#the prettiest motherfucker around

[frnkiebby]

look at this fucking cutie pie~🎃

#god i love his hands #just #his fucking hands #i’m gonna fucking implode #i’m watching an interview of him and am just so grateful that this fucker talks with his hands #also really love his palm tattoos #the prettiest motherfucker around #frnkiebby #frank iero #mcr #frnkiero #mcrmy #frnkie #mcr5 #my chemical romance #my chem #ilhsm

[arachine]

— 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞?: 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬

+ 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝: multiple stranger things men

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content

+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so…i’m back. It’s been so long since i’ve posted the first dick analysis, and i just couldn’t resist doing one for the stranger things men! this is just a filler post until i finish writing some of my requests and outlining the first few chapters of my eddie munson series. until then, please enjoy this, i had a lot of fun just spewing all of my whore thoughts into this >.<

+ part two here !

+ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: the small font is a stylistic choice. if you are having trouble reading, i suggest you adjust your iphone’s settings!

eddie “the freak” munson

↻ length: the social pariah, eddie munson, is many things. he’s loud, obnoxious, witty, and…a freak. yeah, he roleplays with 15 year old kids, and yeah, he very well may be a super senior–having repeated the 12th grade three times–but those things don’t really make him a freak. no, the thing that makes him a freak is the unnecessarily long, heavy piece of meat that swings between his legs like a pendulum. 

coming in at just about 6 inches flaccid, and 7.5 inches fully erect, eddie takes the cake for this lists’ third longest dong. 

↻ width: eddie’s a pretty skinny guy, and so, his dick’s probably not much thicker than a febreeze bottle. but it’s okay, because skinny dick, is still good dick. 

↻ color: he’s pale but it’s definitely a little tanner than the rest of his body. i’d say it’d progressively get darker the closer it gets to his tip (which is a beautiful mauve-y color that darkens when erect).

extra: 

↻ groomed: it’s the 80s, and he’s a metalhead with a wild mane of hair on his head, so naturally, i think he’d rock a little bush. just a little one, but on occasion, he will tackle it with some scissors and trim it down a bit. 

↻ curved: oh, god, yes. deliciously curved to the left with a plump, mushroomy head. 

↻ veins: duh! two thick veins that begin underside the shaft and split into a fork just beneath the head. 

↻ how he uses it: gonna just go ahead and say it, and this may be controversial, but i honestly think eddie would love putting you in a full nelson. now before you scrunch your nose in disagreement, just LISTEN. he’s such a skinny motherfucker but i just know there’s some muscle under those black skinny jeans and tees. i mean, we all saw that scene where he pinned steve against the wall with a broken beer bottle to his throat—albeit because he was defending himself—but that’s neither here nor there. eddie fucks, and he fucks good. 

steve “good hair” harrington 

↻ length: steve is a ken doll personified. except, unlike a ken doll, there’s actually something down there besides a flat surface—so rest assured, you won’t have to worry about bumping purses when doing the woo hoo. but here’s another controversial opinion: steve doesn’t have a big dick—it’s average, and that’s okay!

steve’s dick rests at a firm 5.3 inches flaccid, and a good 6.5 inches erect. not too big, and not too small. just…perfect, like him. 

↻ width: for what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth! yeah, you’re getting 6 inches, but he’s hitting you with that stretch—and it burns, but in the best way imaginable. 

↻ color: the prettiest boy in hawkins has to have the prettiest cock, right? i think it’d be pretty light in comparison to the rest of his body. when i think of him, i feel like he’d be one of those guys who are kinda tan but when they take off their pants, they have the most bizarre looking tan lines ever, and their ass is brighter than the moon! anyway, i digress; it’d be pretty pale with a mean, red tip when aroused, and strawberry pink when it’s soft. 

extra: 

↻ groomed: yes. he keeps it really simple. shaves it down real low but not enough to the point where he’s bald. 

↻ curved: as straight as a pencil 

↻ veins: has one on the top of his shaft that wraps around the head 

↻ how he uses it: we’re talking about steve here. steve the womanizer, steve the public enemy and panty dropper of seasons one through three. he’s all about that doggy style life. don’t let his himbo persona in season four fool you, that man is a whore! he likes to get down and dirty, and if that includes you on your hands and knees, with your face shoved into the sheets while your tears drip down onto the sheets…then, so be it. 

billy “ima turn you out” hargrove

↻ length: i am not a billy hargrove enjoyer but i can’t sit here and lie to you, i just won’t. that silly little fella’s got a cock the size of a bull… 

8.2 inches. 

no, i’m not taking criticism. he’s big, end of story. 

↻ width: the length matches the girth, sis. if you think you can take him—you can’t. and if you think i’m kidding—i’m not. think coke bottle, but longer.  

↻ color: tanned to perfection, because of course it is, he was a lifeguard for god sake! 

extra: 

↻ groomed: like steve, he keeps it pretty well trimmed. although, sometimes, he lets it grow out so he can show off his happy trail. and a sight to see it is!

↻ curved: oh my days, it curves to the right—like a lot. a real captain hook. 

↻ veins: absolutely covered in ‘em, but the most prominent one resides on the side of his shaft and if you really look at it, it kinda looks like a little lighting bolt. 

↻ how he uses it: you can’t have sex with billy and expect intimacy, that just isn’t happening. he likes it with absolutely no strings attached and no eye contact. so, expect to be thrown into all types of obscure positions, his favorite of which includes you with half of your body hanging off the bed and him pounding mercilessly into you from behind. honestly, as long as billy gets a view of your ass, he doesn’t really care.

jim “big zaddy” hopper 

↻ length: the biggest dick on this list. a true monster cock, that is it, that is all. 

but if i had to give a specific measurement…9 inches. whether that’s his measurement soft or erect, i’ll let you be the judge of that.  

↻ width: he’s so thick that he’d probably split your pussy open if he didn’t properly prepare you, and even then, you’d still never be prepared enough :(

↻ color: i’d say it would be one or two shades darker than his complexion, and the head is definitely not pink. more like a rouge mixed with a little brown.  

extra: 

↻ groomed: jim just gives grown man, you know? like obviously, he is one, but i just think there’s something so sexy about a man with body hair! so, i don’t think he’d keep it well trimmed, or trimmed at all for that matter. and if he does decide to take a pair of scissors to it, it’s very, very rare. 

↻ curved: surprisingly, no. it’s straight, but extremely heavy and he has big man balls to match. 

↻ veins: yes, just like billy, they’re all over. with a dick as big as his, he’s gonna need all the veins he can get to transport the appropriate amount of blood to it. 

↻ how he uses it: very traditional, very cute and sweet. likes to fuck in missionary because he’s a real man, and he prefers to look into his lover’s eyes while pleasuring them. however, that doesn’t mean he’s a prude. if he wants to, he could put you in a full nelson, but he usually just opts for something that won’t throw his old man back out :)

© all content belongs to arachine 2022. no reposts, modifications, plagiarizing, or remaking of any form without proper credit.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x reader smut #billy hargrove smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things smut

[heartfullofleeches]

BEAU X EVERGLADES READER??

-🛒

Yan Unicorn + Everglades/Nature Lover Darling

-

"Guys.... Crazy story, but I'm out here standing a feet away from one of the prettiest horses I have ever seen in my life-"

You are aware they could hear you- right? Whilst bitter towards their unique brand of beauty being compared to that of a common creature - Beau had to give you credit where it was due. The emphys in your voice as you declare them one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen makes you a more tolerable presence than previous humans "guests" they've had to deal with, and the brunt of the reason you were still standing to begin with.

"So I'm out here, taking my daily walk in the woods as usual - but I was feeling a little adventurous today and decided to go a little further than usual. Got lost almost instantly, but I'd say it's worth it. You guys won't believe me when I say this is one majestic motherfucker."

Beau recalls hearing a saying that flattery gets you nowhere - clearly the human who came up with that phrase was more foolish than any human that's stumbled upon their land before. As you spoke, your body was perfectly positioned to hide theirs from the camera - revealing little more but the lush foliage around their hooves. A sign of respect, the unicorn assumed paired with your fair distance. A human that understands boundaries.... to a certain extent, and compliments them well. Company like that is rare given their looks and power. Beau would never admit it himself, but it does get quite lonely as the only unicorn in this forest.

"I'd give my kidney to go over there and pet them, but I don't wanna scare them off either."

A tall silhouette casts your smaller figure into darkness. You hardly even notice for a few seconds as you relay your experiences to your phone - head snapping upwards as its snatched straight from your hands.

"It's pretty rude to be hook on technology while in the company of someone else... It may be wise to teach you some manners, but I'm willing to let things slide and return your device if you tell me more about yourself."

"...Sounds like a good deal to me!... Can I ride you?"

"My.... At least ask a person's name before being so bold.. Maybe there is a thing or two I should teach you..."

".... So, is that a maybe?

#Everglades reader #Beau my oc #Yandere unicorn #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere blurb #yandere #yandere drabble #yandere monster #Yandere centaur

[sapphire-writes]

Money Shot

Part 4 of The Campaign

modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: Tensions rise between you and Aemond at the arrival of Floris Baratheon.

word count: 6.3k

rating: explicit/18+/MDNI

warnings: kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), degradation, slight praise, semi-public, finger sucking, gagging, hair pulling, begging, infidelity, reader serving cunt (listen, our reader is not a girl's girl and you know what we're just rolling with it for this one rip), angst, alcohol consumption, smoking, language

note: oh hey there! it's my monthly series update whatcha know! how's everyone doing? surviving? thriving? slay! thanks for reading lovelies I hope you enjoy it!

dividers & headers by me (i know, we've come so far)

if you'd like to be notified when I post please follow and turn on notifications for @sapphire-writes-updates in lieu of a taglist!

like this story? check out more of my work HERE 🖤

Floris Baratheon is annoyingly pretty.

Even more so now that she’s this close; seated across from you at brunch. Floris and her sisters went to school with you when you were younger; you’d been in the same grade as her older sister Maris. You were never close. When it became clear her family was supporting Aegon over Rhaenyra, you made it your mission to find out everything worth knowing about them. 

Floris motherfucking Baratheon. 

She bats her lashes at Aemond as he holds his brother’s attention in polite quiet conversation. Easily the prettiest of her sisters so it is wasn’t surprising that Aemond had chosen her as his prize. Though to be frank, you’d never thought of Aemond as shallow. He hardly dated at all. 

Aegon had arrived late the previous night, setting off the alarms of Summerhall as he fell into the swimming pool. A fabulous start to the day. 

Floris had arrived the evening after you and Aemond’s most recent rendezvous. She’d squealed like an excited teenager, throwing her arms around Aemond, her heels lifting off of the ground as she peppered light kisses across his face. Her presence had been a thorn in your side ever since. 

A family outing had been Alicent’s idea. The restaurant was Rhaenyra’s choosing; an intimate little rooftop brunch spot. You’d all gotten there early to avoid the sweltering midday sun. 

You glance over your shoulder at the table behind you where Rhaenyra is seated, flanked by Daemon and Joffrey. Alicent and her father sit across from them, both tight lipped. Daemon is lost in his menu, the corner of his mouth curling into a sneer as he murmurs something to Rhaenyra. The table appears quiet, with no polite conversation. Though Joffrey is seated beside his mother, it feels very much as though you’d been seated at the kid’s table. 

“Weren’t you supposed to bring someone?” Helaena asks, glancing at Aegon out of the corner of her eye as she pours over the menu. “I thought you were seeing that Lannister girl.”

You turn away from the grown-ups' table, reaching for your wine. You declined the complimentary mimosas, as did Aegon. He swirls his glass of scotch in his hand, the ice cube clinking against the sides. Nothing like hard liquor at 11 am. 

“She’s not coming,” Aegon answers.

“Not coming?” 

Aegon merely shrugs, tapping his finger against the glass, “We had a fight.”

Helaena quirks a brow at that, pursing her lips as she sets her menu on the table.

“A fight?”

“Yes. A disagreement.”

“About what?”

Aegon groans, leaning back in his chair as a waitress walks by. His eyes rake over her figure so quickly you almost miss it. Aegon’s been perving for years and he’s mastered his technique. Your stomach sours and you roll your eyes. Jace reaches over to you, placing his hand on top of yours giving it a comforting squeeze. 

“Loyalties. I kissed someone else and she wasn’t happy.” Aegon tells his sister. His playful frown suggests he’s unbothered by her reaction to his infidelity.  

Of all the Targaryens, you think you hate Aegon the most.You glance at Aemond and find him already looking at you.

Well, maybe not the most. 

“How dreadful. You’ll cause a scandal, I’m sure,” Helaena muses. 

“No one’s paying much attention to me. Nothing to worry about,” Aegon says, plucking a piece of bread from the basket in front of him, “Everyone’s more concerned about Maegor With Tits.” He holds the bread against his chest for crude emphasis. 

“Hush,” Helaena snaps, always the quickest of her siblings to defend her half-sister. 

Helaena and Aegon quarrel like lovers. It’s unsettling. 

Aemond is still watching you, even though you’ve looked away. You’re trying to control the small smirk that plays on your lips. You know why he’s staring. 

It wasn’t as though you were trying to get him to look at you, but you had opted for a more revealing dress than you usually would for a family outing. Jace’s eyes had widened considerably as you’d smoothed the small scrap of silk into place that morning.

“You look incredible,” he’d said, hand on your hip, eyes following the fabric that stopped just below the curve of your ass, leaving no amount of leg to the imagination.

You glance at Aemond, meeting his hungry gaze. He’s awfully fun to play with. It’s been so boring the past few days ever since Floris’ arrival. She’d been stuck to Aemond’s side like a pretty little leech the entire time. 

“So, Floris,” you say, placing your wine glass on the table, “We’ve been living in the same house for three days now and I feel like I don’t know anything about you. Tell me about yourself.” It’s a command more than a request.

Aemond keeps his eye focused on you, the heat of his glare burning into your face. Helaena raises a brow as Jace and Aegon begin talking to one another, oblivious. Helaena has always been the most observant. Floris smiles kindly, not sensing the tension that rolls off your shoulders. It’s the first time you’ve attempted to speak to her. 

“Oh ... .well…,” she glances at Aemond though he says nothing, “What would you like to know?”

A smile dances across your lips. This should be fun.

“I can’t remember for the life of me where you studied. Which university did you graduate from again?” you ask, cocking your head to the side, “Was it Harvard or Yale? I always confuse the East Coast ivies.” You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head. 

Floris’ eyelashes flutter; a nervous tell. She smiles with a sigh, clearly not used to the spotlight directed at her. 

“Oh well I think you’re thinking of my sister Maris,” she answers, cheeks turning a rosy hue of pink. You knew that, obviously. If Aemond wanted intellectually stimulating conversation, he’d have chosen her as his arm candy. “But I’m planning on going back and getting my degree at some point. I’m really interested in botany—”

“Botany! Ha! That was my minor in university,” Helaena chimes in. Floris’ eyes light up, thankful Helaena has joined the conversation. “That’s rather—”

“Flowers?” you interrupt and Floris’ smile falters ever so slightly as her blue eyes return to you.

Unlucky for her, you’ve never been one to give up easily. You reach for your glass, holding it lazily between your fingers. Smiling tightly and tilting your head to the side, you continue your advances. 

