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leighsartworks216 · 7 months

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You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

Word Count: 1,601

Masterlist

AO3

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Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.

Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.

Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.

That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.

Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.

“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”

He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”

“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?

“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”

“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”

You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”

“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”

“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”

He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”

If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”

He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”

Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.

Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.

With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.

“All done, dear?”

You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”

Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.

You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”

“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”

You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”

The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…

“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.

“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”

He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”

You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”

You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

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queenimmadolla · 10 days

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Could you do a blurb where reader rolls a joint for Eddie for the first time with all her cute papers and stuff and he loves it?

Happy Stoner Christmas!

happy 4/20! 😶‍🌫️💚

“Well, if it isn’t for my favorite customer.”

You hear him before you see him, and sit up straighter as you look up, torso twisting around to face Eddie.

He’s walking through the tree line that acts as the ‘fence’ to your backyard. Not exactly born into wealth, your home is on the edge of Hawkins and lacks the white picket fence and concrete driveway, with nature and gravel filling in. Just down the street is Jonathan Byers’ home.

Confidence radiates off of Eddie as he approaches the picnic bench you were waiting on, his curls sway a little. He’s rocking a band shirt today—long sleeves rolled up his forearms—and some dark jeans. You try not to squirm under his stare, the wild grin on his face stirring something in your tummy.

You knew you’d end up crushing on him after the first time you went to him for weed instead of Rick. He was cute.

Eddie was so freaking cute and charming and funny. You probably would have been fine if he had just been cute and charming, but the humorous trait was your weakness. You loved funny guys.

Sure enough, by the fourth time he dealt to you—his tongue was in your mouth. And the fifth time, you’d gone to third base. Now, whatever happened when he came around just happened. You accepted it, even if it makes you a little nervous because you know very well you’re interested in more than just the benefits that come with your encounters.

You want him. Like, boyfriend him. It’s kind of tragic, actually, because you don’t even know if you’re the only one of his clientele he treats this way. Eddie can be fucking the rest of them for all you know and it drives you insane because you want to ask—you’re just too chicken shit.

“You say that as if this wasn’t prearranged.” You laugh out and Eddie snorts, dumping his black lunch pail on the leaf riddled bench top next to your scooby-doo lunch box with a metal clang.

“I’m trying to be cute and you’re ruining it.” When you laugh again, Eddie’s eyes squint in triumph, “And I’ll have you know I have been waiting—no, yearning for you to call upon me. Moved my bed over to the phone and everything. Thought you forgot allllllll about me.”

“Me forget about you? Impossible.” You declare in a joking manner, though you truly mean the sentiment. Your mental health might be better if you could forget him. Then you wouldn’t be able to make yourself sick over the idea of him kissing other people.

“You better mean that.” He jabs an accusatory finger, silver ring glinting, in your direction as he settles in across from you, “The usual, my sweet?”

UGH! SEE?! Too damn cute.

“Please?” You’re too busy opening up your own lunch box full of supplies to notice the heated look he fixes you with right then.

Eddie clears his throat, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip as he pops the lid of his lunch pail open, pulling out a little baggie with your favorite strain of buds. He eyes it with a glint in his eye before it’s held out to you, dangling from his fingertips.

You look up once you realize it’s being offered, and pinch the top of the baggie as your other hand holds out the folded bills. Eddie flicks them out of your loose grip, and it goes flying to land in your lap while you jump in surprise.

“My bad,” he snickers, his pretty teeth gleaming, “it’s on the house.”

You pick up exactly where he wants you to, “In that case, please accept my offer to smoke you out with my newly acquired goods.”

That feeling in your belly—butterflies—intensifies at the slow and large smile that spreads on his face, forcing his little dimple to make an appearance.

It always goes like this now.

Eddie comes over (or you go to him), weed is exchanged and when you try to pay him for it, he refuses. Then, you invite him to smoke weed with you (and he’ll always pull from the extra inventory he carries around—never from what he’s just given you), the two of you get high and you finally feel brave enough to make a move because you know he always waits for you to do it. Gives you the power to start things, your own comfort, though he takes full control once you get going. He’s always so keen on taking care of you. You’d once thought that maybe he didn’t want you as much as you wanted him, since it was always you initiating things, but the way he’d beg for you, ramble about how much he wanted you, how desperate he was for you and his ‘finally, I thought I was gonna die’s on just your kisses alone, soothed that insecurity.

“I’d be delighted to! But─”

“Nope.” You interrupt, having seen his hand reaching into his pail. “My weed—not yours.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and when you don’t back down, both of his hands are lifted in surrender before one is extended to you out on the bench, palm up. Eddie’s waiting for you to give him your grinder and the weed so he can start rolling but you low five his palm instead and he chuckles, skin tingling from the contact.

“That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“I know, but I’m also rolling today, too.”

Eddie scoffs and smirks, fixing you with that heated stare again and you quickly divert your gaze, pulling out your pretty purple grinder and getting to work. You are not gonna let him make you nervous and fumble around, “Baby…”

Oh, god. The way he coos it out, nice and low—you’re instantly taken back to other times you’d heard him say it like that. You’d been bent into all kinds of positions as it was rasped into your ear, the sweat from both of your bodies plastering Eddie to you. Your hand twists the top of the grinder on autopilot as you stare at nothing, gaze vacant.

Eddie knows exactly where your mind has taken you and his smirk widens.

“You can’t roll for shit.”

That snaps you out of your stupor, mouth dropping.

“I can, too! You’ve never seen me put in the work.”

“I have, that’s why I roll.”

And you cringe as you recall the first time you’d try to roll a joint. It had been the second time Eddie sold to you, having only used pre-rolled cones prior. Those only meant you had to pack the wrap in with weed, kind of like a funnel and then twist the end closed before partaking.

Rolling from start to finish was a whole other endeavor and you’d failed so badly, Eddie had rolled around on the floor laughing. You didn’t take any offense, too busy jumping up and down inside at having made the cute, charming funny guy you liked laugh.

“I’ve been practicing,” You pout, placing the grinder down after you’re sure the nug of the bud you’d placed in it was now almost powder-like.

“You tryna impress me, hm?” He hums out, and you refuse to look up, knowing those pretty brown eyes of his are gonna be lidded and it’ll do you in early. You’ll have to jump him right there, “Been practicing to show me what you can do?”

You ignore him, focusing instead on the rolling papers you had.

Eddie places his chin in his hand, watching you intently as you frown in concentration before it breaks when you select a rolling paper, cherries decorating the white sheets. You pull your small rolling tray out and some part of Eddie throbs. You hadn’t had that before.

You quickly scrunch a filter together, folding the rolling paper and placing the filter at the edge of the fold before you unscrew the grinder and begin pinching the green within to sprinkle on the paper. Once it was full, and Eddie notices with wide eyes that you’ve packed it with a significant amount, you use dexterous fingers to carefully roll it together, tongue poking out as you take diligent care to ensure no fall out. Once the green flower is properly contained, you lick the free edge and fold it over the rest of the joint before you pinch and twist the end.

After a few moments of intense scrutiny, you hold it out victoriously, “Taduh!!! For you.”

Eddie takes the joint, turning it this way and that as he marvels. You really had been practicing, it was beautiful. He feels an intense amount of pride bloom in his chest and something else. Always for you, only ever for you.

“Did I do good?” You ask, voice shy as you bite your lip and this time you don’t look away when that heavy stare focuses on you. You wanna faint, but you don’t. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you know where tonight is gonna lead.

“Baby,” There’s that rasp again that makes you want to drop dead and smash your mouth to his at the same time, “I’m gonna need you to come over here now. Don’t think I can wait.”

#I got this request before i made the prompt post shhhhh #Queenimmadolla’s smokesesh #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson fanfic

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melrodrigo · 16 days

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friends? - cairo sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: A new class leads to some heated feelings

Warnings: Finally wrote an enemies to lovers, they’re academic rivals ur honor, my writing, cairo being a meanie, quite an excessive use of italics

Word Count: 1k+

A/n: wanted to practice some, tell me what u think? do you want a part two?

“Cairo Sweet.” You read aloud, scrolling down your class list for the next year. Winnie —your best friend since childhood—laughs quietly at the sound.

“Funny name.” She mumbles when you quirk an eyebrow at her.

There was no reason to think ‘Sweet’ was a weird surname; however, Winnie, at the moment, was high out of her mind, so you let it go.

“Jacob Weinstein, Sophie Bell, Anthony Smith—god I don’t know any of these people!” You whisper, the slightest bit of anxiety creeping in.

Your first day is tomorrow, and you’ve sworn to yourself not to check who is in your specific class, wanting to try to spontaneously make new friends.

The keyword was try, because god you were bad at small talk.

Even in her mellowed state, Winnie could tell the nerves were settling in. She reaches out and draws you towards her, sitting so you’re facing each other, only a finger away from completely pressing into one another.

She swirls the lollipop in her mouth around, angling your head to look her in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be fine. Don’t sweat it, please? It makes me sad to see your pretty face in distress.” She spoke evenly, making you feel like you had steady ground to walk on, helping you come back to earth. You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t know you were holding.

“You’ve got to stop flirting with anyone and anything that moves.” You tell her, lightheartedly. She had helped taken the edge off, for now.

Bless her heart, Winnie’s reassurance lasted about until she left for her own home, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the big lonely house you had to call home.

It takes a book, or maybe two, for your eyelids to flutter shut, comforted by the smell of old paper and the feeling of coarse parchment.

Walking to school is no different. You listen half-heartedly to whatever Winnie decides to babble about this specific morning, your mind elsewhere.

As you near the doors of your next class, Winnie gives you a quick wink.

“Good luck soldier.” She says, smiling an almost teasing smile.

The minute you push open the doors you’re taken by surprise. It was fairly early, and though you expected no one would be there yet, there was a girl sitting smack dab in the middle of the class. Her head rested on her hands, staring blankly at the chalkboard in front of her.

You walk up silently to the desk behind her, far enough so you weren’t in the first few rows, but close enough that you wouldn’t be sitting with all the slackers in the back.

You slip out a book, kick your feet up to rest on the wooden table, and relaxed slightly. She seemed to pay no mind to you, and didn’t seem to want to pay any mind to you.

After a few pages in, you realize you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again, not quite comprehending the letters that now looked like a random jumble.

There was a sinking feeling starting in your stomach, as if something were twisting and screaming for your attention.

Table or chair, wind or sun—you couldn’t quite figure out what it was that was bothering you.

Your eyes wandered from the page to your surroundings, trying to pinpoint what it was.

You must’ve been making quite some noise, because the girl in front of you turns around, an obvious distaste on her face. The moment you lock eyes you feel it.

Ah, I know what it is now.

It seems almost silly to say, but you could swear, she was the root of your problems.

There was an almost inimical aura about her, the way she acts—the flick of her eyes, the slight clench in her jaw, her rigid robotic posture—was enough for you to cower.

Of course, you had never even talked to the girl, but you could tell all at once, you weren’t going to be good friends.

“Could you stop moving so much? It’s distracting me.” She tells you, in a manner too rude to be a real request.

Her eyes narrow when you don’t answer. You had elected instead to stare at her freckles, ones that littered her face. Not counting your current feelings for her, you couldn’t deny it, she was beautiful.

However, the way she was acting now was more than enough for you to be sure she was not someone friend-worthy, and you ignored her remark.

In a quiet retaliation, you wait till she titled her head back that you scratch the rug beneath you with the heels of your feet.

It creates a faint screeching sound. When the mysterious girl turns back once again, this time with fury in her eyes, you avert your eyes and look around the room, whistling.

You could tell you were pushing her buttons, but oh boy if it wasn’t just the most fun. If it weren’t for the sound of the door opening you’re positive she would’ve gotten up and confronted you.

In walked a short, scruffy, middle-aged white man whom you concluded must have been the teacher.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be in yet. Students aren’t usually thrilled to learn my class.” He said, sounding pleased with himself to have two new focused students.

“I’m quite excited to see how it’s going to go, I’ve never learned with a favorite author of mine.” The girl spoke, this time with no venom in her voice.

The professor let out a strangled sort of squeak, obviously caught off guard.

Great. She’s also a suck-up.

“Well, i’ll be damned. I’ve never met someone that’s read my book— other than my wife. Although I’m not sure if she even read the whole thing.” He said, failing to hide the excitement and disbelief he was surely feeling.

“I thought it was amazing commentary on modern marriages and love through difficult times.” She said, the light from outside lighting her hair up a lighter shade of brown.

Blah, blah, blah. Someone save me.

As if hearing your prayers, another student entered the room, effectively cutting off that godforsaken conversation. More pupils start filling up the class, and even though you can tell the professor wants to keep talking to the brunette, he steps up to the small platform.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr. Miller, and I’ll be teaching you english literature.” He announces, voice full. You can tell he’d practiced this beforehand.

Your plan to make friends, to both your joy and dismay, get crushed almost immediately. There are no group activities or opportunities to even speak to the other people in the class, all attention directed to the front while Mr. Miller scrabbles on the chalkboard.

The brunette’s name, you learn, is Cairo. She manages to be the first person to raise her hand, to challenge Mr.Miller, to question almost every single thing on the board.

And even though that nagging feeling you felt when you first saw her is gone, you let yourself dissociate and simply stare at the girl. If the class was going to be boring, it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye candy, would it?

“Now, who can tell me exactly why Orwell chose to use these sets of words? What do they give to the overall tone of the book, umm-y/n?” Mr.Miller called, looking from his list of students.

You stir in your chair uncomfortably; you have not been listening to him. The air had turned very cold; your heart picking up its pace.

“I don’t know.” You mumble after a while of every face turned your way, impatience in their gaze. You shrink into your seat.

You hear a little scoff from ahead of you, coming from none other than Cairo Sweet.

You bite back an insult, and try to ignore the disappointed murmur that comes out of Mr.Miller.

Before you know it the hour is gone, and the sound of books stacking against one another breaks you out your daze.

Winnie’s waiting for you outside the door, quite creepily, you tell her as you walk together to your next class; a subject that you both have.

“So, how was it?” She nudges you lightly, smiling expectedly.

You flash her a tight lipped smile, then let it drop when you know she’d be able to see right through you.

You grip her arm and lean in closer, checking around you.

“There was this one girl, she was horrible!” You whisper, a new spark of energy flowing through you at the prospect of telling Winnie about it.

“She was the BIGGEST teachers pet, and she said something so rude to me before class, so like we were sitting and…” You continue to recount the story, trying your hardest to recreate Cairo’s glare.

When you get done, you turn to Winnie, waiting for her to join in on your gossiping.

“So am I going to witness an enemies to lovers type of thing right in front of me?” She sighs, exasperated.

You’re so shocked you don’t follow her into the class, stood rooted to the spot at the door.

“Wait, what?”

#cairo sweet #cairo sweet x reader #millers girl #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #enemies to lovers #melrodrigo

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bangtanintotheroom · 9 months

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Undershirt, Underskirt (M)

• Pairing: Bang Chan x (F)Reader

• Genre: Idol!AU, Smut, Fluff, Established Relationship

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 1.3k

• Summary: Your boyfriend’s Lollapalooza attire leaves you wanting for him more than usual.

• Warnings/themes: Chan’s Lollapalooza fit 🫠, pining, ogling, Y/N being horny on main, making out, riding, semi-clothed sex, unprotected sex (she’s on BC), praise

• Notes: *sighs* Look. I’m not gonna act like there was some deep reason behind writing this. I saw Chan in a tank and went absolutely feral. Like, DISGUSTINGLY FERAL. So I had to get it out of my system somehow 🥲 Funny enough, something like this happened last year with Hobi at Lollapalooza…makes me curious about next year lmao

• Notes (2): Thanks to my demonic tender @minttangerines for the beta and encouraging me to go ahead and get my thoughts out on paper! 💕

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp @spookyminyunki

Time was never something that you paid much attention to. You went with the flow with no problem. But right now?

Every second that passed by without your boyfriend walking through that room door was time that was wasted not sitting on his dick.

Your grip on the skirt of your dress tightened when you watched the minutes on the alarm clock change yet again. A low grumble escaped your pursed lips as you stewed in this lonely hotel room.

This was unlike you.

You weren’t some 24/7/365 horny monster who would wither away without a helping of Chan. But you had been witness to an unspeakable sight on the Lollapalooza stage.

The sight of Chan removing his jacket to reveal a white tank underneath paired with a multitude of gold chains.

The light stick you had been holding almost fell with how off-guard you were taken. All the times you had seen him in various states of undress and this was what broke you?

Maybe it was the simplicity of the fit that got to you.

Maybe it was the display of his muscled arms and lightly-tanned skin that affected you.

Maybe it was the fact that you kept seeing his top ride up, showing off the flatness of his lower stomach that sat above those damn leather shorts.

Leather shorts that concealed what you were dying to have in your mouth, hands or pussy right now.

Your thighs rubbed together at the strong wave of pleasure that washed over from the thought.

Okay, maybe it was all on you just being a horny mess.

The clicking of the doorknob had you darting up into a full sitting position now, watching it turn with widened eyes. The door opened to reveal the object of your salacious desires, his tired face lighting up at the sight of you.

“Hey baby! Sorry I’m so—”

Your body went on autopilot and bounded down the bed and over to Chan, pouncing on him with your arms wrapped tight around his neck. A sound of exertion left as the weight of you transferred onto him, the force pushing his back into the door. Before he could ask what had gotten into you, you planted your lips on his, the taste of him and his vanilla lip balm only exacerbating your horniness.

It took a few seconds, but he was quick to return your kiss, dropping the bag he held in favor of resting his palms on your ass. But the gentleness of his hold swept away as soon as your tongue came out to part his mouth, long fingers digging into the clothed flesh with intensity.

Damn.

You thought having him in the flesh would ease your pain, but his hard body against your softer one and the scent of his cologne and sweat invading your nostrils only made it worse. There was only one way to fix it.

Pulling away when you were losing breath, you panted, “Please fuck me.”

Chan’s lidded dark eyes opened wide at your plea, still trying to wrap his head around what the fuck was going on.

“Y-Y/N? You good?”

“No, I’m not good. I’ve been wet as an ocean since you were on stage and I need you to help me out.”

Your whining made a low groan leave him, head tipping back against the wood.

“For real?”

Rather than speak, you took one of his hands and slipped it under the hem of your dress. Just the light touch of his fingers brushing against your clothed center had you biting back a whimper, but it was nothing compared to the sharp swear Chan let out.

“The fuck, baby, you’re soaked—”

He ripped that concealed sound out of you by giving your near-throbbing clit a light pinch, making your knees wobble for a moment.

“Can you help me? U-Unless you’re tired…”

Chan straightened the both of you up with his free hand, the look in his eyes speaking volumes.

“Sleep is overrated. Come on.”

Your boyfriend may have denounced slumber earlier, but halfway through the fun, his movements grew a bit slower. Not wanting to exert him any further, you guided him to recline against the headboard and let you take over. The grateful smile he gave was more than enough to make your night.

Well, that and being able to finally sit on his dick like you so desperately wanted.

“Is this really all because of my outfit?”

A huff left you at his inquiry, one hand sliding down from his damp shoulder to give the tank top he still adorned a light tug.

