
"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."
Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.
Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"
Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.
The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.
Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.
No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").
Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.
The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.
Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.
But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.
The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...
Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...
"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.
There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.
And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"
The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.
"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"
Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.
"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."
Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"
Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"
"You already paid me, Eddie."
"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."
"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."
"I'm listening."
Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"
And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.
"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."
It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.
Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.
They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."
And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?
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meow-meowo · 2 months
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Yandere Online Friend Headcannons
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Y! Online Friend who's always updated on your posts! Isn't he so sweet to like your pictures even when it's from years ago? ^^
Y! Online Friend who's always available for late-night chats with you! Sure, they have work and assignments the next day but his beloved is more important than that! Don't mind the occasional groan he lets out whenever you guys call each other<3
Y! Online Friend who's that one friend that will flirt with you every chance he gets. He would say the most down bad, diabolical, horny, unacceptable, horrendous, and disturbing flirtatious comments towards you and quickly brushes them off as jokes to avoid making things awkward^^
Y! Online Friend who has an impressive memory when it comes to remembering details about your life! He'd even bring up some shows you've been interested in just so you could rant them about this and that<3 He loves to jerk off to your voice
Y! Online Friend who's always there to offer his support and encouragement whenever you're feeling down or stressed! <3 he would stay up late to chat with you and send some funny cat memes or videos to cheer you up!
Y! Online Friend who gets jealous when you talk to other people in groupchats. W̶h̶y̶ d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ y̶o̶u̶ p̶a̶y̶ a̶t̶t̶e̶n̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ t̶o̶ h̶i̶m̶ i̶n̶s̶t̶e̶a̶d̶ o̶f̶ t̶h̶o̶s̶e̶ l̶e̶e̶c̶h̶e̶s̶?̶
Y! Online Friend who wishes he could spend time with you in person! Don't get him wrong- he enjoys your online interactions but he wants to see your beautiful face and hear your angelic voice in person too!
Y! Online Friend who writes unsent messages or love letters to you! <3 He pours out his feelings and desires onto every word and yet it remains hidden and forgotten:(
Y! Online Friend who overanalyze every messages you send him<3 He searches for hidden meanings and signs that you might feel the same way about him! He'd dissect your words, emojis and kamojis, hoping to find evidence that his feelings have a chance of being reciprocated<3 He's the type to watch those type of videos on tiktok that goes "5 signs your crush likes you back"
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"And so obviously I was mad at her because of- Are you even listening Rein?"
Your eyebrows raised at him. You were in a call with your online friend Rein and telling him about this girl you hate, however your dearest friend had been awfully quiet... Aside from the occasional groans though! But you just took it as him agreeing
Suddenly, you heard some shuffling and finally his voice can be heard
"Wh- what?? Oh yeah..!! I was just uh- Doing something..." He let out a nervous cough before continuing "Please do continue" His voice was hoarse and you could hear his fast paced breath
You were a bit suspicious but still continued to the story, oblivious to the fact that the other was slowly slipping his hand back into his boxer<3
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To him your voice was angelic. A symphony where he can find comfort, warmth and satisfaction.
In fact he hated talking to others until you came. Oh how he loved how you vent to him about your problems<3 he loves your voice so much that it got him to the situation he's currently in right now.
Small groans and whimpers can be heard from the room. His palm teasing the evident bulge from his boxers as you continued your rant.
His mind was going wild as of the moment—he was humiliated at himself for getting off from your voice that wasn't even hinting anything particularly sexual.
Still, He can't help but entertain his fantasy about you finding out how perverted he actually is and degrading him for it—fuck, he can't take it anymore.
He's getting really impatient...be careful<3 ^^
It's been so long since I posted anything but uhh... :3
I tried to make a full blown scene of him getting at it but I couldn't do it🤡
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