“Yeah,” Floris shakily answers, “I mean…I don’t know. I haven’t really made up my mi—”

“Have you read any good books recently?” you ask, taking a sip of wine. You watch Aemond begin to tap his fingers against the table out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh um, not really,” Floris answers, “I’m not much of a reader.”

You flick an eyebrow up at that, glancing at Aemond. His pale blue eye holds your gaze, nostrils flaring. Interesting. Aegon and Jace have paused their side conversation.

“Oh?”

The table is silent. It’s like watching a cat play with a mouse. Aemond’s knuckles blanche as he curls his fingers in toward his palm. A waitress walks by, absentmindedly refilling the sweating glasses of water that line the table. Aemond says nothing; he doesn’t jump to his girlfriend’s defense.

Doesn’t look away from you. 

Floris wets her lips, smiling politely up at the waitress as she refills her cup. She pauses for a moment, nervously sipping her water. She’s about three mimosas in; you’re sure the alcohol is working in your favor. A layer of nervous sweat covers her brow. 

“I mean, I haven’t really—”

“What about current events?” you continue to steamroll her, “Aemond loves staying up to date he must be driving you crazy with all that. Especially with what's been going on recently in the Riverlands.”

“Oh, well I’m not really sure—”

“Oh you aren’t?” you ask in mock confusion, over dramatically pouting, “Hmph. I assumed you’d be interested in his work. I mean as Aemond’s girlfriend and all—”

“Oh well, that’s actually a great segway,” Floris interrupts, her voice shriller than before, as if she’s trying to regain control of the conversation.

You take another sip from your glass, allowing her interruption. You’re enjoying her distressed state. A smile curves at the edge of your lips and you attempt to hide it behind your glass. 

“We’ve just been having the loveliest time together, haven’t we?” Floris says, pressing her hand against Aemond’s shoulder.

He makes a soft noise of approval and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. You catch his gaze again, the conversation fading into white noise. 

Does Floris know she’s been sleeping on the bed he ruined you on? Your cheeks grow hot. Just a few nights ago you’d been tied to the rails of their headboard. Guilt stabs you in the gut but you choose to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. Floris Baratheon means nothing to you. She’d do the same to you in a heartbeat. There’s no playing fair in these circles. 

“—you see we decided to get engaged!”

You choke on your wine, sputtering, and coughing. Droplets of wine stain the white tablecloth like little pink raindrops. Jace rubs a comforting hand on your back. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“Sloppy girl you got there, Jacey,” Aegon snickers. 

“I’m fine,” you manage in a hoarse voice, “Just went down the wrong way, that’s all.” You can feel droplets of wine running down your chin, onto your neck, and down between your breasts.

Aegon raises his eyebrows, an amused smile on his face as his eyes shamelessly follow the river flowing down your chest. You wipe your chin as you stand from your chair, the legs scraping harshly against the wooden floor.

“I’ll just go freshen up,” you tell everyone. Your throat tightens uncomfortably. 

“D’you want me to come with you?” Jace asks, rising halfway from his chair, his brown eyes wide.

“No, I’m fine,” you insist, pressing your hand against his shoulder until he sits back down, “I’ll be right back.”

You don’t look at Aemond, nor anyone else as you hurry past Rhaenyra’s table and between other patrons towards the restroom. Hurrying down the hallway and slamming the door shut behind you, you take a deep breath gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are wide and bloodshot from your coughing fit, and your chest is shiny and sticky from the wine. 

“Seven fucking hells,” you grumble, grabbing one of the provided towels and wetting it in the sink. Cleaning yourself up, you try to stop your hands from shaking. 

Engaged. 

You shake your head, fixing your hair, trying to rid yourself of the thought.

He’s fucking engaged.

Sleeping with Aemond Targaryen when he has a “girlfriend” is one thing. But fiancee? The thought makes your stomach tighten. Well, it shouldn’t mean anything. You didn’t care then. You shouldn’t care now. You meet your eyes in the mirror, your stomach flipping unpleasantly. You shouldn’t care. Your lower lip trembles, nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms.

Seven hells.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

What have you been doing? You have a boyfriend. He has a fiancee. You press your hand against your forehead, breathing deeply as your heart thrums against your ribs. A wife practically. Gods if this got out. You don’t even want to think about it. Rhaenyra’s campaign would be jeopardized. Everything you’ve worked for. You’ve been so incredibly reckless. 

This has to end. 

The door opens and you’re torn from your thoughts as Aemond enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Of course, he followed you. You glare at him through the mirror.

“Out.”

“Let me explain—”

“Get out Aemond,” you demand, drying your hands, not turning to face him.

“I meant what I said,” he continues, taking a step forward, “It’s an arrangement that’s all, a publicity stunt—”

“A publicity stunt? You’re getting married,” you hiss, throwing the towel against the counter, meeting his eyes through the mirror once more. It feels hauntingly familiar, looking at him like this; the last time he was buried to the hilt inside of you. “Get. Out.”

“It doesn’t change anything,” he insists.

You laugh bitterly, finally turning to face him. He’s standing inches away from you, so close you can smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It makes your head spin. Shit. Stay focused.

“Doesn’t change anything?” you repeat, “She’s going to be your wife.”

“Don’t be such a child,” he snaps, causing you to flinch, “You know how this works. People are paired off together all the time.” He takes a step forward and you back up, your ass nudging against the edge of the sink. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” He steps even closer, his body completely caging you against the counter.

Aemond places his hands on either side of you. He’s not wrong. You know how this world works. Families align with each other all the time through relationships and marriages. It’s as if they’re frozen in time using betrothals for political gain. 

Just look at Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon. Their marriage was anything but a loving one. Her children are proof of that, clearly fathered by someone else. You remembered watching them arrive when you were in grade school; exiting the black limousine and not realizing who they were. Their father was rumored to be the head of the Secret Service at the time, Harwin Strong, though this was never confirmed. 

“It’s not like Jace is going to let you go,” he murmurs, hands inching closer to your waist, “Or have you not thought that far ahead?”

His hands come to rest on your hips and he chuckles softly at the sound this elicits from you.

“You’re in too deep,” he says, nose brushing against your cheek. His minty breath wafts over your face. One hand remains on your waist, the other trailing up the side of your ribs. Goosebumps bloom on your arms as he reaches your face.

“It’s for the election,” you whisper.

“The water’s over your head,” he murmurs, his hand caressing your cheek, “If you think it’ll end there, you’re not as smart as I thought you were. You’re drowning.”

You swallow, lips parting to give him another snide remark, but he doesn’t let you; the hand that cradles the side of your face pulls you forward and presses your lips to his. You push against his firm chest, disconnecting your lips with a wet pop. Your hand reaches toward your face, your fingertips pressing against your tingling lips.

“You’re getting married—”

“And you’re fucking jealous,” he snarls, bringing his face inches away from yours. You suck in a surprised breath, cheeks warming as his lips curl into that familiar smug smirk, “Worried Floris is getting what you’ve been missing?”

Humiliation makes your skin prickle; the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Your fingers fall from your lips.

“Fuck you,” you hiss from between clenched teeth, “I don’t care.”

You try to push by him but his hands plant themselves on your middle, holding you firmly in front of him. His hands slide down your waist, cupping the globes of your ass. A disapproving whine leaves your lips as he squeezes the soft flesh harshly, lifting you onto the counter. Your fists beat against his chest and he grabs your wrists.

“You care,” he insists, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck as you twist an arm from his grip to shove him, “Otherwise you wouldn’t be behaving like a spoiled brat in front of everyone.” His lips press against your throat with every word he speaks. 

One of his large hands moves up your back winding in your hair and tugging your head backwards. Your forearm presses against his shoulder attempting to push him away. Aemond hums appreciatively against your throat, pressing another soft kiss against it. Your breathing hitches as he continues to kiss your neck, warm desire pooling in your belly. You stop pushing, curling your hand into the fabric of his shirt instead, pulling him closer. 

“It’s been three days,” he murmurs, continuing his exploration up your neck with his lips, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin, “Three days without this cock is driving you crazy, huh?”

“Aemond,” you try to snap at him but it’s dangerously close to a moan, “They’ll be waiting for us—” You’re silenced by his fingers thrusting through your parted lips, pressing down against your tongue. 

“Shhh,” he hushes in a condescending tone, “I think that pretty mouth has said enough, don’t you agree?” You watch him with wide eyes as he presses further down your throat until the tips of his fingers reach the rough surface of the back of your tongue causing you to gag. He moves his fingers back.

“C’mon, you can do better than that,” he scolds, tapping your cheek with his other hand. His eyes narrow as he presses his fingers further down your throat once more. Your throat constricts and you claw at his bicep, fighting the urge to gag again. You hollow your cheeks, sucking his three fingers in your mouth. “There she is. That’s much better— there’s a good girl, that’s it.”

He removes his soaked fingers, a line of saliva still connected to your lips. Gasping for breath you feel him part your legs, his hand sneaking under your dress. You can feel his cool, wet fingers against your inner thighs. 

“Aem—”

“What did I say?” His words are clipped and irritated. His fingers graze against your clothed center, pressing lightly against your soaked center. You can feel how much you want him. How right he was about the jealousy that burns in your belly. You’re sure he can feel it too.

A muffled whine leaves your lips as his fingers pull your panties to the side, parting your silky wet folds. You’re embarrassingly wet already. Aemond chuckles darkly, fingers dipping against your entrance and gathering some of your arousal before circling your clit.

“You’re begging to get fucked, you know that?” he asks, his voice husky and strained, “Walking around here looking like this.” The hand in your hair tightens and pinpricks of pleasure sting your scalp. “Needy. Little. Slut.” His fingers pinch your clit on the last word and you cry out.

Aemond slams his lips against yours to silence your cry and you hook a leg around his slim waist, heel digging into his lower back pulling him closer. He kisses you feverishly like he means to devour you. It’s sloppy and his teeth scrape against your lip but you don’t care. It’s been days without him speaking to you, let alone touching you. You’ve felt like you were going crazy.

Not that you were about to admit that to him.

Your breathing is turning to pants as he continues to kiss you, fingers circling your bud with determined precision. Your eyebrows scrunch together as the current of pleasure in your abdomen winds tighter, and your toes begin to curl. You whine against his mouth and he shushes you once more.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls through an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. 

You accept it greedily and your limbs turn to jelly when he licks at the roof of your mouth. One hand clings to his bicep, nails digging into the hardened muscle while the other winds around his neck and tangles in his hair. His hand dips lower, two fingers stretching inside of your warm waiting pussy. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs as you shudder at the stretch, “Fucking c’mon then—” his fingers crook upwards pressing against the spongy section of your walls that has your back arching, and black spots dancing across your vision.

“Gods—” you whine, clenching around his digits as his thumb presses against your clit. His fingers are longer and thicker than your own; you’d indulged yourself several times the past few days but masturbation was nothing compared to the pleasure Aemond is able to give you. 

“This is all you needed, huh?” he asks, steadily beginning to finger you, focusing all his attention on caressing your sweet spot. “Oh yeah. You’re so much happier with my fingers buried inside this tight little cunt, huh?” Your face flushes as he speaks to you. Every stroke of his fingers sends waves of pleasure washing over you. Your jaw slacks, eyes squeezing shut. Every nerve ending in your body is singing as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You want my mouth on this sweet little pussy?” he asks gruffly, his face pressed against yours, “Tell me how badly you want it. C’mon. Tell me.” The squelching sound of his fingers is borderline pornographic in the small space.

“Yes!” you wail.

“Beg me,” his voice is rough, the commanding tone causing your walls to spasm around his lengthy digits. 

“Please,” you whine, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He knows your body so well. Too damn well. Every curl of his fingers incessantly bullies against your sweet spot. You can feel your walls pulsating around his fingers, squeezing him tighter and tighter and tighter. 

“Please what, baby?”

Your teeth are clenched together, and a whimper gets caught in your throat. Your eyes roll back in your skull as he slows his pace stroking just right. Your head tilts back gently tapping against the mirror, mouth hanging open in bliss as you try to find the words. 

“Please—please I need your mouth—”

“Yeah?” he says, an amused, open-mouthed grin slashed across his face, “Where?”

Seven hells he’s relentless. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, your heel presses against his buttock, your back arching off the counter desperately grinding against his hand for more friction. Gods you’re practically fucking yourself on his hand your hips rutting against his palm.

“Please! Please on my pus—” Your sentence dies as Aemond kneels in front of you. “Aemond—oh god,” you moan as he presses his face against you, one hand holding your panties to the side, as his tongue slides over your aching clit.

“Since you begged,” he murmurs, suckling your clit between his lips and sucking; tongue lavishing the sensitive button with even strokes.

His tongue is deliciously warm and firm, tracing little circles around your clit and making your mind go blank, the last few moments forgotten. His fingers stroke the rough patch at the front of your sensitive walls and he presses against it with brutal determination. 

Your thighs shake around his head, fingers tangling in his hair as the pressure in your belly builds, winding tighter and tighter until at last white-hot pleasure bursts through you; your muscles go taut and you cry out, slamming the back of your hand against your mouth to stifle the noise as you release barrels through you. 

He fucks you through it, a low rumble of appreciation bursting through his chest as the wet, sucking sound of his fingers grows louder with your release. The pleasure is almost too much; it ignites you completely. 

A rush of air enters the small space and your head snaps up. Aemond is quick to stand, mouth falling away from you and your release fizzles out. 

Daemon leans against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on his face as he purses his lips. His eyes follow the length of Aemond’s arm down to where it disappears still beneath your dress. Aemond’s fingers slip out of your pussy, the soaked digits dragging a wet path down against your inner thighs leaving you despairingly empty.

“Carry on,” Daemon murmurs, letting the door close behind him as he exits.

Blood rushes in your ears and the room begins to spin. It’s like Daemon took all the air in the room with him. Black spots appear in your vision. 

“Fuck,” you’re nearly panting, “Oh gods—” Your mind is beginning to spiral, the high of pleasure leaving your limbs. “Shit,” you breathe, fixing your panties, hopping off of the counter, “—fuck.”

Aemond reaches for the sink, and he turns it on calmly, beginning to wash his hands. 

“Relax.”

“Relax?”

He shuts off the faucet, drying his hands as he faces you.

“He’s not going to say—”

“Aemond,” you stop him, holding your hand up, “Just don’t.”

Fixing yourself quickly, Aemond stands in stony silence as you open the door and flee the bathroom. You return to the table, not looking at anyone. Sitting beside Jace you reach for your wine, downing the rest of it, trying to ignore the ache between your legs. 

Aemond rejoins a moment later, reclaiming his seat next to Floris. She holds out the menu, pointing at something trying to show him. It takes him a moment to get back into character. You watch him blink before slinging an arm over the back of her chair and leaning into her, seemingly very interested in what she’s showing him. 

You place your glass on the table, your leg bouncing uncontrollably. Helaena watches you, lilac eyes narrowed. Turning away from her scrutinizing gaze you subtly glance at Rhaenyra’s table.

Daemon meets your eyes, raising his glass to salute you.

Fuck.

You forgo dinner later that day, claiming the sun has gone to your head. Hiding beneath the silk sheets of you and Jace’s bed seems like a much better way to spend the evening. You try to busy yourself on your phone but your thoughts keep going back to Daemon. The smirk he wore, the look in his eyes.

Caught you.