“Yes, babe. Why do you sound so shocked?”

Chan chuckled, biting back a groan as you gave a clench. “Nah, I just don’t get to see you like this often. I like it.”

Now you giggled, leaning forward to press your nose against his.

“Do you?”

A sudden thrust from him interrupted your riding.

“Yeah.”

The moan you let out ended up bringing another stroke from him, forcing your hand to go back to holding him for support. His own roamed over your body, rubbing and gripping in multiple areas that made your blood run hot.

“This plus what you’ve got on? You’re lucky I didn’t run off the stage.”

You laughed at his scenario, knowing damn well he wouldn’t risk such a maneuver.

While you had requested Chan to keep his upper torso clothed (no point in keeping on the ripped shorts), he came in with one of his own, asking if he could just push your dress out of the way. You had no qualms against that, allowing him to tug the hem to gather around your waist while he slid your panties down and off your legs. So what if you were sweating a little more than usual because of the fabric?

That’s what showers were for.

One was definitely going to be necessary after the day the two of you had and the current act that was making everything between your moving bodies sticky and slippery.

After some time, every action on both of your ends led to your riding getting faster and off-beat and his occasional thrusts to become more frequent. It didn’t help when Chan buried his face into your neck, thick voice rumbling against your wet skin, “Gonna make me come if you keep this up, babygirl—”

Surely he could feel the tremble that rocked your entire body.

“Good.”

You gave him little time to prepare after your reply, doing a certain move with your hips that always pushed him to the edge quickly. This time was no exception, Chan’s noises of bliss increasing in pitch until a guttural groan silenced them, feeling him grab your hips to bury himself as he twitched and filled you up with his come. You were able to go against his grip a bit to roll your hips enough to give your clit some stimulation, allowing you to achieve your own orgasm as well.

You could feel Chan laying nips and kisses all over your neck as you shook, followed close with endless praise that made your pussy give clenches that forced his speech to pause. A sense of pride washed over you at how it pulled a few more spurts from him, adding to the heat that coated your walls.

As soon as you slumped onto him, he shifted your bodies so he was laid flat with you directly on top, toned arms holding you tight.

“All better now?”

A hum of content came from you as you snuggled into his chest, your overheated cheek enjoying the cool metal of his chains.

“Much better.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2023. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

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upsidedownwithsteve · 9 months

Text

Simmer #4

CH4. 0800-Awkward | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Eddie’s van was cleaner than you expected and it smelled like mint gum and coffee. There were sheets of paper on the passenger seat he cleared for you with quick hands, boyish scrawls of ink noting down recipes and ingredients, a page of music in between.

Music blared from the radio when Eddie turned on the engine and he scowled at the noise, bashing the button to turn it off so you were both squished between awkward silence instead. You put your hands on your lap, sitting up too straight, throat tight.

The quiet enveloped you both.

“Where am I takin’ you?” Eddie asked gruffly once he turned out of the parking lot. The rain was still bouncing off the roads, the sky dark and angry, navy coloured clouds blocking out all the light. “You live near Robin, right?”

You nodded, pulling at your knuckles until you gave in and picked at a nail, nervousness clawing at you like a persistent puppy. The boy beside you made your stomach tumble, and you weren’t quite sure why yet. “Yeah, just off fourth and Maple,” you told him. “But you can drop me off at the pharmacy, it’s only, like, a ten minute walk from there.”

Eddie scoffed at your suggestion, like he’d do no such thing, but he didn’t say anything else. So you spoke instead, your heart in your dry mouth, watching the boy’s profile, wondering how someone so pretty could be so damn mad all the time. Was it just you?

“So, uh, is Wayne your dad?”

Eddie didn’t take his eyes off the road, he just stepped on the accelerator a little too hard when the lights changed from amber to green. When the engine stopped yelling, he answered. “He’s my uncle.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what else to say. Something told you that asking anything about Eddie’s father would result in a very quiet, very tense ride back to your apartment. “He’s real sweet— your uncle. He’s been super nice to me.”

“Wayne’s nice to everyone,” Eddie replied shortly and it hurt like a kick to the stomach.

The breath left you and you deflated, just a little. The skin around your thumb was becoming raw from your picking. You couldn’t help it, even if you muttered it as you looked out the window. “Clearly it’s not a family trait.”

“What?” Eddie’s voice was all surprise, even the van juddered as he pressed on the brakes a little too hard. You glanced over at him, chin ducked down, fingers torturing the ones on your other hand. Eddie was all raised brows and parted lips, an almost curl of amusement on them. “What did you say?”

It was a dare, a challenge. A ‘go on, say that again. Are you brave enough?’

You glared at him, just like he loved to do to you so often. “I said, clearly, it’s not a family trait.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie laughed, a rough bark that told you he didn’t actually find you funny at all.

You were a built up dam, spilling over the top with a new job, new friends, a new apartment in a new town. It was scary. It had been hard.

You burst.

“You’re so mean to me,” you told him hotly, “all the time! And then you apologise, only for it to last until the end of your shift. I know I’m not like, the best waitress— I mean, I’m hardly Nancy, but I’m trying! I— I haven’t done anything to you.” You sniffed, you wobbled. Tears threatened you both and your voice came out a little higher now. “Have I? If I have, I didn’t mean to.”

You dragged a hand over your face and when you looked back to the boy, Eddie looked horrified. He was pink in the face, eyes darting from you to the road and back again, his finger curling around the steering wheel with a white knuckle grip. He didn’t say anything.

“This is so fucking stupid,” you muttered to your lap and when Eddie slowed to the next stop sign, you flung a hand onto the door handle. “Just drop me here.”

The sound of the rain slapping the pavement only grew louder when you managed to open the door a crack and it seemed to spur Eddie into action. He leaned over you and grabbed at your hand, using it to pull the door shut again. It snapped back into place and Eddie was scowling when you swore at him in return. “Fucking Christ, woman,” he huffed. “I’m takin’ you home, alright? You’ll drown out there.”

“It’s a bit of rain, Eddie,” you snapped. “I lived in Chicago, I’ll survive some water.” Your ferocity was short lived, because you gave in with a huff, eyes watering once more as you pressed yourself against the seat and crossed your arms in defeat.

There was a voice in your head, someone from an old job, an old classmate in middle school, your mom. It didn’t matter who, they were all cruel. Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby.

“Can you just - fuck - can you just let me talk?”

You watched as Eddie licked his lips, maybe out of nerves and he gripped the steering wheel harder still. You thought he’d maybe yell at you, maybe he’d tell you exactly why he was so hot and cold with you, maybe he’d explain in detail why you’d managed to piss him off.

Instead, he asked, “why’d you leave Chicago?”

You stared at him. Was he joking? Was he playing some kind of weird joke? But Eddie waited, his face a pretty picture of sincerity and he glanced at you from the road as often as safety would let him.

“Uh, I didn’t like it,” you scrunched your face at the memory, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Too big, too loud. I don’t really—” you searched for the right word, one that wouldn’t make you sound weak and small. “I don’t enjoy big cities. They’re too much.”

Eddie nodded and suddenly, suddenly, you were having a conversation with him. “I get that. My mom moved to Philadelphia, I don’t see her much, but I used to visit when I was a kid. Hated that no matter what time of night it was, it was never quiet - or dark - fuckin’ lights everywhere.”

There was a silence before you pressed your lips together and hummed. “Yeah,” you agreed. “You could never see the stars in Chicago. I missed that.”

The rain was letting up now, nothing more than a horrible drizzle that you knew would still soak you to the bone, but it was quieter. Softer. The sky turned lilac, a hazy kind of purple blue as the sun tried to break through.

“Where did you grow up?” Eddie peered through his curls at you, his fingers unfurling from the death grip he had on the wheel. He turned down Main Street, one hand in his lap, his head leaning back against the chair. “I know it wasn’t here - would’ve remembered you.”

“Fortville,” you told him, wondering if you just kept talking, your heart would stop racing at what he’d just said to you. “With my parents. It was a tiny place, not much there, probably even smaller than Hawkins and we had chickens and a dog my mom rescued just before I was born. I liked it though, it was a nice place to grow up.”

“Why’d you leave?”

You shrugged, turned to look out the window at the spots of rain on the glass, the kaleidoscope of colours they made now the sun shone through them. “Dad left, found another family. Mom turned mean.” You didn’t elaborate more than that and Eddie noticed how your voice turned softer, even quieter.

“Fair enough,” Eddie answered and you couldn’t help but notice that when he wasn’t frowning, when the lines between his brows were gone, his eyes were the colour of dark chocolate, big and earnest looking. “I can, uh, relate. Kinda.”

A comfortable silence passed after that, one that came with the break of the clouds, dark shadows giving way to a late evening sunset, turning the wet sidewalks golden. You could feel Eddie stealing glances at you, quick flickers of his eyes that went from your face to where your fingers were picking at your nails on your lap.

“You haven’t— you haven’t done anything to me,” Eddie murmured. You looked up at the sound of his voice, nails forgotten about and you saw that flush on his cheeks rise over his nose, turning it pink. He licked his lips and you tracked the movement, feeling the nerves roll off of him and fill the space between you. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t, I didn’t mean to be… mean.”

Eddie parked the van and you blinked, not even realising that he’d stopped on your street. Your apartment building was just a little down the road, waiting.

“You lied to me when I came in that day,” you squinted at the boy, both of you cringing at the memory of Eddie pretending that he wasn’t who he was. That he wasn’t who you were looking for. “Why? Why did you do that?”

Eddie turned a deeper shade of pink, cheeks burning and he fumbled over his words before he swallowed harshly and turned towards you in his seat. He tugged at his curls, unsure what to do with his hands now he didn’t have the wheel to grip. “I’m, shit, I’m sorry ‘bout that. That was— that was just. Stupid.”

You nodded, looking at him with sad eyes that seemed to make his brow knit together in despair.

“I don’t, uh, I don’t do well with like, making friends?” Eddie offered an explanation that he didn’t seem to be able to admit easily. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to smile at you, tried to ease the feeling of guilt that was swarming him. “I get stuck in my ways, y’know? I just go to work, go home, go back to work— new things—” Eddie glanced over at you with those big eyes. “—new people, make me kinda, nervous. I guess.”

You let your gaze settle on his, watching as he took in a breath and blinked. He looked a little dizzy, his confession making the air a little lighter. But something else lingered. It felt like glitter, a sparkling, pretty thing that swirled in the front space of the van. It was hopeful.

“I get nervous too. Shy,” you admitted. You felt nervous now, tummy tumbling, a whole aviary loose inside. “About a lot of things.” About you, is what you didn’t say. “But I’m not a dick about it.”

Eddie snorted and the sound made your lip quirk up, an almost smile. Eddie nodded, like he was agreeing with your passive insult, his lips twisting as he looked you over once more. His gaze was warmer than you’d seen it before, no furrow between his brow to make you wonder if he was pissed at you. Now he just looked… interested.

“You’re right,” he announced. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ve been a dick. I’m sorry.”

“You said sorry earlier,” you reminded him. “With breakfast. But then you were a dick all over again. This hot and cold is making my head hurt.” You fiddled with the hem of your uniform dress, lifting powder blue away from your knee to pick at a loose thread.

“I did, didn’t I?” The boy let his head fall back onto the window, a dull thud, curls sticking to the glass that was all fogged up from you both sitting talking. The setting sun made him golden, peach coloured cheeks and honey eyes, all bronze shadows and inky lines over his arms, peeking out from his T-shirt. “Was it good? Your breakfast?”

You rolled your eyes and Eddie grinned, truly, he beamed at you. It was a flirtatious thing, a pretty thing - it made your heart pick up and your breath catch in your throat because it was so fucking unexpected.

“Yes, it was good,” you murmured, back to shy, back to dipping your chin and not really being able to look him in the eye. “But that’s not the point.”

“You’re right,” he said again. The boy seemed so much more agreeable out of his chef whites, without the heat and the noise and the constant sizzle of the kitchen. “I really am sorry - I hate, fuck, I hate that I didn’t make you feel welcome. That was shitty of me.”

You sniffed, pulled the thread loose and watched baby blue spring and curl around your finger. “It was.”

Eddie looked hopeful when you finally found the courage to meet his gaze again. He gave you a slow shrug, a half smile that still didn’t look fully sure. But he tried anyway.. “Can we start again?” He moved, shifting closer to you, close enough that the stick shift was pressing against the slight pudge of his tummy and you could smell his cologne, could see the freckles on the bridge of his nose. He held out his hand for you, silver rings and all. “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

He waited with wide eyes for you to reach out too, to slip your hand into his and curl your fingers around his palm. He did the same, engulfing you. His hands were much warmer, wider, bigger. Calloused and with silver scars, no doubt from too sharp knives.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

—————

You burst through the kitchen doors just as you broke. A burn in the corner of your eyes, a hollow thud in your chest as the adrenaline of being yelled at surged through you. A family with too many kids to keep track of, a plate of fries on the floor before you could bring out every meal, a stressed out mother who took out her frustration on you and the fact you’d forgotten the soda one of the small boys was yelling about. She was sharp about it, loud enough for the other customers to hear and you watched as Robin frowned from the booth she was serving.

She grabbed your elbow as you passed, feet threatening to stumble with how quick you moved, cheeks hot, throat tight. “I’ll get it,” she whispered. “Take a minute.”

But you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak before you could suck in a breath. “S’fine. It’s fine. I’ll fix it.”

So you let the kitchen door hit the wall as you almost ran in, eyes blinking back tears of embarrassment and the noise was enough for Eddie to look up from the grill where he was flipping burgers. He frowned at the sight of you, but this time, he looked concerned. You rushed past him to grab the glass of soda that was sitting forgotten on a tray - next to the extra basket of fries the woman had requested, fuck - and turned on your heel to go back out the way you came.

“Hey,” Eddie called after you, “what’s wrong?”

You brushed him away with a raised hand, the other holding the tray of missed items and you didn’t trust yourself to look back at the boy as you rushed back out the door. You sniffed and blinked before you put on a smile, approaching the woman who’d loudly berated you in front of the entire diner.

“I’m so sorry again,” you whispered as you placed the drink and fries on the messy table. One of the kids screamed and you flinched, trying your best to keep the smile on your face as the woman turned to you. “If there’s anything else I can get you, ju—”

“If there’s anything else I need, I’ll get it myself,” she scoffed meanly. Her voice was too sharp, still too loud, a biting thing that dug into your arm and wouldn’t let go. “You got a pretty face, honey, but that’s not gonna get you far. Can hear that empty space in that head from all the way over here.”

You blinked again, uncaring that a tear slipped out, a hot drip of water down one cheek. You kept smiling. In fact, you smiled all the way back into the kitchen before your breath stuttered and your face crumpled.

“Hey, hey, c’mon.” Eddie. At your side, a hand catching your elbow, fingertips grazing your skin like he was still too unsure to hold you fully. “C’mere. It’s fine.”

He led you through the kitchen, hand guiding you so your blurry eyes didn’t lead you into the corner of a station. There was something spicy cooking in a pan, garlic and chilli and soy that Argyle took over stirring as Eddie left it alone in favour of you. Jim must’ve heard the commotion in the dining room, ‘cause he made a rare appearance outside of his office, hand holding onto the door frame as he leaned out, frowning at what he saw.

“Chicago,” he called through the kitchen, voice booming over the radio, the sizzle of the grill, the drone of the vents. “You good? You wanna talk?”

You turned, bumping into Eddie’s side and shaking your head, all whilst trying to smile and appear like you were absolutely fine. Totally normal. Definitely not crying like a baby. You cringed, turning back around and ducking your chin to hide your glossy eyes, your wet cheeks.

“S’fine, Jim,” Eddie called back. “I’ve got her. Jus’ give us five minutes.”

“Munson, you got burgers on!” Your boss called back, you heard him sigh and Argyle told him that he’d manage.

“Five minutes!” Eddie said again, his voice sharper and louder than before and you were moving faster to the back door, bypassing the walk in altogether.

“If they burn, that’s too much money to get thrown in the trash, Eddie,” Hopper complained. “That’s prime fuckin’ beef from the Sinclairs, Eddie and I don’t got time to get Lucas back out for another delivery— hey! Are you listen—”

Eddie ushered you out of the fire exit, blue skies and too bright light making you squint, a rush of hot air that was heavier than the kitchen, muggy and smelling like cut grass and the smoke that came from the vent on the wall. The door snapped shut before Jim could finish talking.

The silence was a warm thing, cloying like the summer afternoon, the edge of a heatwave, the steam from the kitchen that lingered in the small alleyway out back. You brought the heels of your palms to your eyes, pushing there meanly as you sniffed a little wetly and tried to stop your bottom lip from trembling. If you faced the crumbling wall, maybe you could pretend Eddie wasn’t there, watching you.

“Hey, c’mon.”

You groaned.

“C’mon,” Eddie coaxed again, his hand pulling at your wrist, urging you to stop hiding. “You gotta stop letting customers get you all upset like this. ‘Specially the ones that are utter assholes.”

“You heard her?” You asked weakly, embarrassment crawling up your neck. You knew he would’ve, shit, Wayne probably heard it all the way down the street. Of course Eddie heard it from the kitchen. “God, that’s so—” you let out a small groan of anger, a soft wail that was tinged with a little shame.

“No, no, stop that,” Eddie frowned as you buried your face in your hands once more. He got you by your shoulders, palms and fingers curling over the bone there, impossibly wide, engulfing. You turned soft for him, letting him manhandle you until you were facing him, brows crinkled, your cheeks warm. “She was a bitch. You’re okay, it’s alright.”

You sucked in another breath, one of those awful ones that hitched and made your throat close up a little. It was hard to look into Eddie’s eyes. They were big and warm and earnest, crazily so, the colour of burnt honey and he was painfully close. The alleyway pushed you both together, space limited between the walls, the empty pallets, the stacked up crates.

“She was out of order, yeah?” Eddie continued softly, his thumb pushing softly into the meat of your shoulder, drawing circles through your uniform. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re all just human here, Chicago. It’s fine.”

You nodded, numb. Tears still stained your hot cheeks, salt gathering in the corners of your mouth and you felt embarrassed at the reaction, the white hot rush of anxiety that gripped the back of your neck as soon as someone raised their voice at you. You blinked again, feeling heavy, another fresh wave of tears making your vision turn into kaleidoscopes. You scrunched your face, annoyed with yourself, head tilting back to the strip of blue sky you could see between the buildings roofs.

“God, I’m so fucking lame,” you groaned. “So stupid.”

You brought your chin back down to just catch the boy smiling, a dopey, soft thing that made you think he was gonna laugh at you. He did, but it wasn’t mean. In fact, Eddie’s laugh was a damn pretty thing. Scratchy and raspy and warm, enough to make you stop screwing your face up and blink at him.

“You’re not lame,” he told you firmly. He dropped his hands from your shoulders now that you weren’t intent on hiding. You found you missed the weight of them on you, a grounding feeling that helped the tears subside. “Or stupid. Shit, kid, you gotta stop being so hard on yourself.”