Your stomach turns and suddenly the blue light is making you feel nauseous and you throw your phone across the room. The sun bleeds orange tendrils of light across the floor as it lowers over the horizon, the hours ticking by as you lay in silence. 

The door creaks open when the room is shrouded in darkness. The mattress dips as Jace sits, placing a comforting hand on your back.

“Hey,” he says softly, rubbing slow circles over the covers, “How’re you feeling?”

“Miserable,” you answer truthfully.

“I’m sorry baby,” he murmurs, “Do you want me to stay?”

“No,” you tell him, “I’m sure there’s something planned, you should join them.”

“It’s just a movie,” he tells you, “Joffrey picked it. Some crazy action film.”

“Charming,” you grumble as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can I bring you something later?” he asks, and you don’t answer, “Get some rest.”

He gently closes the door as he leaves and the nausea comes back. You don’t deserve him. Jace knows, you’re sure of it. He knows there’s someone else. He’s just too nice to say anything. 

Whether he knows it’s Aemond you’ve been sleeping with is a different story.

It should make you feel worse than it does. 

You sit up, throwing off the covers suddenly very hot. You can’t sit in this room anymore, can’t lie down and sulk. It’s driving you up a wall, making you want to crawl out of your skin. You need fresh air. Rising from the bed, you throw on a pair of shorts and a simple t-shirt along with some flip-flops. 

The hallway is quiet when you enter; everyone must still be in the theater room or have gone to bed. You quickly pad down the stairs, the sound of your flip-flops echoing through the grand entryway as they slap against the marble staircase. Heading through the spacious kitchen you open the sliding glass doors and head out the back towards the pool. 

You see him as soon as you step onto the patio. He’s standing at the far end of the pool, a lit cigarette dangling from his perfect mouth. He glances at you, the cherry red tip pointed in your direction. He’s taken his hair down, the silver waves ripple over his shoulders. 

The pool is filled with lights dancing on the blue surface; little lotus flowers holding candles. A basket of beach towels sits next to the door and you grab one. Aemond watches your movements as you walk along the side of the pool coming closer to him.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him crush the cigarette under his shoe.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

“Only during times of stress.”

You nod, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You don’t ask him to follow you, but he does all the same as you continue to walk the edge of the pool until you reach the beginning of the yard. You walk on the grass until you reach the dimly lit cobblestone path you’d seen during the tour of Summerhall house Alicent had given the day you’d arrived. Fairy lights have been strung along the railing that leads down to a small private beach giving the path a feeling of perpetual summer. Aemond’s footsteps echo behind you sounding heavier than your own. 

As you arrive at the end of the steps you remove your shoes. Your feet sink into the sand, cooler now with the blazing summer sun not hanging overhead. 

“You shouldn’t swim at night,” Aemond comments.

“I’m not going to swim,” you tell him, placing your shoes on the last step, “Are you coming?”

Aemond hums, hesitating for a moment as he holds your gaze. He truly looks ethereal with the moonlight casting shadows along the angles of his face. That chiseled jaw, those striking cheekbones. His prominent long nose. He could have gone into modeling if not politics, that you’re sure of. 

You walk side by side further down the beach before you spread the towel and sit on top of it. You pat the spot beside you and he accepts the silent invitation to sit. For a moment neither of you speak, staring out at the waves that gently lap against the shore. The lights of the city are visible from here, just shiny little stars sparkling against the horizon. 

You can feel his gaze shift as he looks at you. What was it he said to you a few days ago?

You can’t fool me.

“I can speak to Daemon,” Aemond says softly, “Make sure he doesn’t…”

“Don’t bother,” you cut him off, “You and I are a ticking time bomb. It could have been anyone walking in on us.”

At least it was Daemon. If he releases it, he’ll spin it to make Aemond look like the sleaze; cheating on poor, doe-eyed Floris Baratheon. You don’t even want to think about the possibility of Otto or Alicent walking in on you. 

It’s always easier to scandalize women. 

If Daemon spoke to Rhaenyra, she’d make him leave your name out of it. Nameless, faceless. Just some girl. Curiosity gnaws at you. 

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” you ask him suddenly, “You could get on top of this before Daemon goes to the press. He’ll ruin you with this.”

“I’m not worried,” Aemond responds coolly, “I’m not scared of a little scandal.”

You think back to the stories you’d heard about him. The dutiful son with his sprinkle of bad decisions. Aemond cleans up his messes, unlike his elder. 

“I suppose your family is very protective of your reputation,” you agree, tucking your knees against your chest.

“You don’t have that sort of protection,” he says softly.

It’s true. The Targaryen and Hightower names are like royalty compared to everyone else. Sucking your lower lip between your teeth, you slowly shake your head. 

“No,” you agree, “I don’t.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” he clarifies, “I expect Aegon to win this campaign without the additional nonsense.”

You snort out a laugh. Even now he can’t help but try and push your buttons. It’s inevitable, the two of you. Always trying to one-up one another. 

“Yeah okay. Well, we’ll see about that. Besides, Rhaenyra’s numbers have increased steadily since the debate,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his. The small contact leaves a burning feeling where your skin meets his. 

“Don’t count your eggs before they hatch,” he softly teases.

“I know my chickens.”

Aemond frowns, giving you a quizzical look. “That’s not a saying.”

“Says who?” you ask, arching a brow at him. 

This is easy, this is good. Just banter. Just Aemond versus you. It’s much more simple when you’re on opposite sides of the playing field. 

“Surely someone,” he says leaning back against his hands.

The waves crash loudly against the rocks and seafoam sizzles against the sand. The moonlight reflects off of the top of the surf sending a silver trail down the middle of the water, splitting it neatly in two. 

“Why?” you softly ask, tapping your fingers against your calves.

“Why what?” Aemond asks.

“Why aren’t you going to say anything?”

Aemond stares at you, his gaze burning into the side of your face until you can’t stand it. Turning your head, you meet his heated gaze. 

“You know why.”

Your head tilts to the side, eyes not leaving his. “That’s a problem.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Aemond insists, “If we’re careful.” Aemond wets his lips, “What do you want?”

Your heart is beating so fast against your ribs it's almost painful. You place your palms against the towel, pushing against it trying to ground yourself. 

“This…��� you struggle to find the words, opting for another shake of your head, “This will never work. You and I; we hate each other.”

“Yes,” Aemond agrees, his hand moving on top of yours.

“And you’re engaged,” you continue as his fingers lace through yours. Oh gods. There it is. That ache deep inside of you; a bottomless pit of want that threatens to swallow you whole. 

“I’m engaged,” he agrees, reaching over to stroke your cheek, “And you’re with Jace.”

His thumb strokes your cheekbone, hand cradling your jaw. The action is affectionate and caring. It’s so tender, so endearing you almost burst into tears. 

“I’m with Jace,” it’s barely a whisper, “I’m with—” You don’t get a chance to finish. His mouth is on yours before Jace’s name leaves your lips. There’s only Aemond.

You fall into the familiar rhythm quickly as he climbs on top of you, kissing you all the while. The sounds of the waves are deafening, matching the beating of your heart, of blood rushing in your ears. It’s too much and not enough at the same time. You want to lose yourself in the sound, in the feeling of him on top of you, pressing against you. He’s everything. He’s all-consuming. 

It’s too late for anything else. 

You’ve already been devoured. 

The heat of the morning sun wakes you, a light sheen of sweat covering you. The side of your face itches and you bring a hand to it, brushing away some sand. Sand sticks to your legs and arms. Aemond lays beside you on his back, an arm thrown over his eye to block the sun. 

“We fell asleep,” you tell him, squinting at the rising sunlight.

Whirl. Click!

A noise startles you. Must be the birds. Pushing yourself into a seated position, you brush some sand from your arm. Aemond turns onto his side, throwing an arm lazily over your outstretched legs. His hand curls against the meat of your thigh causing you to chuckle.

“Someone’s needy,” you tease, combing some hair from his face. 

He growls his eye remaining shut, but the corner of his mouth quirks in a smile.

Whirl. Click! Whirl.

Craning your neck, you raise your arms above your head, yawning as you stretch. A sliver of flesh is exposed as you do so, and Aemond reaches his hand to grasp your waist, tugging you closer. You definitely shouldn’t have fallen asleep. Jace is probably worried sick. You pat your shorts. Shit. You’d left your phone as well.

“They’ll be looking for us,” you tell him, attempting to escape his grasp.

“Let them look,” he says, voice rough with sleep, as he pulls you close, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips.

Click!

You turn. There’s that noise again. As your ears adjust, you’re less sure that it’s simply the sounds of the birds rustling in their nests. The waves crash against the rocks, and you look over the dunes as the sea breeze rustles through them.

There it is. 

A photographer, laying on his belly in the dunes, camera held at the ready. Whirl. Click! Your heart drops into your stomach. You’re going to be sick, for real this time. 

You should have known.

Pushing away from Aemond, you pull your shirt down, dusting off the remaining sand.

“You’re a real fucking asshole,” you hiss, pulling the towel out from under him. 

Aemond frowns at the sudden change, watching as you shake the towel out before chucking it in his direction. He catches it, leaning back slightly, surprised at the force of your throw.

“What?” Aemond says, face a mask of confusion.

“Shame I wasn’t in some skimpy suit, bet the press would have a field day putting those photos side by side with you and Floris,” you tell him scoffing, “I should’ve fucking known better.”

He calls your name. You don’t turn back, shielding your face as you hear the click of the camera once more attempting to save whatever dignity you have left. You can hear Aemond struggle to sand as you move toward the stairs, slipping on your shoes. His hand wraps around your forearm as you begin to climb them, halting your steps. 

“This was not me,” he insists, “Look, Storm’s End yes, I did that but I had nothing to do with this—”

“I am such a fucking idiot,” you snap, ignoring him.

“I swear it-” You tug your arm away from his grasp, his expression crestfallen.

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised,” you tell him, laughing bitterly, “Like I didn’t know who I was dealing with.”

Aemond’s lips part, but he says nothing. You open your mouth to speak again.

Click! Whirl. Click!

“Fucking hells,” you mumble, turning away and running up the steps back towards the main house. 

Tears stream down your face, hot and wet as you continue to climb. They’ve already got their money shot. You won’t give them one of you crying as well.

#aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x female reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond/reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #Aemond Targaryen modern #modern au #modern aemond #modern hotd

[fandom-puff]

I have lots of smutty thoughts:

John Shelby is secretly a kinky fck with a massive dom side that would put Tommy to shame

Sirius Black is the biggest sub and has cum just by eating you eat out multiple times

Hotch is really vanilla until he meets you and realizes how absolutely filthy you are it ends with him taking a week off just so you two can fck uninterrupted and discover every kink he didn’t know he had

Omggg. I’ve put a ‘read more’ thing cos this is a bit longer!

Send smutty thoughts about fictional men x

John Shelby is one kinky motherfucker, and he’s definitely dominant in AND out of the bedroom. He adores rough, filthy sex, and loves seeing his cum splatters on your body, be it your belly, ass, tits, thighs, whatever. But what really makes him feral is seeing his cum seeping out from your cunt. Fuck, it gets him hard all over again, only this time he’ll fuck you through several orgasms, as even if he’s hard, it’ll be a while before he cums again. Not that you’re complaining obv. Definitely one to grab your cheeks and force you to look at him, telling his pretty girl that she’s gonna cum on his cock over and over, till he’s done with you, that his good girl can take it, can’t she?

——

Sirius black can be such a sub, and he’s definitely got a bratty streak to him. He’d DEFINITELY cum from eating you out, grinding his hips into the bed, rutting like a horny little puppy. Rather fitting really. His eyes would roll back so much, but when you do see his actual irises and pupils, his pupils are blown so wide they almost eclipse his irises completely. And his pale face is flushed the prettiest pink, a little sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, his black hair sticking to his face as he dives deeper into your cunt, hardly stopping breathe.

——

Aaron Hotchner is rather vanilla, given he and Hailey didn’t experiment much. Not that that means he’s bad at sex- I envisage him as someone who wants to make sure his girl finishes at least once or twice before he even thinks of his own release. But when you approach him, your face aflame and barely able to hold eye contact, about your filthy fantasies, he’s taken aback. But hearing that you want him to overpower you, to slap you around a little, to have complete control over your pleasure, you bet your ass he’s doing his research. Absolute consent king. And thus ensues a rather extensive regime of kink exploration, discovering what gets the two of you going.

#smutty thoughts about fictional men #Aaron hotchner smut #Aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron hotchner thoughts #John Shelby x reader #John Shelby smut #John Shelby thoughts #sirius black x reader #Sirius black smut #Sirius black thoughts #Harry Potter thoughts #pesky blinders thoughts #criminal minds thoughts

[joonipertree]

Pretty Summer Dress, Makes Your Heart Melt

Tags: Bonten! Mikey × AFAB reader. hurt/comfort. Insecure reader in pretty dress. fluff to smut. rough mikey. Dom Mikey. fucking you in a dress. Touch starved Mikey and Reader. Closed off Mikey

Manjiro hadn't been the same for years, you had accepted that. His blank stares and minimal talking had been rectified with his protective arm in front of you or how he shares his food. Maybe you missed when you two were kids and he drowned you in affection or talked your ear off. But you were content simply from the fact that he was a part of your life and you were a part of his

You two did your own thing, in the same space and because that had been how it has been for years.....it became comfortable. Of course, the lack of physical touch got to you but it's not like he never touched you, just that he never seemed to make much of a show with it.

But okay, fine, you would get off on his thigh once in a while and cling to him while he kissed you chastely. He would curl up in your arms to sleep or lean against you when his bones were tired. He let you burrow yourself into his body and it was enough because your definition of a relationship had changed along with the two of you.

But sometimes, you're standing in front of the mirror, wearing the prettiest floral dress you've ever worn and you want your boyfriend to fawn over you. It flowed down to your ankles, hugged your chest and when you twirled, the fabric rippled around you. You were pretty, you were beautiful and Manjiro was fucking lucky to have you.

But all he did was give you a once over and nodded. Nodding was the most he did sometimes, eyes bleary eyed and dead. And you could just accept that maybe that's what came with years of being together, that you two weren't in your honeymoon phase anymore.

That you didn't need his validation.

And you didn't.

But you worked hard on your gentle makeup and wind swept hair. You saw the dress of your dreams, tried it on and danced because it felt like you. You looked like a fucking cottagecore fairy that graced everyone with your presence. You wanted to go in a field of flowers and feel like their princess.

So you did, you invited Mikey but he was busy. You went alone with a basket full of food and a blanlet; a tripod and camera. You ate well, read a book, listened to music and took the prettiest pictures ever because self care.

You came home and uploaded them everywhere before your insecurities could nitpick everything out. Before your brain decided to interfere and say that you were ugly. You weren't.

The comments were nice, many and full of exclamation marks. You were showered in praise like you deserved. But it didn't matter to you when the one person you wanted a compliment from, said nothing at all.

That dead eyed, ice cold motherfucker.

You stomped towards him, hair messy and lipstick off with your eye make up smudged. The dress still flowed around you, you felt the silk caress your bare legs. You were still the powerful fairy that made the world fall in love with them, but this time your lips were set in a cold hard line and you were beginning to wonder if the guy you loved even loved you anymore.

He looked up when you loomed over him, eyes peering as he stayed in a perpetual state between dream and reality. He looked paler, eyebags even more prominent. The white hair didn't do anything to make him look livelier. Manjiro laid there and stared at you.