“I’m always forgetting stuff though,” you argued. The sun was a blazing thing above you both, hot on your head, your shoulders, the back of your neck. Your uniform itched under the heat and you were backing away into the shadows along the line of the diner wall. Eddie followed, shoulder to shoulder as he leaned against the brick, lounging enough to bring him to the same height as you. “I’m messing up orders and I keep walking into the same stupid table - even though it’s always there! I got a bruise on my hip the size of a fucking peach,” you grumbled unhappily.

Eddie snorted at hearing you swear, a cannonball of a word coming out of your sweet mouth, usually talking softly and shyly at him and customers. He knocked your shoulder with his and tutted. “You’re still new,” he shrugged when you scoffed. You’d been at the diner for almost two months. “Get out of here with that, you are. You’re in a new town and a new job. Give yourself a break.”

“I’m just— god.” You bit down on your bottom lip until it hurt. “I’m such a crybaby, I hate it. I must look like such a mess.” Your eyes felt sore, your cheeks puffy and warm, all too familiar and just as embarrassing as it was when you were ten, fifteen, twenty years old.

Eddie just shrugged, shoving his hands in the pockets of his chef whites. He looked at your face, just for a second, before ducking his chin and studying the concrete below his feet. “Nah,” he said quietly, “you look pretty like always.”

It was quiet for a second or two, the surprise on your face morphing into a crooked smile, a quirk of one corner of your lips at the boy’s words. You sniffed and laughed a little watery, a shy sounding thing that made Eddie blink at you. “You’re being nice to me,” you told him.

He grinned like he couldn’t help himself, a sharp, sudden thing that made his face look even prettier. Curls spilled from his poorly tied bun and his cheeks went rose coloured, more blush than flushed from the heat. He knitted his brows together in faux confusion, tried to act too cool, too blasé. “I am, aren’t I?” He huffed. “Weird.”

You shoved at him in jest, your hand on his shoulder and he barely even budged. But you felt a thrill in touching him, your hand just by the muscles in his arm, where you knew a tattoo lay, curling around a bicep that you couldn’t see under his uniform. It was easy to joke like this, to smile and wipe your eyes one last time when Eddie was playing nice.

You felt like a teen with a crush, that lovesick, giddy type of softness settling in your chest and it purred when you looked at the boy. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But Eddie got prettier when he smiled at you and when he reached out to straighten the pen that was about to call out of your chest pocket, you were done. A goner.

You wanted to ask if this made you friends.

Instead, you swallowed your embarrassment and hoped you hadn’t been staring. “Thank you,” you murmured shyly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Eddie pulled open the fire exit and waited for you to enter first, holding open the door as the noise of the diner flooded back out to you. Kids yelling, the grill popping, the coffee machine whirring.

“Would you rather Jim gave you one of his famous three minute counselling sessions?” Eddie winced theatrically. “I haven’t had one myself, but rumour has it there’s a stress ball and some talk about toughening up and how the world just ain’t fair.”

You laughed, walking back into the kitchen with Eddie by your side. Your shoulder brushed against his arm and you shook your head, looking up at him with a heat in your cheeks you were sure he’d be able to notice. “No, m’glad it was you.”

You must’ve surprised the boy, because he blinked as he stopped at the grill. Argyle had flipped all the patties and left the spatula by the countertop but Eddie didn’t take his eyes off of you as he grasped it. You watched his brows lift a little, mouth parting before he closed it again and nodded, looking a little numb.

And then: “cool. Yeah, no, good. Come get me next time too.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #linecook!eddie

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harmonysanreads · 10 months

Note

just a thought but smth LAUGHABLY funny is a very bitter neuvillette. since he’s in a very high position of power, his words might even be law itself atp, so imagine him as your loser bitter ex.

trying to execute this can be silly—bc who’s willing to go that far to spite someone’s ex? neuvillette probably would. bc you see: he cherished you so much. he was willing to grovel for you, disregarding his status and his character. you’ve seen it all, him breaking his cold mask. beneath it all, is just a very clingy and obsessive man. so once you left under the pretences of him being “too overbearing, it was suffocating you,” he let it go quite well. you thought he’d argue with you on it (as he would usually do) and even forbid you from leaving. but nay, you left him the next day with his head hung low and a look of defeat shadowing his face. it felt like mutual acceptance for both parts, it was hard of course, but at least you were glad neuvillette didn’t react harshly against you.

give it a month, not too long, until you realise that you’ve been laid off. quite harshly. you had a pretty stable job with good income. suddenly your boss sends you a letter one day out of the blue. your boss says you’ve been fired. why? you asked. didn’t say much. ok, maybe it’s time to go find another job. you do, only to end up being turned away from every single one you’ve applied to. have you been blacklisted? what did you do exactly for the entirety of fontaine to completely shun you away?

you’re low-key struggling with your income. the place you were staying at, you’re on the verge of being kicked out because you’re behind payments. you might as well flee this city altogether, but you really don’t want to give up since you’ve lived your whole life here. you keep on pursuing, finding any place willing to take you in. unsurprisingly, you’ve met a dead end. you’re teetering the edge of snapping so you wonder, has it something to do with your records? because as far as you know, you once had a good job that you got all by yourself due to you track record and lists of achievements. not a single blemish, you think, is on your track record. you were once well respected and regarded by peers and acquaintances alike, but now? you are nothing but a mere ghost to them, completely forgotten. so after much contemplation, you’re seizing to get your hands on your papers and records. were you that unqualified?

until one day, your questions were answered. there was a loud knock coming from your door. it was your last week living at your house, so when you opened the door to welcome the government officials at your doorsteps, they eyed boxes behind you. the space behind you was barren and it did not feel like a home anymore. there’s a sullen look on your face, so with a sympathetic sigh the man in front of you stated his reason for coming here. “we have a warrant out for your arrest.”

it rushes out like a wave that smothers you. a warrant? you haven’t done anything unlawful, you’re sure of it. but now as you bask in this dreadful situation, is that why your life has slowly fallen apart? there’s no way, no way that’s true. what crime did you commit? did you do something awfully criminal or something completely small that the laws of fontaine has harshly persecuted you for? fontaine has always been strict in that regard. “what for?” you ask, it sounded like you had an entire list of crimes you were hiding, yet you had a look of genuine surprise and confusion. “multiple, actually.” the man responds. ok, now this is getting really weird. he asks if you’re willing to come with them for questioning, maybe discuss about it more thoroughly, perhaps it can answer some of the questions frantically falling out of your mouth.

you come with them, under arrest currently, as they have you transported to some kind of holding room. you’re now scared shitless, wondering what possibly could you have done wrong. you’re praying to archons that this was all just a dream. you’re life was already going to shit, but now? you’ve completely reached your breaking point. all in a span of a few months where you were laid off without any explanation, blacklisted from every place apparently, and as of last week you were packing up your things to leave your home without even knowing where to go. now, you just found out you had not one, but MULTIPLE warrants. you started laughing, quite uncomfortably, at yourself the more you pondered. the echo of your lonely laughs laughed back at you as you stared across a wall as it all slowly melted into a choked sob. what were you going to do now?

before you could sit in silent reflection any longer, the door next to you creaked open. you turn to look at who it was, expecting to see an investigator or maybe even a lawyer, but your face fell the moment you saw who it was.

neuvillette. that bastard.

he enters and sits in front of you, with a proposition that makes your stomach twists and turn. he’s made your life a complete hell and now he saunters his power and hold against you, painting it as a guiding light. he said, he’d help you against your warrants. perhaps even help you reconvene your entire life that has been shattered. it sounds a little too good to be true and it was happening all to fast. your life fell apart the moment you left him. and now? you had a chance to pick it all back up. “so, what’s the catch?”

you really hated that look on his face when you asked. you only knew, you’d be trapped regardless of the choice you make wether to accept his offer or not.

(if i ever return in the future: can i be 🗽 anon?)

Just a thought???? 🗽anon THIS IS A FULL-COURSE MEAL, A BANQUET.

But what you despised more was how it made you feel, that curve of his lips was uncharacteristic— if you were being generous in your description— and malicious if you were not. It made you feel as though you were thrown into the ocean without any experience of swimming, it sent the twirling of your thoughts askew and the air stolen from your lungs.

“Why, you'll have to be mine again. No second chances, no excuses, no backing out.” Neuvillette shifts in his seat, inching just the right bit closer to your increasingly distressed form.

“...Of course, of course! Why didn't I think it sooner? This was all your doing, you were behind it all! You—” it took all your willpower to not take advantage of the distance and commit something that'd actually earn you a cell in Fontaine's jail, hand settling on jabbing a finger at the judge's chest to rid your rage even in the slight.

You're unsure of what your visage has contorted to, your restless eyes search his for a reflection, blurred emotions stare back at you. Your body trembles as the dots connect, a touch of silk transferred across your whole palm as it fists against his ribbon. For a moment, you vacillate between who to be angry at ; him, the corrupt world or you. If the universe had at least sent a sign a month prior, your litany of curses could've been directed at the culprit instead of your fate.

“I should've known you were up to something when you didn't retaliate, when you just let me go like that, I should've...I..”

At this instance, vehement words threaten to spill from your lips as well but a fraction of what remains of your sanity makes you hold your tongue as the gravity of your situation settles in, only a croaked why escaping past your throat. It must've been pitiful, because Neuvillette's smirk falters and straightens into a thin line. One gloved hand takes a tentative hold of your wrist still clinging to his clothes and you hate how familiar his touch feels.

“Do you wish to know why?”

The offer entices your head to rise again, you take a shaky inhale and the Chief Justice proceeds according to the cue.

“Because I love you.”

One of the lamps illuminating the room flickers off, that little sound bounces off of the walls and fills the deathly quiet momentarily. Fury turns to confusion and then disbelief. Your fingers slacken and this time, his hand tightens around your wrist.

“You're insane.”

Neuvillette's head tilts in inquisition, a wordless encouragement for you to continue.

“You abused your power, had me fired and blacklisted from all the working environments of Fontaine, soiled my reputation and attached false crimes to my name.. because you love me?”

Your free arm reaches for the judge's collar and yanks him closer, a grunt escapes him but he makes no further move and it unsettles you. For such an offensive action, you'd expected a nasty glare at the very least ; while that would've been scary, it'd still make more sense than the neutral expression on his fair face.

“Yes, is this not what is common? You told me yourself that you do everything within your power to hold onto the person you love.” his nonchalant answer has you let go of the fabric hastily, backing away as though you were faced with an alien instead of a man. Neuvillette never relinquishes his hold but a sigh does escape him at your behavior, a somewhat normal reaction at last.

“I once praised your stubbornness as your biggest strength but do you not see that at this moment, it's your greatest weakness? It's holding you back from rewinding everything.” the judge leans in and you lean away til your back hits the seat, he pins you by your wrist.

“I promise all will be resolved, no one in the entirety of this nation will utter a word about this, everyone will behave as though nothing happened, that this was just a tiny lovers' quarrel. All you have to do is say yes.” Neuvillette's white locks tickle your skin, his voice turns hushed in utmost secrecy and his breath fans the heat blossoming across your neck.

You want to push him away, you want to recoil from his proximity and you want the earth to split open and swallow you whole. His free hand takes your chin and forces you to face the tempest brewing in his eyes, the intensity pushes you to break and to comply — you don't want to comply or to say yes. Because you know what happens if you do, it's the exact suggestion he'd whispered before your engagement but it was different then. Back then, you'd known you could back out and that's why you'd been worriless. You could deny him now as per your sheer pertinacity as well, but Neuvillette makes it clear that all that'd do is making the path to the inevitable more painful.

After all, the waves never offer consolation to the ruined sand-castle, they only wait until they can destroy it again.

#anon writing #neuvillette brainrot #──⚝🗽 anon #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #yandere genshin imagines #fontaine #yandere genshin #neuvillette x you

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luveline · 4 months

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can we see what christmas is like with eddie, reader and roan? 🫶

the munson family and their pre christmas priorities ♡ (step)mom!reader, 1k

“I'm sick of being a dad,” Eddie says. “I'm done. You're going to live with your Uncle Wayne.”

Roan roars with laughter, her hair dusting the floor, her t-shirt dipping down to expose her chubby belly where she hangs from Eddie's hands. “Dad, pick me up!”

“I'm Eddie now to you.”

“I'm,” —she cackles— “sorry! Pick me up!”

Eddie gives her a last good shake before gently lowering her to the floor. She's all flushed cheeks and big eyes, her hair a riot around her head as she wipes stray strands from her mouth. “I'm sorry, daddy,” she says, pouting, her thin brows rising up her forehead. “Don't be mad.”

“I'm furious.”

“No, you're not! You're not angry, dad, you're smiling.”

Eddie forces his lips into a deep frown. “I told you to keep her in line!”

You huff from your place by the Christmas tree. “Give it up, Eds. Santa doesn't come for grown ups, I already told you that.” You place a final small gift atop the small mountain of silver-wrapped boxes and straighten it to perfection. “So I have to make sure you get what you deserve.”

“What was I s'posed to do?” Roan asks, sitting up. Her pyjamas are just a little too big, the shirt falling to her thighs and the pants covering her toes.

“Restrain her,” Eddie says, grabbing Roan under the arms to help her onto her feet. “Let me roll your pants up, babe.”

“I shrank in the night,” she says.

Eddie smooths her hair out of her face as he kneels in front of her. “You're so funny. Santa will bring you all kinds of new pyjamas tomorrow, he told me. But don't tell him I told you.”

“Did you get me anything?” Roan asks.

If only she knew. “Yeah, we got you some gifts too. But we're gonna put them out when Santa does, okay?”

“Okay.” She beams. Eddie pulls her pants from under her little feet to roll the hems up, worried she'll slip and smash her face on the wood floors.

“You're excited,” Eddie says, moving to her second leg, “I can feel you vibrating like a dog.”

“Woof,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck. She's in a very cuddly mood tonight.

“Oh, what a beautiful puppy I have. She's so cute.” He hugs her lightly, black curls trapped either side of them. Eddie sits back on his calves and she lets herself fall into his lap. “What kind of puppy are you? A poodle?”

“No, I wanna be a dalmatian!”

“Of course,” he hums, stroking her hair. “How could I forget? You love damn-nations.”

You stand up from the tree to poke at them with your foot. “Can we have hot chocolate now?”

“Yeah!”

“Puppy's can't have chocolate,” Eddie says, encouraging Roan back to tuck her hair behind her ears. “So you'll have to be human Ro again.”

She sighs forlornly. “Okay.”

You make your way into the kitchen, paper chains hanging in the doorway and snowflake stickers holographic against the dark window. It's only 5PM, but the sun has firmly set, leaving the outside world in total darkness. You flick on the kitchen light and immediately head to the stove to heat the stove top kettle where it’s lived this last month on the back hob. “Milk, please?” you ask.

Eddie's already in the fridge. He passes you the milk, ignoring the mounds of foil wrapped meats and cheeses, his stomach aching in longing. “One more sleep,” he says, hooking a pint of milk on his pinky.

Roan attempts to climb your legs. You pick her up and put her on the counter, shielding her from the stove with your body. “What's for dinner?” she asks you.

“How about soup?” you ask. When Roan wrinkles her nose, you add, “With croutons? We could have yummy vegetable soup with crispy croutons.” Still wrinkled. “Or we could have tomato soup and grilled cheese?”

“With extra cheese?” Roan asks.

“Sure, princess. Lots and lots of cheese.”

Eddie opens the kettle. “What was in here?”

“Milk last night, but I already washed it. I knew we'd be having more hot chocolate,” you say, words shaped by your smile as Roan pulls you in for a hug. “It's so cold, huh, baby.”

“My nose is cold.”

“I can feel it!”

Eddie pours the entire pint of milk into the kettle. It'll be just enough for all three of you to have a full mug, and if he uses the big mugs there'll be no risk of overflow once the whipped cream and marshmallows have been added.

The milk doesn't need to boil, only warm. While it's heating he takes the hot chocolate powder from the cupboard and throws in a couple of heaping spoonfuls. The milk quickly turns a rich brown.

“Should I put some real chocolate in there too?” Eddie asks.

“Duh, dad!” Roan says.

You second her agreement more kindly, “Yes! Definitely yes. It's always best with the real stuff too.” You rub Roan's shoulders. “Yeah?”

Eddie's getting jealous, honestly. He ignores you both, shutting the lid on the kettle and easing his way between your arm and Roan's. “Let me in,” he demands.

You curl an arm behind his back. When you look up into his face, you couldn't look more in love. There's a shine to your eyes, a reverence he can't miss, and he's expecting your compliment before you give it.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you say, kissing the side of his chin.

He drops his head onto yours and pulls Roan in as close as he can without knocking her off of the counter. The air has already begun to smell of chocolate, though the smell of honeyed ham lingers. Roan herself smells like no tears shampoo. Eddie sniffs you curiously.

“Stop sniffing me.”

“What do you smell like?”

“Nothing. I'm not wearing any perfume.”

You smell like yourself. He can't explain it, but he likes it, hiding his nose in the seam of your hairline.

Roan cracks first, pushing you both away. “How long will it take?”

“Any minute now,” Eddie says, kissing your cheek before pulling away. “Let me get that chocolate.”

“You didn't put the chocolate in? Dad.”