"What do you think of my dress?" You whispered, fight leaving your body.

"Pretty." His cracked, dry voice murmured out.

It shouldn't have but it warmed you.

"Am I pretty?"

"Very."

The tears started and didn't stop, rolling down your cheeks in clusters with a quivering lip and barely opened eyes. Manjiro sat up immediately, eyes widening ever so slightly that only you could've picked it up.

"Do you still love me?"

You've never seen him move as fast as he did in years. His hands grappling for your wrists and pulling you into his lap. It was familiar yet not lived in. Your thighs squeezed him tight as whimpers left your lips. He didn't hesitate to wipe every tear away.

"You are the only person in this world that I am selfish for."

You held him tight and you cried more because even before you asked you knew he loved you. Sano Manjiro wasn't the type to stop loving so easily. And even with the scarcity of affection, he always held your safety and love to the highest regard.

"I know you dont- hic like showing emotions but I just don't know what to believe. Do you not feel any-anything for me anymore?" You sobbed into his shoulder.

"Baby, whatever the fuck is left in me is all you. I've been-" You can feel his breath shudder, "waiting for you to leave me. You never do. I've been waiting for you to show you're miserable but you always- how do you look like you still adore me?"

"I do adore you," You cried even more, "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"You'd be happier without---"

"Shut the fuck up, we aren't arguing about this again. I just want you to stay with me. Please, please, please just stay."

"You could die," he whispered, "I dunno how I keep you around. But you know, people always die around me."

"I don't wanna grieve you, I know I will if you leave." You murmured back.

"Living is better for you."

"I'd be miserable. You'd be miserable. You already---"

"You'd get over me." He didn't mention himself. He wasn't gonna say shit about him getting over you.

"You're lying to yourself."

"I wanna keep you."

"Keep me."

His hands made it under your dress, over your hip and scratching along your spine. You mewled, clinging to him and rutting yourself against him.

Needy, you were so needy.

"I won't be gentle."

"Fuck gentle, ruin me." You gasped out.

Your underwear was ripped in an instant, dress flourishing around the two of you like a halo untouched.

He fucked you with your tits hanging out and cock stuffed till it was almost impossible to breathe. He fucked you with his mouth biting and bruising your chest and hands groping your ass. He did all the work, rammed into you hard as his only driving force were your moans. He fucked you and even when you came, he didn't stop and you cried pretty for him.

This was him trying, apologising in the kisses he peppered on every inch of your skin. Turned you around so he can go along your spine, lips sticky and causing you to moan even more.

He fucked you and he could feel the edge of the dark impulse coming forward, only stopping because the warmth of your hands were like the sun that kept the darkness away. It came around his sidesx in his harsher thrusts and biting mouth but fuck, you felt safe and good and loved.

All in a pretty dress he saw and adored the first time he laid his eyes on it.

#tokyorev headcanons #mikey headcanon #tokyo manji gang #mikey x reader #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x you #mikey imagines #mikey x you #tokyorev smut #sano manjiro

[wannaeatramyeon]

Can I request for Taehoon and Seongjoon NSFW??👀👀👀

Black Anon

Here's a cookie for you 🍪

Hi black anon! Thanks for the cookie and the ask! Taehoon came (heh) pretty easily but Seongjun will be in a part 2 unfortunately.

Seong Taehoon x Reader: NSFW hc

This guy just screams pretty. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty skin. You know where this is going.

You bet he's got a pretty dick too.

Good god does he know how to use it. You would never have guessed he was so inexperienced, but you've seen how abhorrent and prickly his personality can be at first. A deterrent for anyone that even tries to get close and in his pants.

And his moans? The prettiest, bar none. And he will blush furiously in the afterglow if you tell him and call you cringe for even saying something like that. Though if anything, he'll take that into consideration and might be a bit louder next time too.

The best is when Taehoon is fucking you, and the orgasm catches him unexpectedly. Like a rupture of a dam. He lets out the prettiest, sluttiest groan you have ever heard. Especially if he has to cut himself off from degrading you.

Oh yeah, degradation? He has a thing for that. It didn't actually start off as anything conscious. Just Taehoon being Taehoon. Awfully mean and condescending, that includes when you're in the middle of sex too. And then when he felt how wet you got and your walls clench around him as he berates you? Guess this is a thing now.

However, the words aren't too harsh. For him to even sleep with you, he has to like you a fucking lot. Taehoon does not do casual.

So yes. He will degrade you and prod enough with his words that some stuff sting in a good way (like the first rush of cold air after he spanks your ass), but nothing over the line or that crosses your boundaries.

Mr. Live However You Want likes to to fuck you anywhere, any place, assuming you're ok with it.

More than anything though, he wants to fuck you in the Taekwondo studio. Just imagining you bent over on the mats in his favourite place makes him a little feral.

And don't worry, it'll definitely happen at some point. Unfortunately for Taehoon that the days after that event, practicing with his dad standing right there also makes his brain malfunction.

Hansu being in the same spot where Taehoon has railed you as you're screaming out, drawing waves of pleasure with his tongue and fingers. Gross. Yeah the studio does a 180 and becomes a turn off.

It never happens again. But he does have a soft spot for that corner when he fucked you up against the wall, and the mat by the sandbag where you held on for dear life as he took you from behind.

Surprisingly sweet and thoughtful with aftercare. Doesn't need you to even ask. Taehoon is very efficient. Here's a towel, here's some water. Pulls you into his arms after you're both cleaned up. Silently observing you and checking over to make sure he didn't hurt you or go too far.

Think about it though, why wouldn't Taehoon be thoughful with aftercare. You just let him do that to you.

And, as mentioned, he likes you a lot to be even in bed with you. Probably has no qualms telling you he loves you mid sex. Just don't throw it back in his face, or he will be the sulkiest motherfucker ever and it will be a long time until you hear those words again.

#taehoon seong #taehoon x reader #viral hit #viral hit manhwa #viral hit x reader #viral hit webtoon #viral hit headcanons #how to fight #how to fight manhwa #how to fight webtoon #how to fight headcanons #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehoon #seong taehun #seong taehun x reader #taehun seong #taehun seong x reader #wannaeatramyeon

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER ONE - TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

  I usually don’t become swoon by seeing attractive women. Working security at a luxury club, I come across them almost every day. At one point in my life, I even slept with them for money because I needed survival after the Zen’in Family disowned me about twenty years ago.

But when I stare in the direction of the bar, I’m convinced I’m looking at one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen in my life. 

 She’s fucking gorgeous. The deepest and richest shade of brown. Thick curls falling to her shoulders. Full thighs that are being constricted by the material of her denim mini skirt. 

 God, I don’t fucking care if I sound like a pervert, but every time I saw her cross and uncross her legs, I hoped to see a sneak of her panties. 

 I don’t care to be in a relationship. 

 I just had to fuck her. Hard and slow until she’s screaming my name. 

 Insta lust isn’t really my thing. However, my cock is feeling extremely uncomfortable in my pants right now. 

 “Fushiguro!” Shiu Kong’s voice blares through my ears. 

  Shit, I forgot I wasn’t alone. 

 He continues, “You heard anything I said or you’re too busy drooling over that pretty girl at the bar?” He points with his chin, taking a drag of his third cigarette tonight. 

 That fucker needs to give it a break. 

 “I’m not fucking drooling, Kong,” I answered. “And what did you say?”

  He chuckles. “I asked, are you going to consider that contract I gave you?”

 “No. You know I don’t do that kind of shit anymore. I have a kid.”

 “And how’s your relationship with Megumi going?”

 I hate using the term friend , but Shiu Kong would be the closest thing that I would have of that sort. We met back in Tokyo after I left the Zen’in Family.

 Our friendship consists of business, banter, and talking shit to one another. He’s not a bad guy. Pretty decent and not as annoying as other people. And I guess you can say I kind of owe him since he helped watch Megumi after his mother passed. 

 He’s been in the States for a few days now to visit, trying to convince me to take this damn contract. But he knows I left that part of me back in Japan.

 “It’s going,” I finally responded. “He’s still adjusting to being here.”

 “English working well for him? You’re helping him I assume.” 

 I give him an annoyed look. “Trying to make sure I’m being a dad?”

 “Someone has to,” he says, boringly, while putting out his cigarette to like another one. “Maybe you should get a girlfriend. Make her a housewife. Being a single parent to a fifteen-year-old boy isn’t the easiest.”

 I let out a mixture of a scoff and chuckle. “And how would you fucking know?”

 “Considering that I helped take care of your boy, I would know.”

 “Hm,” I say. 

 “And I’m frankly tired of having to babysit your old ass, too. You’re forty-two, Fushiguro. I can’t be your lover forever.” 

 And here goes the shit talking. 

 “Funny. I don’t remember you having anyone.”

 He smirks. “I have my options.”

 “Yeah, whatever.”

 My attention is back to the woman at the bar, and this time she’s not alone. Some guy occupied the seat next to her, and by the looks of it, she’s annoyed. I’m almost positive that he’s hitting on her. I mean, who wouldn’t? Her beauty steals the attention of the bar. Still, even I know when to read the fucking room. 

 If a woman isn’t interested, then she isn’t interested. You can tell by their body language and how they engage with you. 

 Her body is telling him to fuck off, and she’s doesn’t look like she’s engaging either. And despite that, the fucker can’t keep his hands to himself. 

 You would think the other men seeing what’s happening would be decent enough to fucking defend her but they’re just sitting around with stupid grins on their faces. 

 Kong was talking some type of shit before I got up from the table and walked toward the bar. 

 I had two reasons to go over there. 

 One, to get that motherfucker away from her, and two, my selfish intent to see how pretty she is up close. 

 The closer I got to the bar, their conversation became more coherent. 

 “Come on, sweetheart. Why are you playing hard to get?”

 “You don’t know how to fucking take no for an answer?” 

  Her voice… 

 Get it together, Fushiguro. 

 “I do, but this feels like a game of cat and mouse.” He’s definitely drunk. 

 “If-”

 “She’s not interested,” I interrupted. 

 The moment I uttered those words, it’s like on cue, her and I locked eyes. Her hues are the color of coffee with a touch of milk. I drink them in. The almond shape. The small creases underneath. The length of her lashes. I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at them. 

 Then, her face. It has this type of softness yet definition. Those full lips that are brown and pink, even prettier up close. 

 No. She’s more than pretty. 

 She’s beautiful. Sexy. Tempting. 

 It’s like I almost forgot what I came here for before this shithead opened his mouth again. 

 “And who the fuck are you?” He’s trying to remain calm. Confident, even. But I’ve been told how intimidating my presence can be for people. It’s clearly affecting him. 

 “The guy that’s fucking telling you she’s not interested and to leave her the fuck alone,” I bit out. “You look desperate.”

 He gets off the stool to buck up to me. 

 Funny. 

 “What happens if I don’t?”

 “I don’t think you want to find out.” Is all I say to him. 

 This guy is about three inches, maybe four inches shorter than me. He’s intoxicated. He is barely confident in the words he’s saying to me. But somehow he thinks he wants to find out if he doesn’t listen to my warning. 

 The other pieces of shit that didn’t say anything listen into our heated conversation. I even feel her eyes still on me. Why am I being overprotective over a woman I don’t know? Like she’s mine? Not sure, but I am. 

 Though, it looks like he made the right decision by walking away, his friends going right along with him. 

 “You okay?” I ask her, after the drunken fuck leaves. 

 “I am. Thank you for defending me.”

 Velvety. Smooth. Soft. Raspy. Mature. All the words that come to mind when I hear her voice. I feel the fucking hair on the back of my neck standing up. I just know she would sound so sweet while taking me. 

  Fushiguro .

 I know. I’m a pervert. Fucking shoot me for being attracted to her. 

 I nod and say nothing else to her, beginning to walk away but she stops me. 

 “What’s your name?” she asks, smiling. 

 “Toji Fushiguro.”

 “Do you usually give out your full name like that, Toji Fushiguro?” 

 Charming, I think. I give her a small smile. 

 “And yours?”

 “Y/N. Just Y/N, for now.”

 I quip a brow. “You say for now, are you suggesting there will be a later?”

 “Hm, it depends. Do you want to sit down and keep me company? Your scary boyfriend demeanor can probably keep away the rest of the creeps.”

 “Scary? Do I scare you?”

 She laughs, and it’s like music to my ears. “No, Toji. You don’t scare me.”

 My name from her lips sounds like pure sin. It drips like honey. I want to taste how it sounds when she’s moaning it. 

 “I wouldn’t mind, but I have a friend-” I look back to the table where Kong and I were at to see that he left. 

 And I’m pretty sure he didn’t cover the fucking bill. 

She shrugs. “I don’t mind your friend joining. As long as he’s not weird, which I’m assuming he’s not since you associate yourself with him. The more, the merrier.” 

 “Looks like he left.”

 “Then it looks like you’re going to keep me company.”

 Now, she’s not asking me. She’s telling me. 

  Shit . 

 I have no reason to protest, so I fill the seat next to her. The bartender comes to me to take my order, but I tell him just a refill on ginger ale and remind him I have a tab open. 

 “You don’t drink?” 

 “Nah, not really. I don’t like the taste of alcohol. It’s not the type of burn that I like,” I tell her. 

 “What kind of burn do you like, Toji Fushiguro?” Is she…

 “You flirting with me, Y/N?”

 She smiles. “Just making conversation. That’s all.”

 “Hm. Well, to answer your question, the workout burn feels good. Help clears my mind.”

 “You have a lot going on in your mind?”

 “I’m a forty-two and a single dad. My mind feels like a Formula One track.”

 She giggles. “I can only imagine. How old is your…”

 “Son, and he’s fifteen. 

 “I don’t have kids, but I teach at a high school. Teenagers are definitely not a walk in the park.”

 “A classroom full of kids sounds like hell.”

 This time her laugh is louder and clearer than before. 

 “I swear it’s not that bad. I used to teach elementary school kids. They are a bit more handful since they’re younger. I was their temporary mom for the day,” she explains. “Teaching isn’t the easiest, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

 “I see you’re very passionate about it.”

 “I am.” Y/N takes a swig of her martini, licking the sugar off her lips that coats them. And like the creep she doesn’t think I am, I stare at that pretty mouth of hers. 

 A visual of Y/N on her knees with her full lips wrapped around my cock plays in my mind. It’s like she knows what I’m thinking because when she looks at me after putting down her drink, she shies away but quickly gathers herself. 

 “So, uhm, what do you do?”  

 “I work at a luxury club. VIP security,” I answer. 

 “Very fitting.”

 “How so?”

 “You ask me if you scare me. I said no, but you give off protective vibes. It’s only right to put a good trait to use to make money, no?”

 I hum, taking a sip of my ginger ale. “I guess you’re right.”

 Over the course of hours, Y/N and I carry conversation. Talking to her feels… nice. Easy, almost. Like the more we talk, the more familiar she becomes. I’m not into that artificial crap, but I feel like I’ve spoken to her before. 

 Like I knew her in another lifetime. 

 Usually, I talk about myself when I’m talking to people, especially women. However, with Y/N? I listen to her. The words she says. Her opinions about insightful topics. She’s breathtaking. Smart. Addicting. 

 My cock isn’t aching only from her looks, but also from the high I feel from her mind. 

 I sound like a sap. I know I do. It’s just… I haven’t felt this way since my wife died seven years ago.

  Maybe you could try again.  

 Absolutely not. My heart and any kind of decency I had left was buried in the grave next to my wife. 

 There’s nothing wrong with a good conversation before an attempted fuck, so that’s all I’m doing. 

 That’s what I’m trying to convince myself, at least. 

 “So, Toji, you from around here?” 

 “Nah. Born in Japan. I’ve only been in the States for three years with my kid.”

 “What about your son’s mother? She didn’t move with you?” She questions. 

 I toy with the black band that I still keep on my finger. “No. She moved somewhere I can’t go, unfortunately.”

 “Where is—Oh…” Before asking her question, she realized what I meant. “I’m so sorry, Toji. I shouldn’t have invaded like that.”

 “Nah, it’s okay. It… was a while ago.”

 “Is that why you said your mind feels like a Formula One track?”

 I manage to let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yeah. Her death affected me and my son badly, but we’re handling it differently.”

 “Not everyone's grieving process is the same,” she reassures. 

 “Right, but does it normally cause your kid to hate you?”

 Why am I saying this? Why am I showing my vulnerability to a woman I just met two hours ago? In the middle of a fucking bar for Christ’s sake. I can’t even blame it on the alcohol because I don’t drink. 

 All I wanted to do was fuck Y/N until she’s screaming my name, but that sole intention went completely out the door the more we talked. 

 My slight insecurity from my vulnerability isn’t even because of Y/N. She doesn’t look bothered or taken off guard from my confession. She just waits for me to talk… like she wants to listen to me. 

 She turns her body around to face me and while doing so, our knees brush. I don’t know if she felt that slight electricity when making contact, but I did. Hopefully she just has a good way of masking her reactions. 

 “Why do you think your son hates you?” 

 I shrug. “We’re just not as close as we used to be. It feels like his mom was the glue that kept us together. Then, when she died, so did my bond with Megumi.”

 A soft smile of pain shows on her face. “Megumi… that means blessings . She picked it?” 

 “I did, because that’s what he feels like.”

 “Hm, I see,” she says, simply. “I’m not a therapist, but I wouldn’t automatically assume Megumi hates you. Like I said, grief is different for everyone. I’m pretty sure it can cause distance between loved ones, too. I would say he’s still adjusting. Just like you are.”

 “Sure you’re not a therapist?”

 She pats my thighs without realizing what that does to me. “Nope, just a high school reading teacher.”

 “Sorry guys. We’re about to close. Mind paying your tab?” The bartender says to us. 

 Were we talking for that long? Guess that happens when conversation is good.

 “Ah okay.” Y/N reaches for purse to pull out her wallet, but mine is already out, giving enough cash to cover both of our bills with a tip. “You didn’t have to do that, Toji.”

 “Maybe I wanted to?”

 She doesn’t bother to argue with me. “Well— thank you.”

 “Let me walk you to your car?”

 “Oh, I don’t drive when I go out. Never know how much you’re going to drink.”

 “Okay, call your ride share and I’ll wait with you.”

 Y/N nods and starts walking towards the exit. I can’t help but take a look at her ass. So fat and naturally shaped. Her legs look so smooth. Thick. I want them to wrap around my waist while I pound into her. 

 And don’t fucking get me started on the top she’s wearing that shows a peak of her belly. I can tell she’s not wearing a bra.

Fuck, Y/N. 

 Why is looking at her making me sexually frustrated?

 Typically, I’m direct about my intentions. If the woman wants to fuck, cool. If not, also cool. But for some reason I can’t open my mouth to ask. My dick presses against my pants and I’m glad I wore black tonight rather than my normal grey sweats. 

 “Looks like my ride is about five minutes away,” she says. “I had a really good time talking to you, Toji. Your company wasn’t bad.”

 “Better than that motherfucker from before?” I ask.

 She rolls her eyes at the thought of him. “Way better. Gosh, that guy was so fucking annoying. He does that every time I come here. I’m hoping since you showed up, he won’t be an issue anymore.”

 “He won’t.”

  She arches her brow. “Why so sure?”

 “I think I made my scary boyfriend message clear,” I joke. 

 “Ha, ha, real funny.” Silence is now between us. We look at each other, and on her face is a soft smile while mine is probably the same. 

 Unlike before, Y/N doesn’t shy away. Instead, she speaks. 

 “Can I be honest?” 

 “Sure.”

 “I want to kiss you, but I’m not sure if it would be appropriate,” she admits. 

 “And why wouldn’t it be?”

 “Well, you vented to me about your late wife, which is perfectly fine. I appreciate you being that comfortable with me. I just don’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability.”

 I chuckle. “You can’t take advantage of me.”

 She places her hands on her hips, shifting her weight onto one leg. “Is that your way of consenting to a kiss?” 

 “Can I be honest, too?” She nods. “I want to do more than just kiss you, but I would be no different from that shithead.”

 “No, you would. The difference is you’re not a creep and I’m consenting to your honesty, which I’m attracted to.” Y/N closes the space between us. Even with heels, she still looks up to me because of my height. “Consent is sexy.”

 “I agree,” I affirmed, cuffing around her chin to tilt higher. The whiff of her sweet alcoholic breath fills my senses, and that alone can make me drunk. 

 Her breath hitches. “Do you?” 

 “I do.”

 “Kiss me, Toji.”

 And I do. I kiss her hard. Aggressively. Passionately that has my blood rushing straight to my groin. Y/N’s lips are so fucking soft, sweet, succulent, every descriptor you can think of while kissing someone as pretty as her. 

 I force her mouth with my own, licking around to explore and get a better taste of her. She whimpers and I utter fuck from how sexy she sounds. That alone can tell me she’s probably needy, proving my point that she would take my cock in her pussy like I’m all she knows. 

 Like I give a fuck about us being in the middle of the street, making out like we’re horny college kids. I want to feel more of her, this fucking body of hers that I know I will have wet dreams about and fist my cock to in the shower when I wake up the next morning.

 “Y/N, can I–” 

 “Stop talking,” she whispers. It’s like Y/N knew what I was going to ask because she cut me off by grabbing my hands to place on her ass so I could squeeze.

 Fuck, it’s so soft and big. It feels jelly and perfect in my hands. While I busy myself with my own, her hands slip through my locks to deepen our kiss. Her full lips overpower mine, sucking and biting on my bottom lip.

 It’s not a want, but I need to fuck her.

 Now. 

 “Let me fu-” And before I was able to ask, the honking of her rideshare interrupted our heated kiss, reminding us we’re not alone.

 We break apart and ogle at each other. Those pretty fucking eyes roars with pure lust and hunger. Her lips are swollen, gloss completely gone from my excessive sucking. 

 My hand is still at her ass while the other feathers along her collarbone and the mountain of her breasts, causing her breaths to shallow. I pull her closer to me so she can feel what she did to me.

 Again, the driver honks the car and I’m two seconds away from breaking his window if he doesn’t fucking wait. 

 “I can come over?” I ask.

 “I want you to, but I can’t. Not tonight,” she declines. “School night. I’m already out later than I planned. Now it’s going to be harder for me to go to sleep after-”

 “This.” I wrap my hand around her throat to give her a quick sensual kiss.

 “Yes,” she breathes, squeezing my arms. “After that.” 

 Y/N hesitantly breaks away from me to head into the backseat of the car. I open the door for her, but before she goes in, I grab her arm to pull back into my chest so I can kiss her–again. 

 She’s just so fucking addicting

 “Toji, I have to go,” she tells me with a smile on her face. 

 “Alright, alright.” I let her go so she can get in the car and roll down the window. “You say not tonight. So when? “Hm, I’ll let you know,” she teases. The driver got sick of our shit, so he slowly started driving away but kept close enough for me to hear Y/N. “Good night, Toji Fushiguro.”

 “Night, Y/N.” And she’s gone, leaving me in front of the bar with a hard dick and pornographic thoughts. 

 Y/N is so fucking sexy, and she’s a good woman. Has a career that she loves. A good listener and honest without coming off as judgemental. Not like it would hurt me if she did, but I didn’t realize how calming it felt to talk to a stranger about my lack of confidence with being a single dad. She’s almost like a ray of… sunshine. 

 Too perfect for me.

 We didn’t even exchange numbers, so the likelihood of me fucking her is slim to none. 

 Oh well. Maybe I was only meant to meet her to hear her reassurance and taste her lips… feel her ass… 

 Shit, my dick is harder than before.

 Jacking off isn’t going to work. Not tonight . 

 I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts to see who can help alleviate my pleasure. 

 Maybe I’ll run into Y/N someday. Hopefully in this lifetime. 

NEXT CHAPTER

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #toji angst #jjk angst

[bloodyserratus]

sneaky link!toji x fem!reader tw: smut, degradation, size kink, angst. wc: 330-ish

toji cast a sidelong glance at you. he really wasn’t sure how he ended up in this predicament with you. i mean, look at you.

you smiled, bright and genuine, as some guy teased you about something or the other. your eyes were practically shining at the motherfucker.

toji’s upper lip twitched. tch.

exactly how it came to be that toji got to have you on his cock every few nights or so…he really wondered if this was your cursed technique.

you’d made it very clear that no one was to know, but it was even clearer to him that you loved being split open and railed by his sizable cock. you loved when he toyed with your clit lazily until you were overstimulated and shuddering. you loved when you laid back on the bed and toji fucked himself deep into your throat. you loved when he hauled his massive body over yours and pinned you down, rutting himself deep into your inevitably creamy cunt.

“t-t-...toji,” you’d pant in his ear as your nails raked scratches down his wide back. you’d whimper and whine like the best, prettiest little cumdump he’d ever had.

“too big,” you’d clench around him when he first slid into you, but your coy eyes gave you away. you wanted toji to make it fit…and he always did.

he rolled his eyes when yours creased into semicircles…the sweetest eye smile. little did they know that behind that facade was one the most depraved little sluts that toji had ever had the privilege of sheathing himself in.

for a moment he considered throwing you over his shoulder and bringing you home. he shook his head. that wouldn’t do. it was only ever on your terms anyways.

“well,” he said to no one in particular and stood from his seat. he stretched ostentatiously for you before taking his leave. he wasn’t going to sit around and watch you flirt with some asshole, especially when he couldn’t even do anything about it.

#IDK what i'm doing with formatting yet so don't perceive me #toji smut #toji x reader #toji blurb #toji fushiguro #jjk smut #toji headcannon #toji drabbles #serrated writing

[princessleechan]

"You're the Man" Profiles #1

Masterlist

⚽synopsis: After your university cut your soccer team to prioritize the men’s team, it’s natural you have a falling out with your then soccer-star-player boyfriend and impersonate your twin brother at the rival university to play on their men’s team. Wait, it’s not? Oh well.

⚽pairing: afab!reader x ot13 (??? Member)

⚽genre: humor, romance, crack, eventual smut

⚽series tags: MDNI, she’s the man au, revenge au???, cross dressing!reader, reader identifies anything but male, sports au, queer themes, university au, love-whatever the fuck kind of shape, tags will vary per chapter

⚽Tag list: @90s-belladonna @the-boy-meets-evil @lirtha97 @hipsdofangirl @justineasian @kwanisms @multi-kpop-fanfics @pantumin @wooahaeproductions @mayashu @shuasdraftsalt @lone-lone-ranger @headlockimnida @horanghaezone @haolistic @porridgesblog @jeonjungkaka @luchiet @salmisu @ujimatchaaa @skzdesi @cheoliehansolie @vlbii @myghobi @sisterofsomeone @joonsytip @gyublues @alltheshineofthestars-blog @randomworker @isabellah29 @savgogh @too-many-kpop-hubands @kotarousproperty @shingsoluvely @kamabokogonpachro @mxnhoeuwu @skittlez-area512 @seccdlurv @softycheol @chisskaa @mochiteez @theyluvfrankocean @lllucere @xyren1 @thomawifey

Y/n (reader): Sporty soccer babe with a shitty boyfriend (now ex) that finds supporting their soccer career as productive as watching paint dry. So, their take on revenge is joining the rival soccer team to prove only to him, but yourself, and any misogynist piece of shit that men aren’t the only guys that can play soccer like Beckham. You just needed an in on this team, a cover to join. Luckily, you had one numbnut brother who couldn’t care less about being around on his college campus and just so happens to be getting out of town.

Yeonam: Twin brother of Y/n. Uncannily similar looking to his sibling. Same height, similar build (besides the obvious breasts), but could not be more different from them. While you are the athlete, he’s the musician and typical rebel child with big dreams and a one-way ticket to Japan to perform with his rock band. He just needs someone to cover him while he does that.

Seokmin : ex-boyfriend to our main character. Plays soccer like a champion besides that one time that rival player hit his balls so hard with the soccer ball it made him cry and pee in pain for a month. Thinks he loves his then partner, but not enough to respect them as a fellow athlete or human being. Needs to be put in his place to learn the world does not revolve around him.

Mingyu: striker/center forward of his soccer team. Knows his way around a ball but not his way around his feelings for a pretty girl with eyes that sparkle like the night sky. Although he’s super conventionally attractive and sculpted like a motherfucking statue in a museum, he remains a humble and all round nice guy. He is confused though about why his new roommate looks like someone who belongs in anywhere but a soccer field.

Melli: Yeonam’s girlfriend and debutant, prettiest poison you’ve ever seen.  She’s as pretty as she is nasty. Someone who thinks things should come easy to her and has never been told no in her life. Yeonam may be her boyfriend but that doesn’t mean she’ll change her attitude around you, even if you’re his twin. She has a way of getting what wants and nothing is too big getting in her way. She’ll grind it under her feet into sand.

Chae: Local campus cutie that’s confident in who she is and sees something in our main character. Something different about him, how sweet he is, how unlike the other guys he is. There’s a gentle masculinity she can’t comprehend and has to know–no, has to have. She must have this man, but why doesn’t he want her like everyone else? She knows she’s pretty enough, she knows she’s smart enough, she knows she's desirable enough. What will it take to have his attention?

#svthub #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen #seventeen smau #seventeen fake texts #seventeen x reader #​plc.smaus💕 #seventeen series #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #joshua hong #wen junhui #kwon soonyoung #lee jihoon #xu minghao #lee seokmin #kim mingyu #boo seungkwan #chwe hansol #nana writes #lee Chan #YTM

[chaewonshoney]

—SWEET (S)TALKER –s.jy

₊˚⊹ pairing: idol!bf!jake x gn!reader ⭒ warnings: swearing, mentions of stalking, petnames. word count: 604. LIB! ｡⋆˚ genre: fluff, drabble, est. relationship. songs to listen while reading: Bam Yang Gang by BIBI ⤷ ˖ ֗𖦹 a/n: none!

After the whole day at college, you are currently walking to your apartment. the streets are quiet and the rain seems to have stopped, as the last drops slowly drip from the trees, the roads are slippery, faded moonlight illuminated the path up ahead. The stars seemed to have been dimmed by the grey clouds ahead and all was silent... save for the sound the grasshoppers chirring and soft footsteps on the wet sidewalks. Your heart was far from caring if someone was  following you from behind. Feeling the melancholy creeping your chest, you took a long breath. Jake a.k.a the love of your life has certainly been very busy with his schedule to see you or spend some time with you. But he didn't forget to send you the good mornings and good night to his prettiest girl so far, yet you were... Well you felt greedy at this point, but you had the right anyway.