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seokjinsonlyone · 1 year

Text

this how i think bts would be if you both knew you liked each other but you weren’t dating yet

a/n: you guys been looking forward to this one hope it lives up to your expectations 🥹👉👈 and you should like totally lemme know what you thought about it after you're done

namjoon:

calls you on the phone every night; asks about your day and genuinely wants to know every little detail no matter how insignificant; gets shy when you ask about his

always extends an invite to you to join him at a museum; he goes to so many so often so he understands if you can’t go every time but he really likes it when you can go; likes hearing your thoughts on different pieces no matter how ridiculous bc you’re really not that well versed in art and architecture; he also likes the look in your eye and how intently you listen to him when he actually explains the intent behind the art

wraps his arms all the way around you, completely engulfing you when you hug; gives you an extra squeeze and rubs circles on your lower back before letting go

pet names start slipping out willy nilly; beautiful, princess, pretty girl, lovely; like the more and longer he likes you the less your name come out his mouth

he got mad rizz dog; like everyone once in a while he's gonna hit you with a pick up line that catches you off guard; gon have you giggling and blushing; but he also will be giggling and blushing afterward bc he gets shy after being cute

lowkey wants your approval for everything; doesn’t NEED it but he’d like it tho for sure; like would let you listen to his unreleased music and wait with bated breath while you listened until you gushed about how good it all was

if someone came up to him while y’all were hanging out and started flirting with him he would not notice at all; you’d wait until he was done carrying on the conversation and (semi)jokingly be like “so when’s the date” and he’d be soooo confused; “huh?” “they were totally flirting with you!” “really?” “if they smiled any harder they cheeks would’ve split open and did you see how hard they were laughing? you not that funny joon 🙄” “i’m sorry i didn’t notice. i promise i wasn’t flirting back tho. the only person i wanna flirt with is you.”

seokjin:

turns red whenever you’re around; like just constantly feels called out even if no one said anything bc it’s like he knows how he feels, all his friends know how he feels, and most importantly you know how he feels; embarazzing

becomes your local fruit dealer; like whenever his family or friends give him a bunch of produce from their various farms you’re definitely on the list of people he gifts them too; he gives you a bigger share than his members too <3

sends you pictures of the food he cooks and always saves you a plate after hearing you talk about how good it looks

asks for your switch code and invites you to play games with him whenever he has down time; like will stay up to 4am playing mario strikers or nintendo switch sports with you

gets really good at origami bc one time you met up and he felt awkward not having anything to get you so he used the gum wrapper in his pocket to make you a paper airplane; now every time you meet up he has a new paper sculpture; like you end up with a whole drawer of paper hats, planes, cups, flowers, frogs, ninja stars; has a cute little message written inside that makes you smile each time you unfold them

overly helpful; like he tryna do whatever he can for you; he’s holding your bag, opening doors for you, at one point he even goes so far as to lay his jacket on the bench y’all sitting on so your butt won’t be cold 💀

his number one goal when y’all are around each other is to make you laugh; like it doesn’t really matter if you’re laughing with him or at him as long as he hears that cackle he considers the interaction a success

yoongi:

not used to initiating any kind of interaction (outside of work) with people so he just lingers around you and hopes something happens; takes you a while to realize that’s his way of asking for attention

pretty much willing to go along with whatever to make you happy; like if you were complaining about never having anyone to go to the store with he’d offer himself up so fast and that’s how you’d end up with him in ulta helping you pick out lashes

has to get scolded by seokjin repeatedly bc the one text he sent him in the past month was left on read but he replies to you almost immediately every time you message him

silently takes care of you; like if you were eating together and got choked up on something he's just gonna get up and get you a bottle of water then slide it over without ever looking you in the eye; or if you complained about your hands being cold he'd start carrying around those hand warmer pouch thingies waiting for the next time you said something then he'd just put them in your pocket

starts opening up to you 🥺

it may not last for long but when you’re speaking with him he’ll look directly into your eyes

his hands flinch a lot when you're around; sometimes he's just hit with the inexplicable urge to hold your hand or touch you in some sort of way but he hasn't quite figured out y'all's dynamic yet so he's afraid to go for it

hoseok:

becomes zendayafied; like if you think it’s bad with jimin… you ain’t seen the worst of it; you might as well be richard pryor at the apollo the way he be cracking up over any and every little thing you do; his laugh can be heard halfway across the world

he stalks your ig page and replies to all your stories with a series of emojis; shows them to his friends and goes on and on about how cute you are

sends you a bouquet of flowers and texts you a little later on asking if you got them so you send him a picture of you holding them and he responds “☹️ i was hoping you’d be in the pic but all i see are flowers”

notices the little things about you; like he’s the type to compliment your earrings or your nail color

thinks everything you do is like super great; like if you drew a little doodle on a post it note or something he's gonna keep it and in his phone case; like 100% the type to actually display a painting you did in his house even if you feel like it looks like an 8 year old did it

has a special hyper focus on you; i just imagine y'all being at a party and you're in a group and he's being hobi ya know chopping it up with everyone kekeing and the like and you could be there next to him but not really actively participating in the conversation but if you tried to slip away to like get a drink or whatever he would grab your wrist and licherally stop mid sentence to ask you where you were going; would leave the group to go do whatever you wanted to do as well

adds a bunch of heart emojis to your contact in his phone; [yn ❤️😍💜🥰💞😘💖🤩💓😚💘]

jimin:

buys you a scarf when it gets chilly bc he notices you never have one on and he doesn’t want you to catch a cold; personally wraps it around your neck himself before you go outside

perpetual flirt; like there's some kind of innuendo to everything he says to you

is able to pick up on your moods scary easily so he knows when you’re a bit off and lets you know he’s willing to listen if u wanna talk; whether you choose to take him up on his offer or not he gives a really big, tight, long hug which helps you out more than you’re willing to admit

is easily flustered by you; like if you told him you liked his hair or his sweater or something he's gonna do that thing he does where he looks down, smiles, and then hides his face

always trying to impress you; like if you told him you admired people who were good at art he finna brush up on his skills a little and then next time you see him he gon have a sketch pad in fron t of him doing some crazy doodles; or if you told him you liked his voice when you're around he'll be acting like he's being nonchalant playing it cool but be putting in mad effort humming one of your favorite songs adding in some jazmine sullivan type runs

tries to meet up with you as much as possible; like your presence is addicting to him and he wants to take in all that he can; definitely calls you at some point if he can't see you that day even if it's like 1am and you're definitely asleep he's gonna chance it and call you; "are you awake?" "no" "oh i'm sorry i'm sorry i just missed you today" "missed you too mini" "i bet you looked pretty" "thank you but you have to let me get back to sleep" "alright alright imma let you go but one more question" "what's up?" *starts giggling* "what are you wearing right now?😏" "😐 i'm hanging up" *giggles even harder* "okay okay i'm done i'm sorry for waking you sleep tight beautiful" "night mini"; and then he's awake for another hour and a half staring at the ceiling with a big smile on his face thinking about how much he likes you

always walks you to your door when he's dropping you off home and won't leave until you inside with the door closed even if you insist on seeing him off as well so you just gotta watch him walk off from the window

taehyung:

gets shy after complimenting you; the “you look really pretty today” to tata mic face pipeline is strong

goes out of his way to find out when you'll be at certain places and then acts like it's a coincidence when y'all run into each other

feels all tingly inside when you like something he recommended; like if he recommended you a song and you listened to it later and then texted him about how much you loved it you would not be able to wipe the grin off his face

he fishes for compliments from you; like will get all dolled up in his 3 piece suit, hair slicked back just bc he knows you’ll be around and wants you to tell him he looks nice; if you don’t initiate it he will; will stand next to you and be like “ahh i just felt like wearing this today, it’s my favorite one. i think it looks nice. doesn’t it?”

squishes your cheeks between his hands when he deems you as being too cute

takes an active interest in your interests; like if you were really into some group and you told him about it he'd go and listen to their songs and send you his favorites and if they ever toured he's definitely getting y'all tickets to their show; or if you really liked to do paper mache or something he's gonna set aside a day for you to show him how to do it

has his arm around the back of your chair when y’all sit next to each other bc he can’t work up the nerve to actually put his arm around you

jungkook:

walks so close to you that your hand bumps together with every step; takes about five minutes of contemplation and hand flinching before he takes your hand in his; probably puts your conjoined hands in his pocket; looks down at you for about five seconds to gauge your reaction but quickly looks away when you make eye contact; tips of his ears are red the whole time

invites you over to play with his dogs, literally; no funny business is happening; he can’t be with you like that when he likes you as much as he does not until y’all are official just so he has confirmation that you’re on the same page

he be staring at you; like whenever you not looking at him he’s looking at you; watching, observing, admiring, mentally cataloguing all your little quirks, stockpiling them for a rainy day (re: waiting for the right time he can jokingly imitate you)

sometimes it feels like it’s one step forward two steps back with him bc every time he reaches what he feels is “the next level” he has to stop and reevaluate his feelings so he gets distant; but when he’s sure of how he feels again he goes back to following behind you like a lil puppy

his crush on you gets fatter whenever y’all are in a group conversation bc you always notice when he’s trying to say something but can’t find the right timing and create an opening for him to speak

always sits next to you; like there could be 10 empty seats in a room and he's always gonna jam himself as close to you as possible even if he doesn't plan on saying anything

y'all would have a couple late night convenience store dates; like y'all would be on the phone at like midnight talking about how you're craving ramen and snacks and next thing you know he's offering to pick you up and then you sitting next to him in da local 7/11 wit a cup ramen, a diet coke, and some sour gummy worms; he'd lightly gasp and go stiff for a second before relaxing a bit if you randomly laid your head on his shoulder after you finished your food complaining about how full and tired you were; would go back and forth with himself over whether he should just wrap his arm around you but ultimately just decides on leaning his head against yours in return

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #kim namjoon fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #hobi fic #j hope fanfic #hoseok x you #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader

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stinkyme · 7 months

Text

Hello! Finally it's Chuuya's turn! :D I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)

CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader, jealousy (kinda), established relationship, reader is wearing a skirt for practicality reasons, semi-public sex (in the office), reader gives Chuuya blowjob & handjob beneath the table, ejaculation in the mouth, shoe riding (reader), Chuuya uses "sweetheart" because reader used it for someone else, prideful reader..kinda, reassurance & apologizing (reader), rougher sex, creampie, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

* shoe will be cleaned before, don't worry

** I didn't want to make Chuuya as mean and serious as others given that I don't think he would ever be mean to his s/o + given his insecurities and stuff, I imagine him rather shutting down when seriously jealous and hurt than anything. So, I decided to make this lighthearted and Chuuya more so "sassy" and bitter, therefore it's more chill & silly I suppose :3

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

Jealousy sex || Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

"Ahh, you are the cutest!" you say loudly in front of Chuuya's office door, talking to one of your coworkers. This conversation has been going on for a while now, filled with your loud laughs, giggles and praises.

"Look who is speaking. You are the cutest one here..honestly, it makes it easier to come to work in the morning..or night." your coworker replies, so obviously flirting.

Chuuya was already losing his patience, but at this moment all he could do was remain silent as he was waiting for you. There are few parts he can't hear, but this one he hears perfectly.

"Well, thank you so much sweetheart! I will let him know, no worries at all." you say in the sweetest voice you could, making sure Chuuya heard every word.

Frankly, you just thought it would be a little bit funny to see him jealous. You had no ill or malicious intent, you just wanted to get a small reaction out of him.

You open the door, entering Chuuya's office. He was sitting down, evidently piled up in paperwork.

"They finally finished this, luckily it only needs your signature." you say in a bright, happy tone as you walk to his desk, leaving the papers on the side. Chuuya doesn't even lift his head as he speaks.

"Yeah, thanks sweetheart." he says in a slightly bitter tone and it makes you feel excited. You decide to play dumb.

"Aww, you never call me that." you say in a softer tone, observing him.

"Yeah? It seems that's what we call our coworkers here." he says in a disinterested tone, trying to play it off.

"I am more than just your coworker, you know?" you raise your eyebrow, tone barely offended. He remains silent as the sound of the pen fills up the room.

Well, there you have it.

"Okay...can you just sign those papers so I can bring them back?" you ask, losing the playfulness.

"I don't think you will be going anywhere." he says in a mixture of certainess and slyness.

"But-"

"They can wait." he puts the paper together, gently dropping them on the table for them all to line up. He finally looks at you, his expression revealing hints of frustration.

"You seem mad." you say, corners of your lips resisting a smile. You slowly walk up to him as he turns his chair a bit, making an opening for you.

"I am not mad, merely frustrated." he sighs out as you position yourself on his lap. He places his hand on your waist almost instantly.

"Yeah? Something I can help with?" you gently tilt your head as your voice drops a little bit lower.

"Surely, maybe stop flirting with people right outside my office." he says in a lower tone as well, but not as lustful like yours.

"So everywhere else is fine?" you tease him as you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a needy look.

"Watch your mouth." his voice is sharp and his eyes squint in momentary frustration.

"Ahh, are you jealous?" you tease more, gently brushing your fingertips on the back of his head.

"Hah, don't make me laugh." he chuckles, but you can tell your little joke got to him. You shift a bit in his lap.

It kinda gets to you as well, knowing how good he treats you.

This was unnecessary.

You get slightly lost in thoughts. Chuuya notices and begins slowly kissing your neck which snaps you back into the moment. He gently bites on your skin before he leans his lips closer to your ear.

"If you feel bad, I am sure your mouth can do much more than just annoy me and make me laugh." he whispers, voice a bit raspy and you feel your lower tummy filling with excitement. You give him a little smile and begin gently kissing behind his ear, your fingers playing with his hair as you do. He lets out a little sigh and you can feel his cock getting harder beneath you. You lean away from his neck and get off his lap, placing a quick kiss on his lips. You position yourself beneath the table just in case someone walks in.

Chuuya turns his chair more towards you. You unzip and unbutton his pants as he lifts his hips, helping you to slide his pants and boxers down. His cock is half-hard and you wrap your hand around it, stroking it at a medium pace. Chuuya lets out a little whimper of pleasure and relaxation as his cock quickly gets fully hard inside the pressure of your palm. He keeps watching you, his gaze lingering over your face as his cock throbs inside your palm. You lean closer, your lips slowly wrapping around the tip of his cock. You place your hands on his inner thighs for balance and better access. Your tongue circles around the tip, barely touching it and Chuuya places his shaky hand on top of your head, letting out a soft moan.

You gently rub the tip of your tongue over the rubbery portion of the skin, right beneath his tip. His hips slightly jerk forward as this spot is quite sensitive for Chuuya. He begins slowly thrusting his hips and you meet his movement with your head. You gently suck in your cheeks, pressuring his length as your tongue trails over the underside of his cock. He lets out a bit louder moan as you begin moving faster, creating more vacuum-like sensation and stimulating all of his sweet spots.

Chuuya thrusts his hips deeper, the tip of his cock kissing the back of your throat and you slightly gag. You squeeze his thighs as you keep bobbing your head up and down, moving your tongue in zig-zag motion from time to time. He lets out a sharp groan as you keep applying more pressure and moving faster without giving him a break. You slide one of your hands over his inner thigh, gently cupping his balls and massaging them with your palm and fingertips. He lets a loud gasp, his cock twitching inside your mouth. You slightly arch your back, feeling the precum leaking and coating your panties.

You keep on twirling your tongue around his cock and make your way to the tip, again making a vacuum-like sensation as you suck on it. The tip of your tongue rolls over his meatus, gently pressing in from time to time. Chuuya lets out whimpers and quieter moans more frequently as you bring your other hand and stroke the rest of his cock. He begins quivering in his seat, hips jolting from time to time as he grips your hair slightly. You begin pressuring his balls a little bit more as your tongue slides over the sides of his tip - moving in endless circles. Your strokes become faster and you can feel him pulsing inside your palm.

"Fuck-!" he lets out a bit loudly, a gasp preventing him from speaking further. You smile as you continue your treatment, your panties soaking at this point.

Chuuya's body starts twitching more as he gets closer to his release, throwing his head back to lean against the chair back. He lets out guttural whimpers and moans as you keep up your pace, stimulating all of his sensitive parts and spots. You feel his precum melting on your tongue and it quickly turns into thicker portions. Chuuya is breathing heavily, his breath short and quick as moans keep filling up the room. You feel his tip twitch inside your mouth as he becomes silent for a moment, multiple thick portions of cum finally leaking out of his tip.

As soon as he begins orgasming, he continues letting out shaky moans, his thighs twitching. You keep stroking his cock throughout the whole length of his climax. You swiftly slide your tongue over his meatus, cleaning it as well as swallowing all the cum he released inside your mouth. You slowly let go of his balls as his body relaxes. Using an opportunity, you roughly suck on his sensitive tip a few more times, earning a few loud gasps and a sharp whimper from Chuuya. You let go of his cock as you unwrap your lips, observing his slightly red tip. He swallows, his breathing a bit more intense due to the last move you pulled.

"So, did I earn your forgiveness?" you ask teasingly as you clean the corners of your mouth with your finger. Chuuya gives you a look that was almost telling you "as if".

"You will have to work a bit harder for that." he says slightly breathless as he opens the drawer of the table. You begin slowly standing up and he swiftly puts you back down using his hand. He pushes the top of your head and you kneel in front of him again.

"Not so quick." he says in a serious tone as he takes out the wipe using it to clean his leather shoe.

"I still have paperwork to do, if you want to please yourself.." he pauses and taps his foot on the ground.

"You are mean." you say, slightly pouting.

"You are lucky I even cleaned it." he says with a bitter tone and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

"I am simply busy, sweetheart." he mimics the way you said it before. You sigh out as it seems he hasn't forgiven you yet.

You slide your panties to the side as you spread your legs as much as possible for your clit to reach the shoe. Your arms wrap around his calf as you try to rub your clit, very unsuccessfully.

Of course he had to make it as impractical as possible. A dickhead.

"Could you at least lift it a little bit?" you ask in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Sure." he says as he doesn't look at you, his cheek resting on his hand as he uses his other hand to write. He lifts his foot abruptly which results in your pussy getting a light slap. You let out a little yelp and Chuuya doesn't even react. You begin slowly grinding on his shoe, your clit finally receiving awaited friction. Embarrassed? Of course you feel a bit embarrassed, but you are too needy to care. You cling onto his calf more as he continues doing the paperwork, not paying attention. A light moan escapes your throat as you rub against the very sensitive spot.

However, your panties keep slipping back into place which annoys you. You let go of his calf, using one of your hands to keep your panties on the side as you use the other one to provide you support from behind, angling your hips a bit better. Unfortunately, with how cramped it is, it just irritates you even more as there is barely any proper friction. You are too prideful right now, so you keep barely riding his leather shoe, letting out a few moans here and there as you rub the right spot.

Thankfully, you are wet enough so this shouldn't take too long even if orgasm doesn't end up to be intense. You keep on riding his shoe, arching your back a bit more to find a better angle. You finally do as your clit only slides over the tip of his shoe. You let out softer moans, trying to be as quiet as possible. Your movement is quick as you are eager and desperate to cum. Chuuya suddenly lowers the shoe, as soon as your moans get louder, leaving your pussy deprived.

"I know you have evident issues with your loudness, but you will have to keep it down." he says in a serious tone as he looks down at you.

"Funny coming from you." you say with a slightly accusatory tone.

"It's not my loudness that you have a problem with." you say irritated and he just gives you a small shrug, a little sly smile spreading on his face.

"And your pants are still down, so, you definitely don't bother thinking about somebody walking in or hearing anything." you say bitterly and he shrugs again. You know he just wants to delay your orgasm or make you beg for him.

"You saw right through me. Now what, sweetheart?" he asks in a lower tone.

"Oh will you let that go?! You are a vengeful man." you say slightly louder as you move up, almost hitting your head on the table. He just lifts his foot again, slapping your pussy once more and you gasp out. You almost immediately begin riding his shoe, in a messy and incoherent pace as you are getting annoyed.

You hear Chuuya chuckle as he watches you struggle and you slap his leg. A little "fuck you asshole" escapes your mouth before you can even think it through and your blood freezes as Chuuya's gaze becomes heavy.

"What was that?" he asks, tone low and almost threatening.

"Nothing." you reply quickly as you continue riding his shoe, now more shaky.

"Nothing?" he says as he gives you a prolonged gaze. You let out a small whimper as he lifts his foot a bit more, roughly pressing it into your cunt. You keep on rubbing your clit, quickly building up your orgasm. Your squeeze on his calf tightens as your pussy begins clenching around nothing, a warm heat spreading inside your lower tummy. Chuuya's gaze is heavy and he isn't looking away, completely focusing on you. You keep letting out softer whimpers as your thighs begin to weaken, first waves of orgasm tingling inside your lower tummy.

You are so desperate to cum; you can feel the precum sliding down your pussy and tickling your inner lips. You let out a bit of a sharper moan as you feel your orgasm fully on the edge. Your body is tense, besides your hips that keep rolling in and out, twitching more and more. Just as you are about to reach your release, Chuuya slides his foot away making your hips drop. You drop on the ground and the first thing that comes out of your mouth is desperation.

"Fine! I get it! I am sorry, please let me cum!" you say in a quick and defeated tone. Chuuya almost laughs.