Listening to the argument between your two selves, you suddenly felt a vague presence of something, more like someone behind you... Being afraid enough to look behind, you focus on the shadow of that "someone" on the sidewalk, his reflection seemed more like oddly familiar and comforting now. Shutting your eyes close, you take some deep breaths to turn to face the presence...

Shit? Why is this guy running towards you? Without having any time to think properly, you start running towards the front direction too, are you scared? Kind of. But are you having fun? Yes.

After running in the literal street like two cat and mouse, you stop to catch on your breath, the stalker— well, shit, you can't name him anything else right? Your grip tightens on your knees as you exhale some more, and the guy is already close to approaching you—

"JAKE YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER!!!" You yell at the guy, well, your boyfriend who wasn't really supposed to be the stalker, no? "Whoa whoa whoa, princess! Calm down? It's just me? Remember? The pretty boyfriend of yours?" He holds his arms up in surrender as you smack his shoulder softly enough but he was dramatic anyway, "Shut the fuck up, will ya?" You roll your eyes at the sight of him dramatically putting his hand on his chest as if he was hurt, "Shit, Princess! That hurts~ Do you know where that hurts?" Giving you the puppy eyes, he reaches for your tiny hands to his chest, "Literally here. Straight in the heart," But to his misfortune, he only gets the stink eyes back from his way-too-soft girlfriend, "Don't even try that," "try what, love?" You roll your eyes to hide the shy, bright shade of scarlet rising on your cheeks, "Try sweet talking with me, definitely not when you were some sort of stalking me as well. And to let you know, I am thinking of banning the L-word for you," "Oh my, holy shit, Y/N, don't even think of it! I don't want to know how it feels to be a monastic. And I wasn't stalking you, my love, it's not my fault if my gee eff is a half-blind Dora the Explorer, right?" He brings you closer to him while yapping— well, saying all these to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he talks, "I am NAWT half-blind Dora the Explorer, Sim Jaeyun!!!" "Not the government name, Princess. How "the love of my life" sounds?" "I am not falling for your sweet talking today." He wiggles his eyebrows with the knowing playful expression, "Wanna bet?"

Oh, this wasn't supposed to be it.

©chaewonshoney 2024, all rights reserved. Reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated <3

#jake enhypen #jake x y/n #jake sim #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #jake x reader #enhypen soft hours #enhypen #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #jake fluff

[disasterofastory]

Boys (Stucky x Reader)

Boys students!Stucky x professor!Reader Warnings: teacher-student relationship, smut

Summary: You are their favorite professor.

A/N: The “boys” are in their early twenties. Kinktober 2022

You dimmed the lights long hours ago when you said goodbye to your students, and they left the lecture hall, letting the heavy door close behind them with a loud thud. You, on the other hand, stayed to start reading the essays and taking care of the administrations. At home, you would do anything but work. But it's okay. You like it when the large building empties and calms down after a long week of rush and ruckus. Sometimes you even forget you teach young adults, especially when Halloween comes and every one of them is excited and ready for the endless parties and fake haunted houses.

You are hunched over the desk under the lamp's light on the corner. Your hands are hoover above the keyboard of your laptop, staring at the bright screen and long sentences that blur together the more you read. The back of your head throbs with a slight pain that warns you you should stop for tonight and go home. You will have enough time to finish everything for Monday.

The two boys are known for their talent with sports, especially football, and their diligence when it comes to their other studies. All of your colleagues love them and their little group of friends. They are a loud bunch but kind and respectful at the same time. You have been teaching Steve and Bucky for years now, and you are familiar with their sweet-talking and mischievous behavior.

You are ready to close your laptop and end the day when your attention gets stolen by the opening and closing of the door. Your eyes shot up to the top of the stairs, watching the two familiar forms getting closer and closer.

"What are you doing here, boys?" You ask them and can't help but laugh when you see their costumes. "And looking like that?"

Both Steve and Bucky are in their football gear, plastered with fake blood on the worn fabrics.

"We are footballers in a zombie apocalypse," Bucky says with a cheeky grin on his face.

Seeing them up close, you notice the fake gash on their cheeks and the purple bruise under their eyes.

"I see," you reply. "You really made an effort to impress, huh?"

"Well, we had to," Steve answers this time. They stand in front of you, giddy with something you can't tell. "We want to impress our favorite professor."

"Oh, I thought I am the only one left in the building," you tease.

"I mean, we met Professor Fury when he left, but…" Bucky doesn't even finish. His face contorts into a grimace, knowing well enough the man's strict teaching techniques.

"Don't be mean, boys, Professor Fury just wants the best for his students."

"Yeah, but we like your lectures more," Steve says, smirking.

"You are just saying it because I'm not a tall, bald man who calls people motherfuckers."

"Luckily, you are not." It's Bucky's time to smirk as they watch you packing your things away, moving around the desk in your elegant pencil skirt and black shirt with scary-smiling pumpkin heads on it.

"You are our sweet teacher," Steve says. His voice deepens. "Who has pretty hair, nice dresses, and the donkey is the worst she ever called us."

"Now you are just trying to get better grades for your essays." You try to make it a joke because you know his words are over the line. They are your students, and they are much younger than you. They shouldn't tell you these things, and you shouldn't let them. The warning is at the tip of your tongue, but nothing comes out when you open your lips. Something stops you, and you are not ready to admit the reason.

"Oh, we are not worried about it, Professor," Bucky replies instead of Steve. The word professor rolls on his tongue, which makes it really unprofessional and much more exciting.

"But why should we lie about it?" Steve asks. You almost jump back when you notice him standing next to you. Your shoulder almost touches his broad chest.

"You are our prettiest Professor."

"Boys, I don't think…" You start, but Bucky cuts in before you can finish your sentence.

"But what are you thinking about us?" He asks, moving closer.

Steve's arm snakes around your waist, leaning so close to your ear that you can feel every word fanning over your ear. "What do you think about our costumes? Don't we deserve candies for it?"

"Or some other reward?" Bucky adds, leaning over the desk.

"Boys…"

"Don't you like them?" Steve is a stubborn one. He does everything to keep you away from rejecting them. And it doesn't matter how much you try, you can't be angry with them.

"They are really… creative." It's hard to find the words when Steve's body presses against yours. His hand is firm on your hips, digging his fingers into the soft fabric of your skirt.

Clearing your throat, you reach out to grab your bag from the table, but Bucky is faster. He pushes it aside and catches your hand to pull you closer to the table. Without Steve's arm around you, you are sure you would fall.

"Maybe you should show them to the others?" You ask. Your voice is high and trembling. "I'm sure the campus is full of parties now."

"Yeah," Bucky hums. "That was our first plan."

"What changed?"

"We missed you," Steve answers. "We thought we could have a small party with our favorite Prof, doesn't it right, Bucky?"

"Steve is right, Miss Y/L/N," the brunette nods. His fingers are linked with yours.

"Oh, I don't think… I'm too old for parties."

"Not for this one," Steve shakes his head. "You are just right for what we planned."

You know you shouldn't ask it, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. "And what are those plans?"

"I'm glad you asked," Bucky smirks, and with that, he pulls on your hand again until you are sitting on the desk with Steve's help. A loud gasp escapes your lips at the sudden movement. You can barely process what's happening, and the blonde man's lips are already on yours. His kiss is soft but firm and willful. His hand keeps you against himself by the back of your head.

"Wait…" you gasp out. "We can't…"

"Don't think about it," Bucky breathes behind you.

"But…"

"No buts, Miss Y/L/N," he smirks into your ear while his friend kisses down your neck. He nibbles on the soft skin, licking the burning spots he leaves behind, and your head tilts to the side on its own accord to give him more space.

"We watch you, wearing those cute dresses and tight skirts," Steve hums against your collarbone. You don't even know when he started unbuttoning your blouse. The black lace of your bra peeks out as he pushes the soft material off your shoulders.

"Always so pretty and happy to see us," Bucky coos.

"We sit in your classes almost every day, watching you walk and lean above the desk, staring at your plump ass and imagining it without the damn skirt."

"We think about what you have under these clothes."

"And we are hard, Professor," Steve groans. It fans over your skin, making you shudder in their arms. "So fucking hard."

"Boys…"

"Don't call us that," Bucky scolds you, but there is no real firmness in his velvety voice.

The blonde chuckles, lips still nibbling down on your chest. "I think we should show her, Bucky."

"That's a great idea, Steve." And with that, they move you again. They are manhandling you with ease. Steve's hands slide down under your knee, grabbing you there to push it closer to him and up in the air until you are on your back. The only thing that keeps you from the painful slamming is the brunette's hand on your shoulder blades. He makes sure you land softly on the wooden surface.

Your mouth opens again to ask them what they are doing, but the blonde footballer pushes your skirt up on your waist until your panty-covered pussy is in front of his lustful gaze.

"I knew it," he smirks, glancing up at his friend for a second. "I told you there is a reason you can't see the line of her panties, Buck."

"That's not true," the man behind you argues. "You said she doesn't wear anything."

"What?" You gasp. Even the thought of you teaching without panties makes you embarrassed and excited at the same time.

"Well, it's barely anything," Steve's stubbornness shows again. He reaches under the lace with his finger, knowing well enough that he slides through your folds in the process.

"But it's still something!"

Steve sighs. "Fine. I will pay you later."

"Did you bet on me?" You gasp.

"Oh, we have so much bet on you, Professor," Bucky replies. "And we will find everything out tonight."

"Yeah," Steve hums, kneeling down between your legs. "First, we will find out your taste. Bucky said you are sweet, but I'm sure you are even sweeter."

A straddled cry leaves your lips when he pushes your panties aside and flats his tongue against your pussy to lick you up. Your hole tightens, and you gush in his mouth, flooding his senses with your taste.

"I was right," Steve groans and dives into your count while Bucky busies himself with your shirt. He pulls it out from your skirt to unbutton it entirely. Soon, nothing hides your black bra, and he feasts on the view of your tits. His thumb ghosts over your nipple until it's hard under the pad of his fingertips.

"Boys…"

"Ah," Bucky tsks, shaking his head with feigned disappointment. "This world again." He leans above your other breast, licking the fabric and launching on your nipple. He sucks it in, soaking the lace with his saliva.

After a few flicks and licks, you are a dizzy mess, wanting to stop and begging for more. Your clit throbs between Steve's plump lips as he sucks the hard bud. The hand that doesn't hold your thigh is busy with your hole. He teases you, barely pushing his finger inside you before moving out. You know what he wants, and you are not ashamed to do it.

"Steve," you cry out his name. "Please."

"What do you want from Steve?" Bucky asks because his friend isn't willing to stop his sucking. He wants everything your pretty pussy can give.

"His fingers," you reply. "Please, Steve. Don't tease me anymore."

"Do you want to cum?" Bucky pushes your bra lower, letting your breast free to play with your nipples some more. They are so hard under his attention it almost hurts.

"Yes," you reply. "I want him to make me cum."

"You heard our sweet professor, Stevie. Make the lady cum!"

And he does. He pounds you with his fingers, focusing on your clit again until stars start to dance in front of your closed eyes. Your orgasm comes quickly and powerfully. It jerks your body, burning your veins and squirting your pussy.

You need a few moments to come up from the blissful blackness, and when you do, their words get clear in your ears.

"Did you see that?" Steve gasps in awe. "It's so sweet, Buck. She is so sweet."

"Do you think I could do it with my cock?"

They talk about you, so casually as if you aren't even under them, bare and sensitive. It surprises you how much it makes you crave more.

"Oh," Steve smirks when he feels you tightening around his finger. "I think Miss Y/L/N wants to try it."

"Then let me there, punk."

They switch places, and soon, Bucky is between your legs while Steve smirks down by your side.

"Do you want to taste yourself, Miss Y/L/N?" He asks smugly. His face glints with your juices, and his lips are red and swollen. He doesn't even wait for you to answer. Leaning down, Steve kisses you again, pushing his tongue inside your mouth so you can taste your wetness coating his face. Meanwhile, Bucky unbuckles his pants, taking out his cock to jerk off the view of you making out with his best friend, your legs still wide open. Your pussy drips with your juices.

"Do you like it, Miss?" Bucky grins when Steve straightens himself, following his friend's lead and taking out his hard erection. The tip of his cock is red and glints with precum. A vein runs at the underside of his shaft, disappearing behind the white fabric of his pants. Bucky's hands on your thighs are the only thing that keeps you from leaning close and drawing the bluish line with your tongue.

"I think our dear prof is too busy to answer," Steve chuckles, playing with his cock under your heated gaze.

"We should turn her around," Bucky hums. "I really wanna tap that ass."

You don't even react when they manhandle you again. You let them turn you on your stomach and take off your panties. It didn't hide much anyway.

You look back over your shoulder when the brunette speaks up again. "I will keep it," he says as he puts the thin lace in his pocket.

"Hey," Steve grunts. "I wanted it."

"You can have another one."

"Another?" You ask, shocked, but again, they don't answer. Bucky is too busy gliding the tip of his cock through your wet folds, and Steve positions himself in front of your face. His cock points at you so close you could lick him.

"She is so warm," Bucky groans, sliding his shaft against your slit. He coats his cock with your wetness, enjoying the softness of your pussy.

"Yeah?" Steve hums. "I bet she is warm somewhere else too." He cups your jaw, pulling on your lower lip with his thumb. "What do you say, Miss? Do I get a reward?"

Not bothering with words, you open your mouth, letting him slip inside your warm channel.

"Oh, god," Steve groans. He braces himself on the desk while his other hand takes hold of the strands of your hair.

"Are you ready, Prof?" Bucky's voice is tight and dry behind you. "Are you ready for my cock?"

You hum with Steve's length still in your mouth. You move your arm to grab the base of his cock. Your finger curls around it, and your mouth leaves the tip with a wet sound.

"Do it, Buck," Steve laughs again. "Can't you see that our favorite teacher is busy?"

You lick up on the vein, flatting your tongue on the tip, and suck it into your mouth again. You feel him jerk, and the man moans above you. You tease the soft skin with your warm tongue, soaking him in your saliva.

Meanwhile, Bucky guides his cock to your entrance, pushing against the hole, that he can't wait to feel around his aching erection.

"So tight," he rasps, forcing himself deeper. Your moan is muffled as he stretches you out. Your muscles burn, but the brunette gives you enough time to adjust around him inch by inch.

"So good," Bucky groans again. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. You are sure it will bruise, but you don't care. You are filled with Steve and Bucky on both ends, and it seems like it's enough to make you forget how to worry or even think.

Your breathing is heavy, and you can hear the beating of your heart in your ears, suppressing the filthy noises the two men make as they slide in and out of you.

"I don't know how long I can do it," Bucky warns, lifting you off the table for a second to reach his hand under you. His fingers slide to your clit, flicking and pinching the sensitive bud.

"Me neither," Steve replies. His head falls back as you suck him in more, hollowing your cheeks and gulping around his throbbing cock.

They use you and fuck you into oblivion. At some point, you don't even dare to move, afraid you would hurt Steve in the process. Your eyes roll back, and saliva drips down your cheek. The wet noise of Bucky pounding into you fills the hall, mixing with your moans and grunts. Your nerves are in flames, and the hot coil in your lower belly is almost too much to bear.

"She will cum," Steve groans. "And I will too."