"I have never gotten a worse apology...or begging." he says as he raises his eyebrow.

"...I wasn't begging." you say quietly. You feel a bit prideful, but you feel your pussy tingle with a need for release.

"...Fine..I am sorry for...flirting with that person and calling them a sweetheart, I will never do it again!" you close your eyes as you apologize, unable to look at him.

"I am sorry for calling you an asshole..and for telling you to fuck yourself." you say a bit quieter, looking to the side.

"And?" he asks, obviously amused by your state.

"...And...you are the only one for me, I truly had no intentions of hurting you or anything like that..it was just a stupid way for me to get a reaction out of you. I am really sorry." you say in a softer tone as you finally look at him.

"Happy?" you cross your arms as you look to the side again.

"Not quite." he says as he moves the chair back, taking your forearm and pulling you towards him. You uncross your arms and finally stand up, your legs feeling sore. He gently lifts you up, holding you beneath your thighs and places you on the table.

"There is still some frustration I have to deal with, partly because of the work and mostly because of you." he says in a lower tone as he spreads your legs with his hands.

"But I apologized." you say slightly confused.

"You did, but that asshole, "makes it easier to come to work, blah blah", didn't." he imitates the coworker and it makes you chuckle a little bit.

"And I would rather take it out on you." his tone switches to a lickerish one that sends a quick knot inside your tummy. He gently kisses the side of your neck as he slowly pumps his cock couple of times. He lifts up your skirt and his fingers slide your panties to the side as he aligns his tip with your inner lips, quickly sliding his cock in with one fast thrust. Both of you gasp in as he picks up the pace, his hands resting on top of your thighs. He thrusts quickly, not giving a single break to your g-spot.

"Try to keep quiet, even though I doubt you will be able to." he teases, slightly breathless as his whimpers follow quickly. You narrow your eyebrows, wanting to protest but all that comes out of your mouth are soft moans. You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs too weak to move. His skin is slapping yours, producing loud and wet sounds as his pace remains relentless. Chuuya's whimpers turn into softer groans each time his cock reaches the deepest spot inside of you. You feel lightheaded and blissful as all of your sweet spots get stimulated, especially when your most sensitive one gets pressured. You let out louder moans, your breath cutting shorter and shorter as he keeps pounding into you. He presses his lips against yours, muffling the sounds. You part your lips and his tongue finds yours quickly, the two of you panting inside each other's mouth.

You move one of your hands and slide your fingers beneath his choker, pulling him closer as the pleasure gets too good. Chuuya swiftly extends his thumb, finding your clit and begins making slow circles on it, complimenting and toning down the vigorous pace of his hips. You gasp out as your tummy twirls with heat, finding strength to squeeze his hips with your thighs. You slowly pull away from the kiss, swallowing quickly as your moans get louder. Chuuya narrows his hips a little bit, reaching even deeper as he does so. You choke out a sharp whine as the sensations get overwhelming, your orgasm coming in prolonged, warm waves.

You slide your fingers out of the grip of Chuuya's choker and neck, gripping on his messed up shirt. His cock starts twitching inside of you as your pussy pulsates and warms up around him, your climax closer. Each time his cock twitches it sends a jolting sensation through your tummy and chest as it pressures your sensitive spot. Your tummy warms up even more, the heat reaching your neck and cheeks as Chuuya keeps circling his thumb on your clit as well as the merciless pace of his hips. Little gasps escape your throat, merging with Chuuya guttural groans.

Your release is on its brink, making your body shake and become weak. With a few more gentle circles and heavy, deep thrusts you finally reach your climax, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Your heavy panting, gasping and moaning drowns out Chuuya's grunts and whimpers. Your legs become weak, falling off of Chuuya's hips as your orgasm reaches its peak. His pace becomes messier as he moves his thumb away from your clit, closer to his own release. His groans and whimpers turn into heavy panting as he places his hands on your hips, squeezing them tightly. He puts his head close to your neck, leaning his cheek on yours and letting his warm, quick breath spread on your ear. It makes your pussy clench around him a couple of times and he lets out a loud gasp, twitching inside of you.

He bites into your neck as he finally reaches his orgasm, releasing a few thicker ropes of cum inside of you. The sensation sends tingles up your spine as your legs shiver, a soft moan slipping past your lips. He slows down his pace, making one last deep thrust and staying like that for a few moments. He slowly lets go of your neck, placing a soft kiss on your lips with his trembling ones. Your breathing calms down and he shakily pulls out, trying not to make a mess. You feel shaky yourself as you slowly get off of the table. As you adjust your skirt and panties, you finally speak up.

"For what it's worth, seeing you here makes coming to work easier." you say with a soft smile. Chuuya stops adjusting his pants as he looks at you with a confused and unimpressed gaze.

"We literally live together." he deadpans as he zips his pants.

"Oh." you say slightly surprised, nodding to yourself.

"And it takes five hours to drag your ass out of bed." he continues in a more playful tone.

"Hey! That's only because you-" he cuts you off with a quick kiss.

"I know you enjoy seeing me here, but get back to work before we get fired or worse." he says a bit teasingly as he hands you the papers.

"But-"

"Goodbye sweetheart, I love you." he winks as he places a kiss on your cheek as he quickly leaves the office.

You will definitely get him back for this once you come home.

The End :) <3

I hope you liked it and enjoyed it! :D <3

Thank you so much for all the love and support, it means a lot to me! :) <3

Forehead kisses for everyone :3

tags: @r-e-m-i <3 @sukiischaotic <3

#chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader smut #chuuya x reader smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya bsd #chuuya smut #bsd imagines #bsd fic #bsd smut #bsd chuuya #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you

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scenteddelusion5 · 2 months

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Hi, can I request a platonic Rosie(or several overlords if that’s okay) with a Female reader who’s a teenager overlord who accidentally became an overlord?

The Overlord of Disasters

Fem teenage reader x platonic Rosie (and other overlords)

This got way too long so I tried to shorten it, hope you still enjoy it.

Word count: 2886

Note: I actually am working on a young adult/teenager oc that has the powers to become an overlord, so the fact that this is my first request is very funny. When I've finished her design, I'll write about her. But for now, here is the story of Y/n the overlord of disasters.

Y\n had to admit that she wasn't the nicest person but she never expected to end up in hell. HELL, like yess she was a bit of a troubled teen... she was a petty thief, yess, but some of her peers were much worse. Besides, she was only fifteen when she died. She never had the chance to do better. That should've given her at least some leeway? Right?? RIGHT???

But no, she ended up in hell.

When Y/n first arrived, she roamed the dangerous streets looking for shelter. Her face and slim goat-like stature was hidden by a torn cloak. She tried to be inconspicuous, discreet, low-key but she overlooked one thing... Our Y/n was ridiculously clumsy. So when she tripped over her own foot, her arm bumped into the light pole causing it to fall over onto a postal van. That in turn caused all the letters to fly out on the street. Some of the papers got carried up by the wind, eventually getting stuck onto the cord of a power pylon. Then there was fire, which spread onto a building...

Everyone's eyes were focused on her, including a set of hollow eye socket. It didn't take long for the demons that lived in the now burning building to storm her.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!" One incredibly tall shark demon took the lead. "I'm going to rip fucking longs out of your chest and feed it to those CANIBAL FREAKS!!!"

At first Rosie didn't want to intervene. It really wasn't her style to get involved into random street fights, even though she found Y/n's disastrous display hilarious. But now that the loan shark insulted her people, she felt it was her duty to step in.

"Gentlemen, whatever might be the problem?" Rosie stepped in between you and the threatening hoard and flashed her sharp teeth to them. "You aren't bullying this poor newcomer, right?"

"Uhm, n-no miss, uhm Rosie. We're sorry." Before Rosie could open her mouth again, they ran back into the still burning building.

The overlord then turned to you. "Now darling, I take it you don't have a place to stay?"

Y/n shook her head.

"Then you can stay with me. I'm quite the powerful demon."

From that day on Y/n stayed with Rosie. During the years of living together, the two grew quite close. The overlord took over a motherly role for the teen. Everyone in cannibal town loved the unofficially adopted daughter of Rosie, they were even willing to put up with Y/n's clumsy nature.

Rosie truly loved her and when Y/n accidentally called her mom while helping out in the store, she was the happiest demoness in all of hell.

From that day on Rosie introduced Y/n as her daughter to anyone and everyone, even some of her fellow overlords.

Alastor and Y/n had met many times and often had tea together. The man often joked about how it's never boring with her. She had also met Zestial and Camilla a few times, but she wasn't as close with them as Alastor and Rosie.

One day Y/n had to make a trip to the Doomsday district. Rosie had, reluctingly, sent you to deliver a dress to a customer. She was all alone, her hand rested on the angelic steel knife on her belt. Rosie had given it to her so she could protect herself, just in case. Most people knew you were close to several overlords but you could never be more careful, especially Y/n.

Y/n was repeating her 'safety protocol' in her head.

Stay away from the walls

stay away from the poles

stay away from the demons

Stay away from the fire

Look where you step

Hold th-

She walked into something and fall back on her but. Looking up was a demon she recognized... An overlord, he was in charge of the Doomsday district.

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!!!" This situation seemed awfully familiar.

Y/n clenched her shirt. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to."

"I DON'T CARE!!!"

The demon was menacingly towering over her. She crawled back and pulled herself up. Seeing as this wasn't going to be resolved with a pleasant conversation over tea, Y/n pulled out her knife. Her arms were shaking and the knife felt heavy in her hands.

"What do you think that toothpick is going to do?" He stepped forward and you stepped back. On and on until she hit the wall... OH no... she hit the wall...

Her elbow hit the random waterpipe on the side of the building and broke it. Water spewed out right into the overlord's face. The demon fell back. The water had landed on the street, causing a car to slip and running over the overlord and crashing into the wall. This in turn caused the satellite aerial to fall down and slightly bumped your back. The knife shot out of your hand right into overlord. The aerial send out a weird frequency.

"Spare me... Please..." The overlord gasped out.

Y/n was still shaken up. "What?... Uhm I don't plan on killing you." her voice sounded unsure, which the overlord took way different than you meant.

"Please!" He wailed. "I'm begging you... You can have all my souls, just please."

"I don't uhm..."

"PLEASE!!! TAKE THEM!!!"

"... Sure...??" She said very confused. "I'll take them." The two shook hands and immediately, Y/n could feel the pure power flowing through her veins. "Alright... Bye now?" As she stepped away a shadow covered the overlord. Before Y/n could look up a piano hit the demon, pushing the knife deeper in effectively killing him.

What the fuck just happened?

Everything was quiet. All eyes were on her, again... As always, only this time, she doubted she would be saved this time. She was prepared to be killed again... Only nobody did anything, no demons threatening to kill her, no stray bullets that got way to close to her head, not even another butterfly effect disaster... The demons around just stared.

One small demon with black eyes walked up to you... "What are you going to do to us?"

"What...?"

"What are you going to do to us?" He repeated. "You are the new overlord of the Doomsday district, you own our souls."

"I... I don't." She awkwardly grabbed at her sleeves. "I'm not an overlord."

"Yes, you are. You defeated the previous overlord of doom, took over his souls and territory, you became an overlord." Y/n stayed silent at this. "How about we talk in private?" He took her into a smaller building nearby, away from all prying eyes. "Let's start over. I'm Piper. You own my soul." The small demon introduced himself.

"Uhm... Y/n, and I'm no overlord. Overlords are like scary, like WHA!" She made grabby gestures with her hands. "And BOE! I'm anything but that."

Piper looked at her like she had just grown another head. "How about this? I'll keep your territory in control while you think this over a bit? And in turn, you'll keep me in high up in the social latter here."

Her mouth was dry. "... Deal..?" She was so confused.

From that day on Piper took care of the Doomsday district for her. Y/n never went to Rosie about this. She always wanted to keep her daughter safe and would be so mad to find out she got into trouble again... At least that's what Y/n convinced herself.

Even though Piper took care of most of the problems in the Doomsday district, word got around of the new overlord of disasters; a terrifying force of nature that shouldn't be reckoned with. So of course there were demons that wanted to challenge her. Every other day y/n needed to sneak out of Cannibal town to 'fight' these challengers. See 'fight' as in accidentally defeating them.

Y/n was filing her bag with a cloak and a mask she picked up to hide her identity when a knock came from her door.

"Y/n darling! It's me and Alastor." Rosie opened the door and summoned a table. "Please sit down, we want to talk to you."

She sat down in the Victorian style chair, but not before stumbling a bit.

"Little lamb, your mother is worried about you." Alastor broke the silence.

"Deary, you've been sneaking out a lot and staying away for longer and longer and when you come home you're exhausted-" Rosie took a deep breath "- what I'm trying to say is that you can talk to me if something's wrong... You know that right?" Her cheeks were droopy, a frown plastered on her porcelain face, it made Y/n's stomach turn.

"I'm fine, mom. There is no need to worry about me." She lied.

Alastor's eyebrows down, almost like he wanted to frown, but he still had that giant smile on his face. "Are you sure? If somebody is bothering you, we don't mind serving them for tonight's dinner. Hahaha." He joked, underneath, however, he was nervous. The Radio demon had grown quite fond of her and, knowing how clumsy she could be, he couldn't help but worry.

"No, one is bothering me... Thank you for offering though." At this point, Y/n had grown used to the cannibalistic tendencies of the people around her and so shrugged Alastor's joke off.

Rosie had a bad feeling about this. "Can you at least tell us where you've been sneaking of to?"

Shit

Y/n didn't have excuse for this. "J-just some friends... I.. I didn't want them to be scared off, so I didn't tell them about you. I'm sorry mom." Tears filled her eyes, she didn't want to lie to her. Rosie had done so much for her... She was planning on giving this whole being an overlord up anyway, there was no reason for Y/n to tell the truth now. It'll be like it never happened and then she can go back to her normal life with her mom.

Rosie stared into her cup. "Alright deary, but please make sure to be careful. Genuine friends are rare in hell."

"Thanks mom." Y/n stood up again and left the imperium, through the front door this time.

Alastor squinted his eyes, following your silhouette. Something was wrong, you were lying. He could feel it... But this was Rosie's responsibility, so he should leave it up to her. "She is lying."

"I know but if she isn't ready to talk about it, then I'll wait."

"On a different note, did you hear that the Doomsday district has a new overlord." Alastor took a sip from his 'Oh, Deer' mug. "They've been defeating demon after demon. I've been meaning to meet them for my radio show, would you like to come with me?"

Y/n was walking down the street to the Doomsday district. I should've just told Rosie the truth. She thought. But she had panicked and lied, only making it harder for herself.

Stepping into the same, small building where Piper first dragged her off too, Y/n put on her overlord disguise.

"You didn't break anything, right?" Piper asked, dressed in a brand-new suit. "I don't want to fix the sewerage again."

"It went fine!" She put up her thumb, before knocking over a chair that landed on a vase, breaking it in two thousant pieces. "Sorry."

Y/n and Piper walked around the district for a while, more so to let the demons know that the overlord of disaster was still around and that they were close with Piper. She caused chain reactions all around her, letting people know she got her title for a reason... Not her fault the denizens of hell took it the wrong way.

The two were rounding the corner when a familiar set came into view... What were Rosie and Alastor doing here? Y/n's panic only grew once she realised Alastar was trying to get her attention. Did they recognize her? What was happening?

As the two overlords came closer and closer, Y/n ducked into an alleyway and seemingly disappeared~

The dumpster wasn't Y/n's first choice of hiding place but it was the only one she had.

Piper was left alone on the burning streets with two dangerous overlords heading straight for him.

"Where did she go?" The woman, who Piper recognized to be the cannibal overlord, asked. "I swore she was just here."

"And what relation do you have with this new overlord, my incredibly short fellow." The second man Piper knew all too well. The terrifying Radio demon. "I was hoping to speak to her."

"Ah, I- I'm incredibly sorry... B-but the disaster overlord doesn't like dealing with overlord stuff, so she makes me represent." Piper sputtered.

"I see, but you see I want to speak to the REAL overlord. Not some pathetic representative." Dials appeared in Alastor's eyes and strange symbols started floating around. "GOT THAT."

"YES!"

"Lovely, then you can set up an audience for me. How does Friday sound?"

"Perfect, Friday at 5 p.m."

"Great, I can't wait to meet her." The two overlords went on their merry way again through the streets of Doomsday district.

Friday came around and nothing. Alastor had waited for twenty minutes, yet there was no sight of the disaster demon or her little pet. This was rich, never before was the overlord stood up like this. Who would dare to waste his time?! Alastor's stature as well as his antlers grew. That day there was a very horrifying broadcast and Y/n was at home with Rosie. She had to admit she almost peed her pants when Alastor openly threatened her on the radio broadcast...

There was no way she could come clean now. From that day on, you didn't show your overlord self once. Always letting Piper deal with everything.

That was until he came running to you, a letter in hand. It was an invitation to an overlord meeting, one she wouldn't be allowed to send Piper to. At first she didn't want to go, but Piper thought that would be a surefire way to piss off even more overlords. She had to go.

That's how she ended up, dressed in her cloak and mask, in front of an office building in Carmilla's circle of the pentagram. Stepping into the building the place was quiet, no one was around... Was this a trap? Y/n continued on the conference room, although more cautious. Room 666.

Everyone was already there. Were you supposed to come early?

"Disaster demon, glad you could join us." Carmilla spoke first. "We weren't sure you would show up anymore."

Y/n kind of shrugged trying her best to hide her voice.

"How rude, this new generation of overlords ought to know their place. Don't you think so Zestial?" Alastor commented half-jokingly.

"Yes, I must agree." The oldest overlord answered.

You wobbly sat down in your seat, but in doing so breaking the seat. A metal leg shot out to Vox, who protected himself. It ricocheted to the chandelier, which luckily kept hanging. Unluckily though, one of the more heavy ornaments fell down onto the table. It broke in two.

With each sound and broken item, Y/n hugged herself more and more until she resembled more of an hedgehog than a goat. She felt incredibly awkward, tears came out of her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I'M SORRY!!!! YOU ALMOST BROKE MY SCREEN AND DESTROYED THE CONFERENCE ROOM AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS SORRY?!!!" Vox screamed, he was about to launch over the broken table but Alastor stopped him.

"Not a step closer my pal." Alastar's horns grew, showing that he was serious in protecting the newest overlord.

"There is only one demon in the entire universe who could create such a mess." Rosie spoke to herself. "Y/n is that you?" Rosie almost couldn't keep herself from smirking when she removed her mask.

"Yes... I-"

"Alright, everyone out this meeting is over!" Carmilla said. The demons left but only with some push. "Not you three."

They were all looking at you, Carmilla, Zestial, Alastor and Rosie, waiting for an explanation.

"Be- Before you get mad at me, this was an accident."

"I'm not mad about my conference room, now explain." Carmilla's eyes stayed focused on her, like lion waiting for its prey.

"I don't just mean the conference room, this was an accident." Y/n points to herself. "I didn't mean to become an overlord. It just kind of happened and I thought you would be mad at me and then I dug myself into a deeper hole, and now I'm here dressed like this embarrasing myself in front of everyone." The tears that had been slowly building up, started flowing.