The blonde wants to ask you where you want it, or he should use his own hand but hearing his words, you suck him in deeper.

"Oh, holy…" he gasps. Every word dies on his open lips.

"I feel it." There is an awe in Bucky's tone. He can barely hold himself up when he feels you tightening around him. Your walls shudder on his cock, milking him into the mess of your hot pussy.

Pleasure washes over you in waves that knock you out for a few seconds. Your body jerks, your muscles contract, and the men cum inside you with such power it almost forces them to their knees. They pump you full until their seed drips down your hole and mouth. Your lungs ache since you can't remember how to breathe anymore. They are the only thing that keeps you grounded.

"Are you okay, Miss?" Steve kneels in front of you with that sweet curve of his lips that you know well enough. He smiles at you like this every time you praise him after a good answer.

"What?" You groan out. Your throat burns, and it feels like he is still inside you.

"It's okay," he replies, caressing the side of your face. "We will help you."

And with that, the two footballers take care of you softly and carefully while you try to win back your clear mind and strength. They clean you and adjust your clothes until you are presentable again. Your insides are still quivering, but at least you can keep your weight as you stand up.

"What do you say, Prof?" Bucky speaks up when all three of you are leaving the lecture hall. The cheeky curve on his plump lips is back, but hunger still shines in his steel-blue eyes. "We could have a trick or treat at your place."

"And we sure have to do some plus work to keep our good grades," Steve adds teasingly. Both of them have a lot of plans to earn your affection and good grace, and they can't wait to show it to their favorite professor with the sweetest smile and pussy.

You should say no. You should stop this whole thing and forget what happened. It's not right.

"Alright, boys."

"Boys!" Bucky gasps, swatting your ass.

#stucky x reader #stucky x reader smut #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #kinktober 2022 #marvel imagine #avengers imagine

[strawhatkia]

luvr boy.

INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader

GENRE ! fluff

SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !

WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited

WORD COUNT ! 1.6k

A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

— ☾⋆⁺₊ 👊🏻 📗✧

pretty boy- the prettiest 

alright!! let’s start with wash day!!

…nigga did not know shit-

 poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair

all he had was h e a t  d a m a g e

“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”

everything…everything is wrong…

aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength

and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack

chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it 

don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?

but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!

first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while

lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter

mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber  

after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet

“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth

after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size

“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night. 

the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed

when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes

“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”

he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self

which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."

to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting

golden hour, his favorite time of the day

this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you

it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this

"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"

side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised

izuku loves affection, giving and receiving

his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation

so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm

go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen

one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard

as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.

let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise 

ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so

even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)

i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much

if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise. 

and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times

remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason

poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking

he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it

later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did

and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands

he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them

he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend

i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it

please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit

he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special

he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it 

when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run

give it back and you'll never see it again.

but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red

“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*

nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-

for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka

short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in

long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !  

and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”

i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles

be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !

the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all ! 

the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while

he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else

i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together

you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price

what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?

everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !

izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you 

you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you

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wanna read more ??

lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | multiple characters

boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo

love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters

taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @miirene

izuku taglist: @cosmiles

#— kia writes ! #— luvr season ! #x black reader #black reader #black!reader #x black!reader #my hero acedemia #mha #boko no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia fluff #mha fluff #boko no hero academia fluff #bnha fluff #izuku midoriya #izuku x black!reader #izuku x black reader #deku #deku x black reader #deku x black!reader

[bangarangdarling]

I haven't caught up on all of your writing, so I'm not sure if you've already done your own take on this:

Prompt: Eddie wakes up in the hospital (after the demo-bats of course) really, really loopy on painkillers and the first person he sees is Steve...

This was exactly the fluff fest I needed to break up all the angst I've been in the middle of :') Thank you!!

He really just had one thing to say to all the soccer moms and televangelists who always said people like Eddie were going to hell–

Suck it. 

Eddie absolutely was not in hell, thank you very much. Sure, for some reason his sides hurt like a bitch occasionally. And he couldn’t really talk super well since there was what seemed like an entire roll of tape and gauze on the side of his face. And maybe he couldn’t move his left leg around much, but who cares about those things? 

In the grand scheme of things, he was living a fucking dream. 

Heaven, if you ask him. Take that, Pastor Davies, you wrinkled prick. 

Honestly, he’d kind of always thought stereotypical heaven was overrated. With the way the stuffy religious folk always talked about it, it seemed like a total drag. Just prayer and eternal…boringness. 

This heaven was way better. 

It was mostly just floaty. Things blurred. Time moved strangely. Minutes stretched out forever, and yet he would blink sometimes and all of a sudden the morning sun in the window would be gone. The lamp beside his bed would be on, instead. He loved those times because usually a voice accompanied it, saying words that Eddie knew he recognized, but just couldn’t give enough effort to understand. It was nice, though. 

The voice sounded kind. It stumbled over words sometimes, like maybe it was reading off of something aloud, but it was familiar and the cadence lulled Eddie back into those peaceful, floaty times where he didn’t have to think about anything at all. 

Whenever he was hungry, food was just there. Eddie could have sworn he’d thought about pudding once and then bam pudding was in front of him. Like magic. Several times he’d come to consciousness with a mouth drier than a motherfucker, and there were always hands that reached over to supply him sips of water. 

The hands were so nice. Big. Gentle. He’d felt them combing through his hair before, he’d thought. 

Best of all, though? The angel. 

God, his angel. 

Prettiest goddamn face he’d ever seen. At first the angel looked sad, red-rimmed eyes and a deep set frown, and that had simply not been okay. No way. A fuckin’ masterpiece of a face like that being upset was criminal. Just…not allowed. Eddie had said as much, mumbled and probably slurred to hell, but it made those pretty lips lift at the corners a bit.

He’d made it his mission, then, to make the literal celestial being in front of him smile every time he could focus his brain power enough to make words. 

His most recent swim up to consciousness had him coming to with fingers in his hair and a light pressure felt to the immobilized side of his face. His eyes met with his angel’s and he couldn’t help his dopey smile. Angel’s lips moved, that kind voice breaking through the haze. 

“...to wake you. Sorry, your bandage was peeling back. It looked uncomfortable,” Eddie’s pretty angel smiled down at him, seeming slightly nervous all of a sudden. Like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

It took him a try or two to push his own voice out, rough from disuse. 

“Don’ say sorry, ‘s fine. You c’n touch me anytime, angel.” Eddie giggled when the angel’s cheeks flushed an adorable pink and his hands fluttered around like he didn’t know where to put them. 

“Oh, come on, man, don’t–hey, stop that. Quit grinning so wide, you’ll pop your stitches!” 

Eddie batted at the hand that came up to grab the non-patchwork side of his face, pushing at his lips like if the angel could physically hold it down he could stop the smile from growing any larger. Silly angel. Eddie took the opportunity to seize one of those hands in his. He shook it around loosely, celebrating. Hah! Caught him. 

It gave Eddie the chance to get a closer look at his fingers. Nice fingers, long. Eddie would smack a kiss on every one of them if he could. (There’s a possibility he may have said that part out loud, if the choked sound from the angel was any judge.) 

No ring on the hand though. His angel wasn’t married. Could angels even get married? Was it against the rules in heaven or something? 

Eddie leveled a very serious look to the other man, clutching the captured hand to his chest fiercely. Or, as fiercely as he was capable, seeing as the soft, floaty feeling was starting to take over again. 

“I would marry you a’nyway. Okay? Don’t care what the rules are.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve spent the last several nights getting well acquainted with the scratchy vinyl of his hospital chair and the fourth floor’s only vending machine. There were only so many power naps and snickers bars a man could take. 

His back ached from slumping over onto the hospital bed to accommodate Eddie’s hold on him. It was hard to care about that, though, when the hand clutched in his twitched slightly in sleep before tightening back again. He’d been able to relax the older boy back into rest earlier, smiley and malleable. 

Eddie only agreed to it after insisting Steve didn’t “fly away without him” whatever that meant. 

Those crazy strong drugs the doctors had pumped him with were doing the work to keep him comfortable, despite making him say things he never would have had he been more aware. 

Steve didn’t have the heart to pull away. He should. He should put some space between them. He shouldn’t take anything Eddie says or does to heart at all–he’s high as hell on painkillers. That would make any guy a little loopy. Make him say things he doesn’t mean. 

Eddie adjusted in his sleep, smiling a bit, body angled towards Steve. His hand was warm, and if Steve moved his fingers up just a bit to his wrist, he could feel the steady thump there. 

In the quiet of the sterile hospital room, Steve thought he maybe could indulge just a bit. No harm in the comfort of two people, just happy to be alive. 

Robin let herself into the room quietly, a paper coffee cup in one hand that Steve knew would be made perfectly to how he liked it. 

It took her barely a beat, taking in the two boys curled in towards each other. 

“So, how many marriage proposals were there today?” 

#when eds is finally able to come off of the hard stuff robin NEVER lets him live this down #but steve's favorite petname eddie has for him is angel forever now #steddie #Thank you for your prompt! I love doing these #post s4 steddie #my brain vomit #everyone lives because i say so obviously #waking up from anesthesia to flirt with your crush trope

[cherrycoloredfaith]

Kiss Off

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 4

Chapter 3: Three for My Headache

Eddie

Eddie slammed the door to his office. Well, really his bedroom. It’s not ideal for him to live outside the city, but once Eddie realized he wanted to live alone while not being able to afford it, he took Wayne on his offer. It’s messy and lonely, but he’s actually able to save up his money. 

He leaned against the door, inhaling deeply. He didn’t mean to snap–especially not in front of Max. She knew what Eddie’s been through, but he felt ridiculous confiding in her with his issues. Even more so when he lost control of his temper. He didn’t know what was wrong with him.

He waited until he heard the front door open and shut. Then, he moved to the window, peeking through the blinds to catch a glimpse of his worst nightmare, walking away in his stupid jeans, getting into his stupid car and driving away. Eddie took a sigh of relief. 

Kicking off his boots, he started to relax. He headed back out into the kitchen to pour himself some water; Max stared at him with her arms crossed, her gameboy forgotten on the table. “Dude, what was that about?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Eddie, giving her a smile he knew wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“If you really intend to hide your feelings, you’re doing a terrible job… Is this about–?” Max asked. 

“I’m not talking about this.” Eddie drained his glass. “Especially not with you. Wayne’s leaving soon if you need a ride home.” 

Max narrowed her eyes on the man, but stood and gathered her things. “Whatever, Eddie. I’m just saying, Steve seems nice.” She headed out the door without another word. 

Looking down at his feet, Eddie began to think through his day. Steve did struggle at most of his tasks, but he knew with practice, it’d get better. That was what he reported to Wayne anyway. Steve clearly could work with his hands, however delicate they seemed. Eddie wasn’t worried about Steve’s performance, but instead was fretting over the ways he made Eddie want to laugh and get close to him and touch his hair. 

So far, Eddie did all the wrong things around Steve. He became quiet, or he was too abrasive, or god forbid, he flirted with the man. Since last year, he told himself he’d never let anyone have power over him again. Not like it was. He was supposed to be scary, to be loud and obnoxious. All that went out the window when he caught his first glimpse of Steve. 

There he stood, at the door of the office, perfectly clean, his chestnut hair framing his face in waves, clearly freshly trimmed. His curious eyes landed on him with an ease Eddie did not mirror but tried. He had been arguing with Wayne, saying he didn’t need a new crew member; the residual tension hadn’t eased, and Eddie needed out . Without addressing Steve in the slightest after giving him his most intimidating smile and foreboding description of life at Munson Construction, he was out of there, running to the clubhouse to catch his cool. He ran towards the back porch to hide, lighting his cigarette.

Eddie and Wayne had built it a couple years ago to create a space for cookouts with the guys and various gatherings. You wouldn’t notice it unless you knew it was there. It looks out onto the line of trees beyond the small field. Just out of view is their garage storing all of their equipment and supplies. They’re a small company, but have been growing for the past few years, getting bigger and bigger jobs. Eddie knew they needed the extra hands.

But Eddie didn’t want someone joining their circle. Let alone a very handsome someone. Why the hell did Wayne not let Eddie pick a perfectly ugly candidate? Wayne argued they didn’t do interviews in person, but couldn’t the man make an exception? He had to go pick up the prettiest motherfucker Eddie’s ever seen?

Wayne gave him and the guys the day off as Steve was just getting his bearings and finishing up paperwork. After Max checked in with Eddie on what he’d have to teach Steve tomorrow, he cowered on that porch until he heard his car leave. 

Now, Eddie stood in his kitchen, running his hands over his eyes. He scrunched his face in disgust, remembering how he was covered in dirt from the day, and walked towards the bathroom to have a shower. 

Shedding his clothes, he forced himself not to think of him, but this was his first bit of alone time all day.  Pulling on the hair tie, he let his ponytail loose, sighing in relief at the feeling. He stepped into the shower and was focusing on the task at hand. 

The water was slightly cold, as it always was when Eddie first stepped in. A year living here, he knew to wait for it to heat up. Instead, today he welcomed the chill.  He felt the dirt and sweat of the day wash away and reached for his 5N1 shampoo. He gave it a sniff, the familiar cedarwood vanilla bringing flashes of last summer. Eddie shamefully wondered what Steve smelled like. 

A vision passed behind Eddie’s closed eyes from earlier today.  Eddie stood gazing down while Steve kneeled, checking the slumped pile of concrete they were testing. He was giving Steve a chance to assess it himself, but Eddie knew right when he mixed it the ratio was off. He needed to teach Steve what it looked like when it was wrong. The moment gave Eddie a chance to watch Steve’s concentrated expression as he analyzed. With his head tilted and one eyebrow cocked, he regarded the deflated cone shape with uncertainty. “Looks good to me,” he said confidently. To Eddie’s horror,  from his spot on the ground, Steve looked up at his face with his big brown eyes, lips parted and panting from the heat. The perfect flush from the sun painted his cheeks, glowing with a sheen of sweat.

He remembers dropping his jaw slightly, probably wearing the dumbest look on his face.  Eddie blinked, stilling,  to try and recollect what was just happening. He laughed it off, “No, Harrington, not at all.” 

The memory played out in full a couple times, and then Eddie was stuck on that same frame. That look of innocence and hope in Steve’s eyes. He just knew Steve wanted to please him, to be right for him. It made him hard to hate. Hard to stay away and keep his distance. Eddie knew he was in trouble. 

And the way Steve reveled in Eddie’s praise earlier. He could think of a few other opportunities for Steve to earn it again, just to see that look on his face once more. 

Soap cascaded down from his hair to his shoulders, down, down, down. So did his hands as he scrubbed away the grime. 

Maybe, if he kept his eyes closed, he wouldn’t feel the shame. He wouldn’t have to face the reality of it. 

With a sigh of resignation, he gave in. Reaching down for himself, he kept his eyes shut. Slowly warming water pounded his face until he leaned against the wall. He gasped for air the moment he surfaced from the stream of the showerhead and his hand came into contact with his slowly hardening cock. As he began to grip tighter and tighter, he failed to think of anyone else but him. The sweat that beaded on his skin, dripping down his neck. The slight burn on his skin that would soon turn into the most delicious tan. He pictured his lips as they wrapped themselves around his water bottle. 