"Oh deary." Rosie stood up and gave you a big hug. "I could never be mad at you. I just wish you would've told me. We can work this out together, besides this means you have the power to protect yourself. You don't know how worried I was if you would ever find yourself in a sticky situation alone."

"Thanks mom." Y/n hugged her back.

"If I may interrupted your lovely bonding time, but how exactly did you 'accidentally' defeat the previous overlord?" Alastor asked.

"Oh, I didn't defeat him." She explained. "He got runover by a car, then he decided to give me all his souls and a piano dropped on him."

"Excuse me?"

Masterlist/request guidlines

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie x reader #Rosie x you #x reader #reader insert #child reader

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its-time-to-write · 6 months

Note

hi sweetheart! i was wondering if you could do a jamie imagine where the reader is a physical therapist and he’s always finding the most ridiculous excuses to go see her, like getting a paper cut and things like that. i would also love if it could be before they got together :)

it’s okay if you don’t want to do it or already did it and i didn’t see it. thank you anyway, you’re one of my favorite writers here on tumblr 🩵

you called me sweetheart, so now I would die for you. pet names are the way to my heart, in case u didn’t know. hope u enjoy🍊

(important disclaimer, I don’t know how physical therapy works so if I’m wrong about things, remember this isn’t a medical journal, I am just a girl)

before you go

Apparently, it’s impossible to purposely give yourself a paper cut, but Jamie Tartt has been doing his damnedest all day to get some kind of ailment, so if that means being careless with some photographs in his locker then so be it.

He really wishes his leg would cramp or something, but Will’s been keeping him far too hydrated for that.

So Jamie has to settle for slipping a picture of his mum at just the right angle to draw blood.

“Shit,” he whispers softly. He puts his finger to his mouth to catch the first beads of blood.

“Paper cut?” Sam asks sympathetically. Jamie nods, finger in between his teeth.

“Ay, sí, you should go see the physio for that one, amigo. Ask for the Rojas special,” Dani says with his ever-present grin.

“It’s just a paper cut, mate,” Jamie says in order to keep up appearances.

Sam knocks his arm. “You have to go. Dani only just let me request the Rojas special last week, and Richard still won’t talk to me about it.”

“Ça c’est merde,” Richard calls from across the locker room. “Put on a bandage and go home.”

Jamie won’t. He sticks his tongue out at Richard and turns to go to the treatment room because he needs treatment right away. Never mind that it’s a cut and not a muscle injury. He can hide under the excuse that Dani sent him.

Jamie taps on the door and pushes it open to find you sitting on the table, absentmindedly tapping your fingers on your knees. You jump down at the sight of Jamie.

“Hi! I was wondering if anybody’d be over today,” you grin. “Where does it hurt?”

Jamie holds up his finger. “Dani sent me.”

“Ah, right,” you nod, grin never leaving your face. Jamie wonders if your sunny disposition is why you and Dani are such good friends. Suddenly, he’s gripped by uncertainty. Maybe you and Dani are morethan good friends. After all, Dani is strangely tight-lipped about his affairs and besides, it’s not good for the physio to be openly screwing a player.

Maybe he should go.

But you’ve already come back to him after rummaging in a cupboard, small box in hand.

“Technically, this isn’t part of my job,” you say as you select a band-aid, “but I’ve been doing this since I started going to my nephew’s footie matches. Kid’s almost ten now, but he still asks for me every time he gets a scrape. First time I was here it was like, force of habit, but Dani said it reminded him of his sister, so…” you trail off. “I dunno, it’s funny that even big strong footballers still want silly bandages, yeah?”

Jamie watches as you open a green bandage with yellow flowers and wrap it carefully around his finger. You press a kiss to it and smile up at him. “There. All better.”

Jamie is… well, he’s flustered. He’s heard about the so-called Rojas special and how it’s available through recommendation only, but he wasn’t prepared for the sweet way you cradled his hand or the fact that your lips touched him. In fact, he wasn’t prepared for anything beyond a bandage and the fact that you slipped sweets to Sam and Dani to numb the sting of injury.

“Thanks,” he chokes out, aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand. You give it one last squeeze before dropping it.

“See you around,” you say.

Jamie mumbles something unintelligible and finds his way out the door.

“Fuck you,” he says to Sam as soon as he catches him in the car park.

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t get a chocolate. Did you not hold still?”

“I- you- it- fuck you,” Jamie says again. “You fucking knew.”

“Knew what?” Dani asks. He’s a horrible liar.

“You knew I thought she was fit. You didn’t tell me she’s, like, emotionally fit as well. So fuck you both for that.”

Sam mouths emotionally fit as he and Dani dissolve into laughter.

“Which band aid did you get?” Dani asks when he finally regains control of himself. “She ran out of Peppa Pig last week, but she promised to get some more soon.”

Jamie holds up his finger, wishing the cut were on the middle one.

Sam and Dani lean into inspect it and nod once.

“Well?” Jamie demands. They just look at him with stupid grins.

“Good night, Jamie Tartt,” Dani says, opening Sam’s passenger seat door.

“Good night, Jamie,” Sam echoes.

The fuckers just leave him standing in the lot, heart racing like a fucking idiot.

—

Jamie’s ankle is barely twisted. Like, barely. But he grew up watching football so he knows how make an injury seem worse than it is. He’s mastered the art of not going overboard.

“You should see the physio,” Beard tells him. Jamie pretends to protest a little bit, ignoring the way Ted shoots Dani and Sam quizzical looks. They’re making some sort of face and Jamie’s not going to figure out what they mean because he doesn’t care.

(Or maybe he already knows what they mean. But he doesn’t give a shit.)

So he hobbles his way to the treatment room where you’re typing something on the computer. Reports, probably.

You look up with a smile when you see him, the quickly school it into a frown. “Where does it hurt?” you ask.

“My ankle,” Jamie grimaces.

You pat the table and he obliges, sitting down on the crinkly paper.

You squat to undo his boot and Jamie realizes that maybe this isn’t the best way to get you to fall for him but it’s too late now because you’re gingerly sliding it off his foot.

“D’you mind if I get the sock as well?” you ask, and it’s all Jamie can do to mutely shake his head. You lightly run a cool hand over his ankle.

“Feels a bit swollen,” you say. “What happened?”

Jamie has to gather his thoughts firmly away from the way he could feel the callouses on your palm. “Tackle,” he says.

“Hm,” you reply. “Does this hurt?”

Jamie gasps as you press your thumb at just the wrong spot.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say. “Lie down. I’m going to massage it for a minute then put it on ice. You’ll be good to go in an hour.”

Jamie obeys, trying to ignore the way his breath hitches when your hand squeezes his calf for a fraction of a second.

You’re able to find all the right spots, gently pushing the muscle back where it needs to go. You pat his foot gently and go to get an ice pack. “Keep this on for fifteen minutes, off for five, then on for another fifteen. If it still hurts I’ll get you another pack, or maybe a heating pad. Depends on what type of pain you have, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“You sending me back?” Jamie asks in a feeble attempt to be his usual confident self.

You hesitate. “I mean… the other option is you stay here. I won’t lie to you, it’s pretty quiet back here but it doesn’t smell. Will got me on these scent diffuser packs, so this is one of the least-gross rooms on the lower level. I usually just type reports, but I’ve finished for now so I was going to read but we can chat if you like. You don’t have to, but I can monitor your ankle for the next hour if you’re here. It’s up to you.”

Stay and flirt with the pretty physio or sit on the bench instead of practicing?

Jamie positions himself better on the table. “What’s your book about?”

—

Jamie wishes that he were just making an excuse to come see you, but if that were the case he’d have made sure to be showered. Instead, he’s fresh off the pitch after a long day of practice and he needs his joints like, replaced or some shit.

He stumbles into the treatment room and practically flops facedown on the table. You’re up in an instant, combing his hair away from his face with your fingers.

“Where does it hurt?” you ask, voice filled with concern.

“Everywhere,” Jamie groans.

“Okay, so full-massage with the extra-large ice pack at the end, then,” you say.

Jamie just grunts in response and tries not to think about the fact that this is the most unromantic way he’s ever tried to date a girl. He tells himself that you’re a physio, that you’ve seen grosser, and that you’re not even interested in him anyway. It still doesn’t stop him from asking about your day and cracking stupid jokes the entire time you’re popping his muscles. His voice squeaks every time you forcibly release tension, but you just laugh and tell him, “You should hear Isaac.” So yeah, the worst training of his life has now turned out to be a goddamned blessing in disguise because you’re joking back and forth for a solid twenty minutes.

“Come back any time,” you tell him with a wink as he heads out the door. “You don’t have to be injured to say hey.”

Jamie smiles at that, and goes to tell Sam and Dani that they’re shitheads but he loves them very much.

—

It’s been a long week and an especially long match, but thank fuck it’s over. There’s a bit of an ache in his legs but he doesn’t give a flying shit. They’ve won, for once, so as a reward to himself he’s going to invite you out with the lads. Proper, like, probably with the words, “Hey I think you’re fit,” except he’s thinking he should probably swap “fit,” for beautiful, or stunning, or the most wonderful, funny, amazing woman he’s ever met and no, it’s not just because of the magical healing powers you seem to possess.

Jamie showers, changes, then heads purposefully down the hall. He knows you’re still here, you never leave after matches until everyone who might possibly need physio is gone.

He bangs open the door, ready to regale you with the shit Ted’s up to post-match when he catches sight of your face. Or rather, the fact that it’s in your hands as your shoulders shake.

He rushes over to the desk and turns your chair so you’re facing him.

His hands are on your knees as he urgently whispers, “Where does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t,” you gasp, wiping your eyes. “I’m fine, I don’t know what came over me, I’m good, I promise. What’s up?”

You move to get up but Jamie presses lightly where his hands were resting. “You don’t look fine, love,” he says, then internally winces. Not a good thing to say to a girl, no matter how true it is.

“I’m good, swear down,” you choke. You move to wipe away another tear but Jamie beats you to it, swiping it with his thumb. You shudder involuntarily, trying not to notice the rough feel of his skin on yours.

“I’m not hurt,” he says tentatively. “Came to see if you wanted to go out with me ‘n the lads.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, still trying your absolute best to pull yourself together and failing miserably. “Right. I um, I’m going to be here a while so you should just go, yeah? Tell Dani I’m proud of him.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Ain’t leaving you here all by yourself.” He realizes your hands have found their way into his, and he has no idea who put them there. He lifts one to his lips and brushes a kiss to your knuckles. “Just tell me where it hurts, yeah?”

Another shiver wracks your body. “You can’t- I can’t- you have to go, okay Jamie? I need you to go.”

Jamie will, he’ll do anything you ask, but first he has to know-

“Why?” he asks, so softly. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“Don’t-” you half-choke. “Not- I’m gross right now.”

Jamie can’t stifle his laugh in time, so he does his best to save it. “Love, you’ve seen me at my fuckin’ worst. We’ll call it even.”

You’re breathing a little easier now, but just barely. You don’t seem too eager to get rid of him so Jamie pushes his luck and stays kneeling on the floor.

“Tell me,” he urges again, but you just shake your head.

“You really should go,” you say, breath catching in your throat. “You don’t want to keep Maia waiting. Heard actresses are notoriously particular about being on time.”

That’s confusing. Maia- do you mean Maia Stanwood? You must, that’s the only Maia he knows. But how did you know her, Jamie had run into her at dinner the other day and there’d been a brief article in the papers, but nothing that connects to what’s happening here.

Unless-

No.

Except- it’s the only thing that makes sense.

But you don’t like him like that. At least, he’s pretty sure. And anyway, isn’t it prickish to assume everyone’s in love with him?

But you’re not everyone, you’re the team physio with nice hands and a sweet smile and an affinity to fix people, to mend what’s broken in the best way you know how.

“I love you,” he says instead of everything else he had planned.

You’re silent, and he’s not sure you’ve heard him so he says it again.

“Yeah, alright, I love you too,” you sniff with a half-smile, except it’s the way you’d say to a brother, the way you’d say it to Dani or Sam.

“No,” Jamie says more insistently, “I love you. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to tell you, wanted to take you out proper. Impress you with my dancing and chat you up at the bar. Make the lads jealous that I’ve got a beautiful girl on my arm, then sneak out early to kiss you like I’ve been fucking thinking about since that fucking paper cut. Had a right crush on you like an idiot since you got hired.”

You’re staring at him open-mouthed, unable to believe what he’s saying, and Jamie doesn’t know much all the time but he knows that you’re gripping his hands like it’s a lifeline. He knows your eyes are wide open and that he was on the mark about you thinking he was with someone else. So he does what anyone in his position would do.

He captures your lips in his, letting go of your hands only so he can slip one hand around your waist and another in your hair.

God, you feel like you’re melting.

Jamie Tartt is kissing you like there’s no tomorrow and the floor is tipping out from under you, but apart from that vague feeling all you’re aware of is his hands on you and the fact that he tastes like spearmint.

His lips are soft against yours, mouth warm and inviting.

It’s like taking a breath of air for the first time in months.

“I love you,” you say as soon as you break apart. You’re breathing heavily as if you’re the one who just played a 90-minute match. Jamie’s lips are swollen and your hair is mussed, but you both share the same look.

“All better?” he asks, and you nod.

“Good. You want to get dinner? I know a few places we can go, don’t have to worry about paps.”

“The team-” you begin, but Jamie waves that away.

“They’ll understand,” he says. “Been flirting with you for ages, getting injured all the time. Think Ted’s starting to get fucking worried.”

You run your thumb down his jawline. “I always wondered about that,” you murmur. “Thought it was in my head how much you were down here. Didn’t want to be unprofessional.”

Jamie reaches up to hold your wrist and you just sit there, on the floor of the treatment room, looking at each other in the dim light. You’ll get up, eventually, but for now you’re going to savor this moment you have together.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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arafilez · 3 months

Text

☆ ⼂ PUNCH THE WALL ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤangst, estb. relationship ㅤ warnings arguing, moderate cursing, and anxiety attack ㅤ﹢ㅤ0.2k per member wc ㅤㅤ pt 2 here ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ og request ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤOMG YOU TAKE REQUESTS YESSS OKAY how about skz reaction to their s/o punching the wall (and immediately regret it)in the heat of an argument - anon

◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›

“Let’s sit down, and talk this out properly,” Chan says getting tired of the argument with each passing second. It is tiring how you are bringing up every small topic just for the sake of arguing.

His eyes widen the moment your fist lands on the wall and cringes at how you instantly wince from the pain. He remains still, watching your breath become more even.

You stare at your palm in shock not realising why you did it anyway. You are not that type of person at all.

“There are better ways of subsiding your anger,” Chan speaks up, slowly taking your hands in his and inspecting your knuckles. “Let’s get you a painkiller,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and you nod looking down.

“I don’t know why I did that,” you stutter out barely and he smiles handing you the tablet and shrugs saying, “Anger is a strong and restless emotion, it is important to learn how to control it. For example, you can tear up some paper into small pieces and make sure all pieces are small.”

“I will work on it,” you smile lightly and he nods encouragingly, “I know you will, darling.”

◗ ៹ LEE KNOW ›

You can’t do this anymore, if he retaliates one more time you might just punch the wall. Minho’s words pass by your ear and you feel a quick blood rush and punch the wall behind you.

The pain takes over immediately as you press your hands to your mouth as a whimper passes out of your throat. You can’t believe you just punched a wall. You never do that.

You hear Minho’s footstep coming towards you and he holds your hand inspecting your knuckles quietly. You keep your head down, ashamed, knowing you have crossed a line while he makes you sit on the couch. Taking out the first aid kit, he slowly dabs an ointment around your bruised knuckles. You watch him carefully and let out a quiet sigh before looking up at him.

“Don’t apologise, you gave yourself enough punishment,” he chuckles and continues, “Things like these happen. Doesn’t mean you are a toxic partner.”

“Thank you,” you reply, a sob choking your throat, “for everything.” You let out a weak smile and he smiles back lightly pecking your lips to cheer you up.

◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›

The picture frames rattle loudly as your fist lands on the wall and suddenly the room becomes quiet. The tension is thick as you open your fist and your hand rests where you have just punched while Changbin stands in a distance.

You are not this kind of a partner, you never are. Then why did you do that?

“You will beat me in punches in a gym,” Changbin’s voice enters your ear and you look at him mouthing, “Sorry.” He walks towards you and slowly takes your fists in his hand and continues, “Come on that one was funny.”

“Changbin I am so sorry,” you start crying, over sensitive from all your emotions and frustrations and the way you just expressed it. He holds you close and then hugs you till your sobs subside and turn into small whimpers against his neck.

“We all have bad days,” he whispers and continues, “But next time talk to me, don’t keep it to yourself.” You nod rapidly hugging him tighter, the regret now slowly being pushed to the back of your mind at his comfort.

◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›

You give one last look to Hyunjin before your fist hits the wall in anger and you pant in rage. Regret takes over your feature almost immediately and you turn around to look Hyunjin frozen in his place and his eyes widening in shock and fear. Your resolve falters in a fraction of a second and you take a step towards Hyunjin.

“Hyun I swear-“ you start only for him to harshly cut you off, “Save it.” You slap your hand over your mouth to stop a sob escaping your mouth. You can’t believe what you did, this is not you.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Hyunjin exclaims and you open your mouth trying to explain yourself but he stops you telling, “Apply some meds and we will talk when you are calmer.” Saying that he leaves the room, making you rethink your decisions again and again.

◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›

Jisung’s breath fell short and the room felt like spinning as soon as he sees you punch the wall. He gasps loudly, holding the table near him and his vision starts to blur. He can feel the anxiety attack coming and he can do nothing about it.

You regret as soon as you did it but looking at Jisung the feeling worsens and you run to him. You hold him in your arms and whisper out, “I am so sorry baby.” You walk him slowly to the couch and he slumps down, gripping the couch handle rather strongly and you wince. Slowly unwrapping his fingers you hold them and look him in the eye.

“It’s me and I am sorry,” you whisper and hand him the water bottle as he shakily takes a sip from it. Panting slowly his vision clears and he finally sees your tear-stricken eyes and hugs you as you repeatedly say ‘sorry’ over and over again.

You love him so much, hand you wish he can forgive you which unknowingly maybe he did.

◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›

Imagine you are minho 😭

“Oh shit,” you curse loudly at the wincing pain in your knuckles as you punch the wall and Felix’s eyes widen but he doesn’t move from his place. You hold your fist and press your lips together but the whimper doesn’t go unnoticed by Felix who grabs a painkiller and a bottle of water.

“I didn’t mean to-“ you start but your boyfriend cuts you off saying, “Sit down.”

“Okay,” you oblige and he hands you the water bottle which you gladly take sipping on it lightly. His eyes scan your feature full of remorse and he rubs his hands over your knees whispering, “Relax, it’s alright.”

“It’s not and you know it,” you choke out and look away unable to look at his kind eyes. “Let’s talk about it, yeah?” he proposes and you nod smiling lightly and his eyes light up at your acceptance.

◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›

“Kim Seungmin,” you snarl at him, “I am warning you.” Seungmin’s indifferent sigh angers you to your last extent and you look at him straight in the eyes and punch the wall beside you. You quickly retreat your hands as soon as you do it, shock and remorse washing over your features.

You look at him and see him stare back at you, mouth parted and eyes holding annoyance as he speaks, “So you talk with your hands now.” You shake your head lightly looking away, ashamed of yourself. A scoff of disbelief leaves his mouth and Seungmin pokes the inside of his cheeks eyeing your figure.

“I am sorry,” a sob escapes your throat as you say it out loud and Seungmin’s features soften for a millisecond before he exhales and says, “We will talk when you are ready.” And not punching walls, he thinks but refrains from saying it out loud and leaves the room while you sit on the floor and a stray tear escapes your eye.

What have you done?

◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›

The pent up frustration about everything in life and Jeongin’s childishness gets the best of you and you punch the wall behind you. Your knuckles make a cracking sound at the force. You immediately get back from your trance and stare at Jeongin who is rooted at his place.

“Jeongin I-“ you try, but your voice falters when you see him take a step back, his hands folded against his body protectively. Hurt crosses over your features and you open your mouth to speak and make him comfortable.

“Just fucking listen-“

“No”

“Innie-“

“I said no,” Jeongin yells at you and a pin drop silence falls around the room.

“Don’t come near me, we will talk later,” Jeongin’s voice held remorse and fear and you exhale slowly nodding at him. You watch him leave and regret takes over your features.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤtysm anon for requesting this, i hope you like it, some of them have open endings and unsolved arguments 'cause i suddenly love writing that lmao. tysm for the people who are reading and the blr notes. ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 20

Part 1 Part 19

Steve’s shirt is wet where Eddie’s face is pushed into it, and Will’s hand is clutching his arm tight enough to hurt. Steve wants to sink into it. But the door's still open, and Wayne’s shotgun is lost in the woods somewhere. He hopes the man won't be too mad.

"Okay, okay," Steve says, taking two shuffling steps forward. "Let go of me."

The arms encircling his waist drop him instantly. His own weight settles back into his heels at the same instant the vertigo hits. A small hand clutches his elbow, keeping him upright with a grunt of strain.

"Shit, Harrington, sorry," Eddie says, voice warbling. "What do you need? What do I do?"

"Just–" he closes his eyes, listing sideways. He's so tired. "The door, Eddie."

The door closes with a quiet creak, lock sliding home with a metallic snick!

It's a tissue paper door, Steve knows it's a tissue paper door, but his legs go out anyway, finally safe enough to drop. Eddie catches him, hands clutching hips as he practically drags him to the couch.

"You're okay," Eddie says. "You're okay, right?"

Steve nods. His forehead lances with pain every time he grimaces, and his cheek throbs. The wound on his shoulder has definitely reopened, and something unpleasant had happened to his ribs when he'd fallen in the woods. But he’s fine.

Will interrupts the conversation by dumping the remains of the Munson's medicine cabinet on the coffee table.

"You're bleeding," he says.

"Shit, right," Eddie replies, rifling through the contents. It's slim pickings, but Eddie plucks up a few bandages and gets to work.

His mouth is a moue of concentration as he combs Steve's hair off his forehead and puts bandages across the entirety of the laceration before blessedly leaving it alone once he reaches the hairline.

Eddie's prodding the bruise on Steve's cheek hard enough to feel the bone, when Will asks, "My Mom?"

"She's fine, Byers." He tries to smile, but loses the will halfway through, closing his eyes.

Will bursts into tears. "Thank you," he says.

Steve flops his hand forward. Will takes it. Steve doesn’t realize how cold his fingers are until Will’s warmth starts leeching into him.

"Your Mom's a badass, baby Byers," Eddie says. "She was always going to be fine."

Steve hums his agreement, too tired to vocalize. There, sitting up on Eddie's ratty couch, covered in dirt and blood, Steve falls asleep with Eddie's palm cupping his cheek and Will’s hand in his.

He's not sure how long he sleeps, but when he awakens, Eddie's sitting with his back to the couch. His hair's plastered to his head with grease and grime, and he's starting to smell a little. Steve wants to cry at the sight of him.

"Eddie?" he asks.

Eddie turns to him, a finger to his lips as he gestures his head toward where Will's sleeping in the recliner across the room.

"Back with me, big boy?" Eddie whispers.

Steve nods. "Did you guys make it out okay?"

Eddie scoffs. "We were fine, man." His eyes well, a few tears running down his cheeks. He swipes them away impatiently. "We thought you were dead."

Steve feels small, his voice comes out even smaller. "I'm sorry."

Eddie turns back around, back pressing into the couch, eyes trained on the door. Steve reaches his fingers out, rubbing back and forth slowly, consolingly. "Thanks for coming back."

Steve's breath hitches. It wasn't a sure thing. The line between Steve coming back and Eddie finding Steve's body decomposing in the Byers' driveway was razor thin. He should know - it's painted along his forehead in claw marks, painted in the way his vision is still a little red with the blood that had dripped into his eyes.

"Anytime," Steve says. Does it count as a lie when he really wants to mean it?

"Good, because we're like, out of water, dude," Eddie laughs. "The kid's the only one smart enough not to forget his backpack.”

"Fuck!" Steve says, a little too loudly. Will stirs, then settles. "Not the quarry again."

Eddie laughs, but not like he thinks it’s funny. “Yeah, man. I’m with ya, but there’s the kid to think about now.”

They both look over at Will. His face is smushed into the back of the chair, knees curled up to his chest beneath the blanket Eddie must’ve given him, like even in sleep, he’s doing everything he can to make himself a smaller target. Something unfamiliar in Steve’s gut wrenches.

He doesn’t want to go back there, maybe ever, but especially not right now. Right now, the thought of crossing the threshold out into the wider world makes ants crawl under his skin.

The Demogorgon’s claws are still parting his skin like butter every time he moves wrong. They’d moved through him as easily as Steve’s Father’s knife had while he’d skinned the deer, Steve standing beside him as he tries his best not to cry.

Steve doesn’t want to be the deer. But the shotgun is gone, and so the hunter must become the hunted.

“I lost the gun,” Steve says.

Eddie’s shoulder slump, Steve’s hand falls, settling in the crack between the couch and the middle of his back, stuck there when Eddie leans back into it. “I figured,” he sighs, sounding disappointed, like maybe there’d still been a glimmer of hope that Steve had just snuffed out.

Silence descends. It feels like the force of gravity kicked up a notch, the way the quiet fogs over him and pushes him down down down. The silence drowns, let’s the Demogorgon prowl through his mind. Eddie Munson throws him a brick disguised as a life preserver.

“I saw your shoulder,” he says, barely audible.

“Oh.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie asks, turning around completely, back to the door. His eyes are wide. Steve can’t read his face at all.

“What’s there to do?”

Eddie sighs. “Nothing, maybe,” he says, spinning his rings on his fingers nervously. “I cleaned it up as best I could, but that’s bad, man. We’ve gotta get you out of here.”

Steve’s eyes flit over to where Will’s still sleeping, but Eddie’s eyes stay planted firmly on his face. He doesn’t answer, what’s there to say? There’s no way out of here.

“Let’s just get water so we can stay alive, just a little bit longer,” Eddie says when it becomes clear that Steve has nothing left to say.

Steve nods, asking, “should we bring the kid?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but Will beats him to it. “I’m not a kid,” he says, clearly still half a sleep with the way his words are slurring together. “I’m coming.”

“He’s right,” Eddie says. “I mean, not about the kid thing, he’s definitely an infant, but we can’t leave him unprotected.”

“Hey,” Will mumbles, burrowing into the chair further and falling back asleep, clearly reassured that he won’t be left behind.

“We can’t keep him safe,” Steve whispers.

Eddie reaches out, pats his knee. Steve misses the warmth when he pulls it back.

“We’ll do what we can.”

Steve doesn’t want to go back out there. They’re safe in here, hidden away. But he will. Because Eddie asked, and Will needs him. That’s more than he’s had in a while.

He hopes it’s enough.

Part 21

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fic

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kiyoomi-levin · 2 months

Text

villain pt.1 (bakugoxf!reader) [NSFW]

a/n this was originally supposed to be a single fic but i wanted to see how ppl liked it lol. pt 2 is already in the making (and i promise it's more spicy than this one)

summary: harley (you) realize that joker (your boyfriend) is in love with batman (bakugo). If only harley also knew batman’s obsessed with her. —> inspired by this short word count: 4.9k warning(s): bakugo’s literally just a horndog

“I swear, Ren, if you pull anything like that again…”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as he pulls away from your grip.

“Enough, y/n. I always get you out, don’t I?”

You frown, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself.

“You try getting caught and being put into jail multiple times in a single month. It’s not funny,” you sigh.

You don’t even know what it’s like to be tied up by Bakugo fucking Katsuki, you want to add.

But you keep your mouth shut.

Ren’s already in a bad mood, jaw clenched tight as he walks faster. You’re almost jogging at this point just to keep up with his pace.

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath.

Ren hardly glances at you as the two of you enter your cheap apartment complex, walking silently up the two flights of stairs to your front door.

You cringe as you round the corner—on your front door is a familiar piece of white paper, the contents of which you already know by heart.

Late rent notice: Dear tenet, your rent was due on the 7th of February. As of the date of this letter, your payment is 4 days past due.

Frustrated, you rip the paper off of the metal door as Ren reaches over and enters the pin.

Your jaw drops as he walks inside carelessly, unbothered with the notice.

The two of you have been dating for almost a year now; you’re long used to his carefree nature.

That’s what first drew you to him.

Now it merely disgusts you.

“Ren,” you cautiously call out as the door shuts behind you, “I think it’s time to give it up.”

Your boyfriend tosses himself onto the wrinkled couch, pointing towards the fridge. Frowning, you head over and grab him a cold beer.

“Thanks babe.”

You collapse next to him, relishing in the fluffy texture. After being in a holding cell for a few days, you’ve definitely missed the warmth of your home.

“I know you’re mad, and I understand. But we learned something new from last time, didn’t we? Dynamight was literally showing off his weaknesses! If we just—”

“Ren, stop it! That was the last time. I’m done. Seriously.”

Your boyfriend is pouting now, reaching over to hold you in his arms. You want to fight back, you should.

He jumps into his usual rant about how much he hates Dynamight; that asshole, always flaunting his wealth and looks. He’s just a shitty hero with a shitty quirk.

Meanwhile, you’re fighting back tears of frustration.

How had you gotten here?

A year ago, you had seemingly met the man of your dreams at the villain rehabilitation center (looking back, maybe that hadn’t been the best idea).

You had been working there as a volunteer and was popular with all of the residents as a bright psychology student and aspiring therapist.

Despite the havoc these wannabe villains had wreaked across Japan, you had treated all of them with kindness and respect, hoping you would be able to make a positive difference in at least a single person’s life.

How naive you had been.

“Hey, y/n,” Ren smirks as you gently open the door to the small office.

You exhale— this one villain has been bothering you more often recently, and he was just too cute for his own good.

“Takanashi Ren. Your counseling appointment isn’t until later this evening.”

“Aw. I can’t give my favorite therapist a visit?”

You grin at him, pushing your dark rimmed glasses up your nose.

“I’m not a therapist yet,” you retort, stepping back as Ren pushes back from his chair, striding over to you. He has you cornered to a wall, and the muscles of his arm flex dangerously, reminding you of his crimes.

Despite this, all you can notice is how bright his eyes are— gosh, you just love the way they twinkle.

“I’m sure a smart girl like you’ll achieve all your academic dreams. I just hope I’m out of here on time to watch you cross that stage.”

And with that, you’d fallen head over heels for a cringy, third-rate villain with no plans for the immediate future. But the more time you spent with him, you truly felt as though you’d met your match.

He was intelligent. Witty. Funny.

Most importantly, he was different. His ideas for a liberated world— where all quirks were considered equal and everyone had the freedom to use their quirks as they wanted— was just unlike what you’d ever considered.

If only you had paused for a moment and asked him just how he would create that world.

It had been too late when you had realized what you had gotten yourself into. Now, you spend your days as a college dropout, supporting your boyfriend in his schemes that always end in failure and with you in handcuffs.

But you had already sworn to devote yourself to him.

Question. Would you die for me?

Yes.

That’s too easy. Would you live for me?

… Yes.

“y/n, are you listening? We’ll stake out at his condo. I’ll do all the work, babe, you just have to stand watch. I’ve already planned it all out. ”

There it is, that strike of pain in your heart.

Dynamight.

That’s all your stupid boyfriend cares about.

You’re already shaking your head, refusing furiously— but he’s begging, begging!

… And you sigh and look away.

“Last. Time.”

You peek out of the corner of your eye to see Ren’s face brighten.

He really is just as pretty as when you first met him a year ago.

“I promise, y/n. Last time.”

Fuck Ren and his promises.

From the moment you had scaled Dynamight’s luxurious condo, you had known your boyfriend had skimped on doing his research again.

There’s no way we’re gonna get away with this.

Stuffed in a large delivery box, you only pray that Ren’s mailman cosplay is good enough to get through the lobby.

Nervously holding your breath, you cringe as your boyfriend flirts with the ladies at the front desk and wheels you into the elevator.

Tap tap tap.

Three gentle knocks on the front of the box and you know it’s your turn.

“I’ve just disabled the hallway cameras,” Ren whispers as he pulls the box open.

You step out eagerly, stretching, before turning towards the door.

The corners of your mouth twitch as you suddenly remember why you hate rich people.

Dynamight’s door just screams narcissism— who really needs a gold plated front door?

Bakugo, the nameplate reads. The dreaded name you hear on a near-daily basis.

You scoff as you reach into your pocket and pull out your decoding tool, placing it on the keypad in a single, practiced motion.

Ren taps his foot impatiently as you work with the machine— you only let out a breath of relief as the door buzzes and swings open what feels like an eternity later.

You’re already sweating as your heart thumps with discomfort and fear at being at the hero’s homebase.

Comically, it feels as though the two of you have just broken into a villain’s lair.

“God, babe. You’re the best,” Ren murmurs, pushing you aside.

He’s a little too eager to ruin his nemesis’ life.

Ren rushes inside of Dynamight’s home, barely holding back his immediate laughter as he spots the marble dining table.

He’s already poking around as you carefully close the door quietly behind you, tiptoeing into the large house.

“Can you believe this man? He’s so fucking full of himself,” Ren spits as he stares at the various newspaper clippings of Dynamight adoring the bookshelves.

Forget that— if you were Dynamight, you’d be living like this too.

This is life you had envisioned for yourself.

Gorgeous white pillars uphold a high ceiling and there’s a leather couch in the center of the room. A giant television sits in front of it, almost mocking you.

One day… When this was all over, would Ren want to live like this with you?

“Come on, babe. We gotta find the data,” Ren says, heading towards the closest door to him.

The initial excitement has worn off and he’s now refueled by hatred.

Right. The data.

If you could just get your hands on the data of all of the current Japanese heroes, that would be the biggest data breach in the history of the World Heroes Association.

You and Ren would go down as super villains— a title you still weren’t sure if you wanted.

You repress these useless thoughts, though, and trail Ren around the large home as he throws open doors.

“Are you sure he’ll even have it?”

“Yeah, there’s no way a top hero wouldn’t have access to this— Damn! A basement. You think he’d keep his PC down here?”

You think back to your encounters with Dynamight, shivering as you remember his piercing red eyes meeting yours.

Your boyfriend heads down without hesitation as you follow him, nearly jumping when he yelps in joy.

“His computer’s right here.”

You swallow as you turn your head around the dark basement, eyes not yet adjusted to the dark.

Ren presses the power button of the computer and the entire room lights up from the bright screen.

Couch, television, gaming consoles, mini fridge— this must be his man cave.

“Alright. Get on it, babe,” Ren says, stepping back as the flickering monitor.

Sighing, you lean down, plug in your trusty usb stick into the PC. This was going to be a long day.

WARNING.

You jump for real this time, letting out a surprised shout as the machine blares a loud alarm.

Holy fuck, what’s going on?

Before you can move, the heavy door to the basement suddenly slams shut— you hear the metallic locks clicking in place.

You glance at Ren in desperation, but he’s not looking at you, only frowning at the computer.

“Get on with it. We have at least 15 minutes, I’ll find a way out by then.”

You don’t bother protesting. Despite his easy going demeanor, you know Ren cares about you.

“Don’t worry, he’s in Korea for a conference,” he reassures you as he steps towards the staircase.

BOOM.

You scream as you’re pushed back by an explosion, groaning in pain as you strike the side of Dynamight’s large desk.

Collapsing on the ground, dust arises on either side of you.

Your ears are ringing and your vision is hopelessly blurry.

When you muster up the strength to touch your stinging face, you wince as your hand comes back bloody.

Ren. He was closer to the door.

Your eyes widen as you roll yourself onto your side, trying to reach up to the chair next to you for help—

“Fucker!”

You gasp as your vision clears and you take in the sight in front of you.

Dynamight has your boyfriend pressed onto the floor and strikes him in the face, once. Twice. Three times.

Ren tries to fight back, but he’s basically hopelessly laying there, taking in the blows.

It’s clear you’ve caught him off duty— Dynamight’s clad in nothing but a tank top and shorts.

Despite that, he dominates your boyfriend easily. He’s kneeling on Ren’s stomach, one hand pinning down your boyfriend’s shoulder and the other punching his face at a sickening rate.

You do nothing but watch as you watch Ren’s eyes flicker, then shut.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, taking away the remaining rationality in you.

Pushing yourself onto your feet, you throw yourself at Dynamight, whose eyebrows merely raise as he registers your face.

You pull out your knife, swinging for his neck— Dynamight throws up his arm, blocking your attempt— before you can react, you’re pinned to the ground next to your boyfriend.

“You… asshole…” you hiss, airflow momentarily cut off.

You struggle against Dynamight's strength, grimacing. You’re on your stomach, hands pinned behind your back. You try to kick him, but the strength in your legs fails you.

Dynamight lets out a small laugh as he sits on your ass and your eyes widen as you feel his dick through his pants grinding on you purposefully.

Fucking pervert.

You turn your head to your side, glaring into Dynamight’s blood-colored eyes. The corners of his eyes are pointed upwards, he’s grinning madly.

Leaning forward, Bakugo rests his right hand next to your face. Your immediate reaction is to lunge at it, trying to bite, but he pulls back quickly, yanking on your wrists. Your body arches upwards and you wince at the slight pull.

“Easy. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Despite your slowly subsiding anger and hatred towards the man on top of you, you feel yourself blushing against your will.

You hate how he talks to you. You silently remind yourself to take a recording of it next time and report him for sexual harassment.

While you’re fuming over your current situation and mumbling profanities at him, Bakugo leans back and admires you.

You look really good like this— actually, you look perfect. Your eyes are slightly moist, cheeks flushed and lips a delectable pink. Bakugo’s mouth is watering at the sight.

He’s already hard. He’s been aching in anticipation since he first got the alert that you broke into his home.

What would happen if he were to just…

You’re staring up at Bakugo again, watery eyes meeting his narrowed ones, and he feels a shiver run down his spine as he admires his reflection in them.