In a sudden moment of clarity, Eddie halted, opening his eyes to the harsh fluorescents of the bathroom. What the fuck was he actually doing? Jerking it to his crew member after knowing him for a day? He had to stop this before it got out of hand– fuck! –out of control! He had to stop this before everything he feared came true at the fault of his own.

He was aching all over with need, but he fought it back. Trying to return his focus to finish washing the dirt from the day’s work, he got more soap, scrubbed his fingernails, his feet, behind his ears, anywhere he could think of. He washed his hair for a second time. Then, finally, his face–which led him to close his eyes once more. 

Immediately, flashes of Steve kept coming until he couldn’t take it anymore. He gave in. Eddie fell to his knees as he touched himself to the thought of that mouth, of those eyes shining up at him. He stroked up until he got closer and closer to the edge. His orgasm washed over him like a wave so intense the water hitting his back stung his skin as it made contact, like his nerves were shot. 

He was panting. By the time his heartbeat slowed, the soap had all washed away. Hanging his head, he relished in the calm and clarity. He was looking forward to the weekend ahead without having to see the man that will likely be the next to haunt him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve

The sour mood created by Eddie followed Steve around like a dark cloud, even up until Robin returned from school. She walked through the door, textbooks in hand, backpack hanging off one shoulder, looking frazzled as always. 

Steve was preparing to ask her for another night of moping and smoking, but when she noticed  him sitting on the couch, once again upside down, she started to shake her head.

“Nope. Nope, no, Steve. Not again. Not another night in. You’ve been cagey ever since we moved. We’re going out tonight,” she ordered. She didn’t give the impression she would take no for an answer. Something in her expression told Steve she’d really start to worry if he refused. 

He knew he needed it to be honest, despite how spent his body was from his first day on the job. He’d struggled to gather the courage to make friends since he was so focused on finding work. Even after a month, all he had was Robin. 

He didn’t think he was getting fired, based on the conversation he and Eddie had in the truck, but the knots in his stomach wouldn’t unclench. Robin was right, he needed distraction and a little fun–so what if he’s a little tired?

“Alright, yeah, you got it,” he agreed, getting up from his signature moping position. 

“Good. You can tell me how your day went once we’ve got a drink in our hands,” she pointed at him. 

They split off into their respective rooms to get ready. He knew Robin had added decorations to her’s but Steve’s bedroom couldn’t be more bland. Everytime he tried to come up with ideas for it, he couldn’t name one thing he liked for himself. He had essentials: a bed frame and a night stand. A dresser, too. It hadn’t really sunk in for Steve that this was his new life, his new home. 

Steve already showered once he got back, but now he needed to change and fix his still damp hair. He picked out an outfit of light denim jeans and a dark purple polo that hugged him in all the right places–something to make him feel like himself. 

Robin emerged from her room a few minutes later, looking fashionable in blue slacks, a patterned button down, and suspenders. She swung a relaxed purse over her shoulder. “Ready?” she asked. 

They walked to a nearby bar, one Robin had raved about prior to their apartment searching. She informed him at the time that it was the only real lesbian bar in the city, but it was just dumb luck they ended up moving nearby. Steve silently prayed there wouldn’t only be lesbians there. 

While Steve was prevented from discussing his day, Robin talked about hers as they strolled down the street. She only had a few courses this summer, but they were primarily what she had to talk about nowadays. 

“This next test is going to be crazy, absolutely no one is ready. And really what kind of professor puts a test on a Monday anyway? My answer, the worst kinds. They really should make rules against this kind of teacher/student abuse,” she continued, hardly stopping to breathe. “Oh, Steve, I may need you to quiz me later–”

As he silently listened, he took in the sights around him, trying to familiarize himself with the path to and from the bar. It was nearing 6 PM, but the streets were calm for a Friday night, he thought. The neighborhood wasn’t overly busy, but Steve suspected later in the evening would be a different story. He took deep breaths as he tried to come back to himself. He wanted to tap into the Steve he felt he left behind in Hawkins. Not the one who was an asshole back in high school, but he missed his confidence, his own surety. Even though he hated it there and knew he wanted to leave. Now, here he was. Walking down the Indianapolis street with his best friend in a place that could actually accept him for who he is. So, why did he feel tears stinging behind his eyes as the harsh wind beat against his face?

He quickly blinked them away before Robin had time to notice them. 

Fuck this , he thought. He started to make a deal with himself; he was going to meet someone in this hopefully-not-all lesbian bar. He was going to forget about Eddie, forget about Hawkins. Forget who he used to be or whoever he wished he was. 

Once they arrived, they snagged seats at the bar, both ordering their drinks to start off the night. Moments later, with their drinks in their hands, Robin stopped talking about school. “Alright, Steve-o, tell me what happened,” she requested. 

Steve considered filling her in, but now that he was sat with a drink in his hand and a newfound determination to prove himself, he paused. “You know what, never mind. We can talk about it later? I just want to relax.” He scanned the room looking for potential strangers to talk to. He’d need Robin’s help as both of their “gay-dars” were pretty shit, but maybe he’d have good chances with a guy here. “Rob… I think I want to try and meet someone.”

“Someone that isn’t your new boss?” she teased.

“Someone who is definitely not my new boss.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Okay, I’ll let you know if I see any contenders. Keep an eye out for me, too,” she requested.

They were on their second drinks before Steve actually began to relax. Their seats were turned out to the room, so the pair had a good view of the crowds. Steve was enjoying himself, talking with Robin about the latest movies, reminiscing on when they worked together. As he went to take another sip of his drink, across the room, he caught a glimpse of dark curling hair–quickly disappearing behind someone else. 

Eddie?– Steve gasped as he drank which caused him to choke. He coughed, Robin slapping her hand on his back to pretend to help. A few people around them turned their heads to see what was happening. Robin looked from his face to the direction he was staring as he regained his composure, trying to see whatever caught his attention. He caught his breath just as he felt his face heating. 

“Dude, what happened?” Robin asked as she looked at him, concerned. 

“Uh, I thought I saw someone.” Is it possible that Eddie could be here tonight? Would he even go to a gay bar? Was it possible for Eddie to be gay? Steve realized he hadn’t even considered it. 

He blinked away his watering eyes for the second time that night. Before he knew it, he realized who he saw earlier was walking right for him. A very beautiful girl with a halo of brunette curls. A moment later, he realized she was smiling at Robin. As he looked to her, he recognized the look on her face: completely frozen–he had to act fast. He, sort of gently, kicked her shin with the toe of his sneakers and watched her snap out of her trance just as the mystery girl walked up. 

“Hey, uh, Robin, right? I think we have Advanced English Lit together. With Professor Lyonne?” she asked warmly. She was short, even with Robin sitting at the bar, the strange girl cast her eyes upwards while tucking her chin low, a small smile playing at her lips. Steve watched as she batted her eyelashes. This girl was a pro, and he knew Robin was a goner. 

“Y-yeah! Yes, wow. Nancy, right? Whoa, crazy seeing you here! Do you come here often? I’ve been here a few times, I haven’t noticed you–I mean–I’ve not–uh–seen you around these kinds of places, haha,” Robin stumbled over her words. Steve’s surprised her eyes didn’t bulge out of her head and form heart shapes. 

Nancy actually laughed, “I’ve not been here for a while, but, yeah, you could call me a regular .” She scrunched her nose at the end of her sentence, sending the confirmation both Steve and Robin were looking for. 

They both nodded in understanding, and Nancy’s eyes finally landed on Steve. Before she could wonder anything, he spoke up, “Hey, Nancy. I’m Robin’s best friend , Steve. And I was just about to walk around for a bit.” He stood and offered her his seat. Nancy took it graciously, and the two began talking about their class, leaning a little closer than necessary.

Steve smiled to himself as he walked towards the restroom. It wasn’t until he looked himself in the mirror that he saw how flushed he had become. Between choking on his drink and thinking he saw his boss, Steve's nerves were shot. Why would seeing Eddie have such an effect on him anyway? Why should Steve care if he goes to a gay bar? As if the obvious metal head would show his face at a lesbian bar exclusively playing dream pop. It was foolish of him to be thinking so much about this man he hardly knew. Schooling his features, he refocused on finding someone new to fill his thoughts. 

Steve roamed around the room aimlessly, avoiding the overly dark corners, so he mostly found himself standing alone on the outskirts of a dance floor. There was a good mix of people–young and old, masculine and feminine–but, unfortunately, no one caught his eye. 

Eventually, Steve returned to Robin and Nancy, and the evening carried on. The girls shared a  few slightly awkward dances while he looked on, guarding their seats. They did include him in their conversations after he would strike out trying to meet someone new. Once with a guy, tanned skin, and blonde waves, another with a redhead who he misread and was definitely not into him. By 10:00, he was defeated and wanted nothing more than to go home; all his hopes for the evening had run out. 

Robin was clearly much luckier. Steve could read the look on Robin’s face when she glanced over Nancy’s shoulders; it said “ please go somewhere while I bring this super pretty girl home with me for a few hours and I owe you one .” Of course, she wouldn’t say that out loud, but once she mentioned to Steve that they wanted to go back to theirs to “study,” he knew what he was going to do. Giving her a squeeze on the shoulder, he said his goodbyes for the night.  He wouldn’t bother her; he could no longer feel the effects of his drinks and more than anything wanted to go for a drive. 

#steddie #steddie fic #kiss off #kiss off fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things

[playgrl0]

mine / baji

part 1

a/n: u might catch diabetes bc of how cute this is idk be careful lol

you're currently getting ready for your date with baji. you're really nervous because you've been friends for such a long time and you've liked him since the beginning. who the fuck are you kidding? you love this boy. you know he likes you too, he's confessed about a million times to you already. you always rejected him for the most basic reason ever; you don't wanna ruin your friendship. he just means so, so much to you and you'd never wanna lose him over something as stupid as a relationship issue. but let's forget about all that. that's in the past now. baji will be here any second now to pick you up. he told you to wear something comfortable so that's what you're wearing. you're checking yourself out one last time in the mirror when you receive a text. "im outside, babe." you roll your eyes at the text and reply "not your babe." with a smile. you walk out of your apartment and there he is, looking beautiful as ever. "you'll be my babe by the end of the night." he says in reply to your text. he walks over to you and holds his hand out for you. "may i?" you nod your head and let him take his warm hand into yours. "so, where are you taking me?" "to your favorite place." he grins. "but i just left my bedroom." he rolls his eyes and mutters a quiet "idiot" under his breath. "you'll see." you both keep walking, hands intertwined together, his thumb softly rubbing the back of your hand. the walk there was comfortable, quiet and peaceful.

"you didn't forget." you quietly, almost breathlessly speak up when you reach the place baji was taking you. a beautiful park with the most beautiful sea. the moon and the stars are shining bright and are reflecting in the water, some ducks are still swimming, others are sleeping already. baji takes out a blanket from his backpack, spreads it out onto the grass and pulls you down next to him. "i could never forget." he softly smiles at you. this place is where you and baji met each other years ago for the first time, where you became friends. you'd meet up there almost everyday just to hangout. it quickly became your safe place and a place where you'd go to when you weren't feeling well. whenever he couldn't find you, he knew you'd be there and he'd keep you company to cheer you up. over the years you two came here less and less due to being busy with other things and life being crazy. baji takes your soft hand in his once again and looks at you. "i could never forget the place where i met my best friend and fell in love with her." heat spreads over your face and you look away from him. he does it all the time, confess his feelings to you, but you'll probably never get tired of hearing it. he takes your chin between his fingers and makes you look at him again. "stop being shy around me, it's so weird, get your shit together and man up." he smirks. "shut the fuck up." you slap his hand away. "well, i hope you're hungry. mom made a few snacks for us." he says and pulls everything out the backpack and places it in front of you two. "oh, and–" he pulls out a small vase and a few hand picked flowers, places them in the vase and sets it in front of you as well. "keisuke, you are the cheesiest motherfucker ever." you giggle and he smirks, knowing that you absolutely love it.

after you're done eating and put everything away, you're both laying on your backs and staring up at the sky. baji has your hand on his stomach and softly plays with your fingers while you keep pointing out the brightest stars to him. "i like that one." he speaks up and points at another star. "yeah? why?" he turns his head to look at you. "because it's clearly the brightest and prettiest one up there. it reminds me of myself." you shake your head at him, laughing and he chuckles as well. "but you remind me of this–" he points his finger at the beautiful, bright full moon and your jaw slightly opens at that. he sits up and pulls you up with him, takes both your hands into his and takes a deep breath before he continues. "see how the moon's lighting up the sky despite how fuckin' dark it is right now? you're like my own personal full moon, y/n. you light up my darkest days and make them better. you've always done that, since the very first time we met. and if i'm not having a bad day, you're just there to shine bright and look beautiful, all for me." he puts one of his warm hands against your slightly hot cheek and rubs his thumb over it. "keisuke, i–" "shh! i've told you so many times already how much i like you and i meant it every single time. i need you in my life as more than just my best friend. i need you to be mine and only mine. i want you all to myself. you're on my mind every day. i dream about you at night and when i can't sleep, i think about you. you're driving me crazy in the most beautiful way possible and you make me feel like im going insane and my heart will fall out of my ass everytime you look at me. you giggle as a small tear runs down your cheek and he quickly rubs it away with his thumb. "i mean it, y/n. im so, so in love with you. i love you so much it almost hurts." he takes a deep breath before he continues.

"be mine. please be my girlfriend." he breathes out. you can't do anything but just stare at him. he looks beautiful. his cheeks slightly flushed, his eyes slightly glassy, plump beautiful lips in between his teeth because of how nervous he is and some strands of his gorgeous hair covering his face because of the slight wind. you sigh out and put the hair strands behind his ears. "keisuke, i-." "god, please say yes!" he interrupts you. "i promised mom i'd make you mine tonight, if i come back home and tell her you said no she'll think i fucked up and she'll literally beat my ass–" "baji, let me–" "–and i can't take another beating. do you know how strong that woman is?? and you know how scary she is when she gets angry–" "kei, shut the fuck–" "–she looks like an angel from the outside but she's evil y/n. evil. and i'm scar–" you can't take his rambling anymore. you take your face in his hands and smash your lips against his to shut him up. his eyes widen and it takes him a second to register what just happened. he closes his eyes, finally moves his lips against yours and pulls you in closer by the back of your neck. "finally" you both think. both of your hearts are beating so fast right now, they might jump out of your rib cages if you don't be careful. you're both running out of air but it feels too good to pull away, you've waited years for this very moment. how many times have you imagined his lips against yours? how many times have you imagined how good it would feel? all your imaginations can't compare to how this feels. it feels a million times better than you could've ever imagined. his soft, slightly chapped lips. his warm, minty breath. his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. his hands pulling you closer and closer against him. everything about it, about him, feels so right. so safe.

you both pull away at the same time and stare into each other's eyes and he brushes a few strands of hair behind your ears. "'s that a yes?" he smirks. "you're so annoying." you groan out and hide your face in the crook of his neck. he chuckles, pulls your face away from his neck so he can look at you again. "i need a proper answer babe."

"im yours, keisuke."

he can't contain his smile and pulls you into another short but sweet kiss, then into a tight hug. "im so happy, y/n. i won't disappoint you. i'll take good care of you and your heart." "i trust you." you reply. "i love you keisuke." you peck his lips and he happily sighs out. "i love you more. and thank you for saving me from another beating from mom."

<3 @ playgrl0

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