“Can you let me go already? You’ve won, we get it,” you huff, cheeks inflating.

He wants to stuff them full with his cock.

Easy, Dynamight. You’re a hero.

He glances down at you apathetically, although his cock is throbbing.

You ignore it the best you can, although you’re turning pink again.

You shift from side to side, hoping you won’t have to beg him to let you go.

You’d rather die than do that.

Smirking, he clicks his tongue as he reaches forward with his right hand and strokes your face.

“Give me a reason. You’re imposing on my home, doing who knows what?”

Your teeth find his hand this time, sinking into the hardened flesh.

You bite down as hard as you can, wishing he’d just let go of you. Your jaw is just beginning to ache as you muster the courage to look back up at him.

Your blood runs cold as you notice his unchanging expression— he looks almost bored. But something flashes in his eyes.

Fuck, maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

As you pull back, you squeak as he grabs you by your hair, sliding forward to sit on your wrists.

One hand holds your head upwards, while his other holds your face. His hand engulfs your entire jaw as he forces you to look into his eyes.

“I could take you right now, but I’ll save that for later.”

From a distance, you hear the shouts of policemen and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Bakugo lets go and watches as your head falls back onto the floor.

You’re so caught up in the commotion you don’t catch his next words.

“You’ll be begging for it soon, anyway.”

You can do nothing but watch in handcuffs as Ren’s eyes open hazily and focus on you.

“y/n, I’m so sorry,” he starts.

You shake your head, smiling sadly at him. Was it really over?

No, you promised you’d always be with him—

“Dynamight.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes have shifted from you onto Dynamight, the one person that has been on his mind obsessively for the past few years..

Ren’s shouting at Dynamight now, who merely laughs in response.

You don’t even notice that Dynamight’s staring at you.

All you notice is that you’re not in Ren’s line of sight anymore.

The words of policemen and Ren start swirling together as your heartbeat slows.

He’s not in love with you, is he?

You can hear your heart physically shattering.

He’s in love with Dynamight.

Bakugo’s still embarrassingly hard as he readjusts himself, sighing as he looks around his ransacked home.

The police have taken longer than he’d hoped, making sure to photograph everything.

Even more irritatingly, the medics had tried to heal your teeth marks imprinted in his arm, which he had pulled away quickly.

“I’m going to save this as evidence during the trial,” Bakugo had quickly lied.

The young medic had blinked in confusion, but nodded eagerly, not wanting to defy the number one hero’s demand.

When his agency had first received the tip that you and Whiplash would be attempting a data breach, Bakugo had rolled his eyes and hesitated on flying back in early from his vacation.

You and Whiplash were shitty, third-rate villains, if you could be even labeled as such.

You would always be deserted by your boyfriend, who’d dip the moment Bakugo stepped close to the crime scene. You (with your gorgeous, angered face that turns him on so fast) would be left behind for Bakugo to handcuff.

Bakugo still remembers the first time he’d been called to a scene with you and Whiplash.

One year ago, two petty, new criminals had attempted to rob a series of homes in upper Tokyo.

Bakugo had been whisked away from his date with a pretty newscaster and was irritated to hell— he had been working all night sweet talking to the girl and was surely going to get laid— but when he had gotten to the scene, still pulling on his gloves, all thoughts of regret flew out the window.

“Get me the fuck out of here!”

The female villain is shouting as she kicks her legs.

The scene is laughable— her upper half is tapped in the tights washing machine and Bakugo takes his sweet time striding over to you, admiring the curve of your ass and the way you shake as you try to free yourself.

“What happened here?”

Bakugo smirks. He’d heard that the male villain had gotten away but the female was still somewhere on the premises.

He’d been incredibly lucky to find you first. It’s hard to hold back from slapping your ass and ripping those black tights off of you, but Bakugo swallows and moves to touch your hip instead.

You squeak in surprise as you feel two fingers tracing a triangle onto your upper thigh.

“Stop touching me, pervert! You sick freak! I have a boyfriend! I’ll kill you if you try anything!”

Your scream is slightly muffled as you bang your hands on the sides of the circular machine.

Your back is aching from being bent over for the past ten minutes and you arch your back, holding back a pained moan. Whoever this asshole was, you were gonna rip him a new one when he freed you.

Bakugo frowns as ‘boyfriend’ echoes inside his head.

Were you being truthful or were you just trying to scare him off?

It’s taking everything in him to not grind against you and with every passing second Bakugo feels closer to losing the battle with his sex driven core.

After another moment of deliberation, Bakugo reaches out, yanking you effortlessly out of the machine.

God.

You were just as pretty as he’d hoped. Face flushed and sweaty from being inside a confined space for so long, you collapse on your ass and fan yourself dramatically, taking in big gulps of fresh air before looking up to glare at him.

“Fucking freak! What sort of perverted police officer are you?” You demand, frowning as Bakugo silently holds his hand out.

A few seconds of silence pass before you awkwardly take it, allowing him to help you up.

“Thank you,” you mumble as you wipe your hands on your shirt.

Your eyebrows are still furrowed with frustration as you bite the inside of your cheek.

Ugh… you’re so adorable, Bakugo wants to just squeeze you to death.

Now he really wishes he hadn’t helped you out. You were helpless, bent over just perfectly, practically inviting him…. As his imagination runs wild, he feels the blood rushing towards his groin.

Oblivious, you stretch your sore body, letting out a soft moan. You’re strangely relaxed, as if you were simply meeting an old friend.

“I’m going to be arresting you now. Turn around,” Bakugo sighs, shifting his balance from foot to foot. If only he wasn’t an up-and-coming hero.

Your eyebrows raise and the ends of your lips quirk upwards.

“Isn’t there something else I could do to get out of this?” You tease, turning around and holding your wrists behind your back.

Fuck. Is that you wiggling your ass or is he just seeing things?

Bakugo’s breath hitches. The cold cuffs in his hands are only furthering his imagination. He’s about to pounce on you, but as he’s deciding which piece of your clothing he’ll rip away first—

“Don’t get any ideas, perv. That was a joke.”

You giggle at his silence, looking back to glance at his face, which pales in humiliation.

You’re still laughing as Bakugo curses under his breath and shoves you harshly into the police car.

You wouldn’t be laughing when he fucks you silly—which, he swears, he will one day.

Since your destined meeting, you had been on Bakugo’s mind.

Every. Single. Day.

Your pout. Your delicate hands. Your arching back. Your whines and the way you try to fight back every time he walks you to the police van.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just a phase.

To Bakugo’s horror, when he met up with the same newscaster from that night, he found himself unable to get hard, no matter how much she sucked him off.

He could have waved that off as an anomaly, but six girls later, Bakugo finally had to admit he may have a problem on his hands.

Bakugo knew the solution to his ED and meaningless infatuation with you.

He was sure all he had to do was fuck you. Easy enough— he’s confident in his sex appeal.

But you were also an impossible target.

You and your villain boyfriend moved around constantly, living under various aliases.

And when Bakugo could finally meet you (about once a month, when your boyfriend’s plans were foiled once again) you were whisked off into police custody before he could even bring up sex.

How was he even supposed to get to that topic, anyways?

Hey, y/n. I only get hard when I see you cry. Or, actually, when I just think about you at all.

Wanna bang?

Bakugo halfheartedly (almost unconsciously, this is just an immediate reaction to seeing you) discards his shorts and briefs as he leans against the back of the couch.

Staring up at the ceiling, he’s now regretting letting his agency call for backup.

He’d had you under him, in his own home. He even had a condom ready in his shorts— something he’s started carrying around since last year in hopes he’d get ambushed by you randomly.

It’s unfortunate he couldn’t take things further with you, but for tonight, his imagination and thoughts of you would have to suffice.

He almost saw you cry…

Bakugo’s almost drooling at the memory of your teary eyes as you stared at your boyfriend, who was dragged away into the back of a van despite his protests.

Fuck. What does he have to do to make you cry?

He throughout beating up Whiplash would be enough, but maybe you didn’t like your boyfriend as much as he thought— that makes him smile.

“Ugh…”

Bakugo can barely hold back a soft moan as his cock hardens quickly, now standing in his hand.

It’s hot, and typically Bakugo would shed all his clothes, but tiny specks of your blood decorate his white top. It’s like you’re basically touching him.

He admires the bruising teeth prints on his right hand, the one that’s now slowly stroking his dick.

Your mouth was on his hand. His hand. The thought alone makes him want to cum.

Bakugo allows himself a full stroke, groaning as he presses himself deeper into the couch.

It almost feels as if he’s simply overstimulating himself, as if he’d already cum— that’s how strong you were as a stimulus.

With how much you tease, you’d start with the tip, wouldn’t you?

Bakugo gently holds his cock at the base with his left hand and thumbs the tip, rubbing his rough thumb against the wet precum.

He’d manhandle you, he’s imagined it countless times, it’s what a girl like you needs.

In his imagination, you’d be a pillow princess. He’s confident about this.

Your attitude, the way you demand he frees you… it all points towards you being a menace in bed.

You would saunter into the bedroom, wearing nothing but thin lingerie (in his favorite color, dark orange, almost red). You’d smirk as you climb onto his bed, making yourself comfortable.

Your pretty eyes would narrow as he walks in shirtless with a raging boner.

You would be sitting there, legs outstretched for him to grasp.

Bakugo would grab your ankles in each hand, focusing on kissing your precious feet before moving upwards.

He’d press his lips against your shin, your knee, then suck your plush thighs, savoring your taste.

He’d maintain his eyes on you throughout, admiring the way your lips part slightly and your heavy breaths. You’d glare at him when you notice him staring at you— you’re always fighting back, aren’t you?

But in bed he’s the one in control.

He’d get to your panties and give your clothed clit a lick, pinning down your legs that threaten to close.

Bakugo would suck, embracing the taste of lace and your juices leaking from across the other side of clothing.

Contrary to popular belief, Bakugo wasn’t that full of himself.

In bed, he only has one priority— your pleasure.

Bakugo allows himself to slightly loosen his grip and start stroking his entire length slowly, just like how you’d do it.

Just a few singular strokes feel so good, his entire body lights up, electricity running up his spine.

He runs his thumb along the one long vein from the base of his cock, shivering. His cock is getting heavier in his hand and a familiar pressure is slowly building in his stomach.

After a few moments, Bakugo would finally push aside the flimsy fabric, licking your clit directly.

He’d be fisting his cock while doing so, like he’s doing now, stroking to the rhythm of his flattened tongue.

He’d be almost drooling at the taste, sometimes letting himself wander to your hole and slip his tongue in your tightness. He’d continue alternating between sucking and licking, relishing in your increasingly loud moans.

Your legs would begin to tremble beneath him and you’d start begging quietly despite your stubbornness.

Your eyes would start to roll to the back of your head— and that’s when he’d stop, pulling away entirely, still stroking himself, tightening his fist around his heat if necessary to prevent himself from releasing.

You’d whine and maybe kick him, legs weakened from your ruined orgasm.

A little edging never hurt anyone.

It only makes the pleasure of a shared orgasm stronger.

Bakugo would tease your hole, nudging at the entrance with the tip of his leaking cock.

Without warning, he’d thrust— you’d groan from the intrusion, grasping the sheets.

He’d start moving mercilessly, pulling out his length to the tip before slamming it back in, over and over. He would quicken with your moans fueling his pace.

He’d lean over to capture your pretty lips with his, intertwining your tongues.

Fuck, Bakugo really isn’t going to last, especially with his new favorite mental photograph—you lying on your back helplessly. Bakugo’s mind does the photoshop for him, removing the debris from the explosion and placing the two of you on his bed.

He’s stroking himself fervently now, at the same pace he imagines himself fucking you at.

You’d be shaking under him, holding back your tears. And, in typical y/n fashion, your pride would force you to hold your moans back. You’d be pressing your trembling hand against your mouth, wouldn’t you? You would be biting down on it, with the same teeth that were clamped down on his own hand earlier.

You’d cum as he rubs his thumb roughly against your clit, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth dropping open.

Bakugo would make sure to ride you out throughout the entirety of your orgasm before allowing himself to fall into how tight and wet you are and reaching his peak himself.

“y/n… I’m cumming…”

Bakugo bites back a groan as his eyes close, lips almost breaking from how hard he’s clenching down.

Continuing to pump, Bakugo’s hips lift as he thrusts into his fist one final time—his orgasm is so strong, it feels as though he’s losing control of his entire body, shaking as he feels his cum squirt and his cock pulsing from the base.

When Bakugo finally gathers his energy, he opens his eyes, blinking uncomfortably at the harsh lights of the living room. There’s warm cum now cooling all over his hands and the coffee table in front of him, only adding to the list of things he has to clean up after your little home invasion.

Sighing, Bakugo stands up, grabbing a tissue and wiping the traces of his release away.

It’s a little humiliating.

Yet another day of having to imagine you writhing under him to get off.

Bakugo won’t admit it— he never will— but honestly, it’s not as bad as he makes it out to be.

But he knows the real thing will be better.

Now, if only he could get his hands on you…

a/n yeah so i rewrote this whole thing on 4 hours of sleep so its prob shit and the formatting is wonky but whatevs.

STAN ENHYPEN STREAM SWEET VENOM (ENG VER)

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #mha smut #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #bakugo fic #dynamight #bakugo katsuki #bakugou smut

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kangnina · 20 days

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MDNI - Naïve!Jungwon 10 - ... because he's down bad for you...

You just wanted sex– no strings attached– but now you’re officially dating Jungwon. An adorably sweet man who swears he’s not as innocent as you assume he is. There was only one way for you to find out. It’s not that you don’t want to be his girlfriend. You really didn’t want to be anyone’s girlfriend. You never intended the “conquest for his dick” (as he calls it) to go this far. But here you are, a new level of Jungwon unlocked.

💋💋💋💋💋

“Babe, do you know what you want?” Jungwon asks, interrupting your thoughts. “Hmm?” you respond, absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of your short red skirt as you look at the menu in his hands. His eyes land on your bare thighs. He adjusts his glasses as he swallows hard. Then he scans the diner for anyone who may be watching you two. It's virtually empty. The coast is clear. He drops the menu onto the table and grabs your hand, quickly pulling you out of the booth and around the corner into the unisex restroom. Jungwon locks the door. “I need you, Noona. Please stay quiet for me, baby,” he says, kissing you gently as he unzips his pants. You nod your head before turning toward the wall, pressing your face against your stacked hands. You arch your back and widen your stance as he lifts your skirt. No panties, so he can use you anytime, just the way he likes. Jungwon pulls out his needy cock. He puts his open palm in front of your mouth. “Spit.” You create a large ball of saliva before spitting into his hand. “Good girl,” he smiles, quickly coating his cock with it. He presses the tip against your entrance and you bite your lip to hold in a squeal. You’ll never get used to how thick he is. With basically no prep, the uncomfortably delicious stretch as he tries to go all in makes you claw at the wall. “Fuck, Wonie,” you whine. He covers your mouth with both of his hands to quiet you, while pulling and impaling you on his cock. “Shhhh, Noona. I just need to fill you up with my cum, baby. It’ll be fast. I promise,” he says, clenching his teeth as he quickly works you over. Your legs are already shaking. Muffled moans into his hands. Eyes watering. It hurts so good. Only a few thrusts and you come undone. Jungwon can barely hold in his own grunts as he fucks you faster through your orgasm. “Gonna fill you up pretty girl,” he whispers. You feel him throbbing inside you. It’s so much, it’s dripping down your legs and all over his pants before he even pulls out. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” You’re still clinging to the wall, trying to fight your soul back into your body while he grabs a wad of paper towels and curses to himself over the mess he’s made of you two. You turn around to see him, wiping his jeans and pouting as his predicament. You can’t help but giggle. “S’not funny babe,” he mumbles, as he now tries to clean you up too. “Yes it is. You’re just so damn cute. This happens every time you get greedy. Now we have to go home and change. I don’t want my pussy sticking to the booth.” Jungwon looks away embarrassed. The duality is so unreal. He just impulsively dicked you down in the bathroom of a diner. But he will never not be adorable when he immediately gets shy about it afterward.

💋💋💋💋💋

“Wake up baby,” Jungwon whispers sweetly in your ear. But you don’t budge. “Get up, Noona,” he says, trying to be more stern. You still don’t move. The bed is just too comfortable and it’s Saturday. Jungwon snuggles his naked body closer to yours and kisses your cheek. You open one eye ever so slightly to see his feline eyes staring at your face. You immediately close your eye again. “I saw that!” he says. You try to hold back your smile as you let out a fake low snore. “Fine. I guess I’ll have to…” Jungwon snakes his hand underneath the covers to touch your thigh. He feels you tense up but his fingers creep between your thighs until his fingertips meet your naked pussy. You keep your eyes closed but your brows furrow as he rubs his fingers along your folds. You impulsively spread your legs, wanting him to continue. “And you call me greedy,” Jungwon chuckles and pulls his hand away. He climbs out of the bed. “Jungwonie, don’t stop– you're so mean,” you open your eyes, watching his cute naked butt saunter to the bathroom. You’re hoping if you follow him, he'll pin you to the shower wall and rail you– just like he did last night. Your muscles are still a little sore. You won’t tell him that because you know he’ll sincerely feel guilty and apologize like the sweetheart he is. In his defense, you were absolutely begging to be destroyed like the succubus you are. But he started it this morning and now you can’t resist. You hear the shower running, so you slip inside the bathroom hoping to sneak up on him. Jungwon is always one step ahead of you. The glass door is open and he’s completely wet, hair slicked back as the water cascades down his slender body. “Nope,” he says, watching you from the shower. “Be a good girl.” You frown as you take a seat on the bathroom counter. Jungwon grabs his body wash and pours it into his hand. Rubbing his hand over his chest and then his abs before landing on his erect cock. He stares at you as he starts to stroke himself. Lather building. He tightens his grip and picks up speed. He bites his lip, rocking his hips and fucking his hand. You start to stand up. “Stay right there,” he growls. You pout as you grip the edge of the counter with both hands to keep yourself from bolting into the shower. He rubs circles over his tip with his thumb and moans your name. A smile crawls across his face. Dimples on full display as he edges himself. Jungwon is deliberately trying to make you go crazy. “Please Wonie,” you beg. You know he loves to hear how pathetic you get for him. “Come here baby,” he coos, still stroking himself. You grin as you eagerly hop off the counter and walk over to him. But he holds up his other hand to stop you just outside the shower door. Jungwon almost came just seeing you get so giddy for him. He drops his hands, letting out a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down. “I know you want me to fuck you baby. But I also know you’re still sore. I don’t want to hurt you. Gimme your hands.” You immediately grab his cock. He smiles, wrapping his hands around yours and fucks into them. Suds run down your arms as the spray from the shower ricochets off of him onto you. You stare into his blissed out eyes. His little whimpers of your name make you pussy clench. You moan, tightening your grip and his whole body shakes as his cum spills onto your intertwined hands. Jungwon pulls you into the shower, hugging you tightly and kissing you slowly as the warm water gently beats down on both of your bodies.

Naïve!Jungwon 11

@nyfwyeonjun @maymarrylhs @nyxtwixx @wildflowermooon @ilabjungwon @enha-ism @belowbun @snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark

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