#this was so fucking weird to find out at 11 at night

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ mommy kink with satoru 𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 11: needy boy!!!

✿ gojo satoru x reader

✿ warnings: mommy kink, breeding kink, p in v, baby trapping, rough

"She's beautiful," you say when Shoko places her daughter in your arms. It's true, her baby is the prettiest you've ever seen. You sit her on your lap, explaining little things to her. You can feel your boyfriend's eyes on her.

"What?" you ask him as the baby sucks on your thumb. He just shakes his head, muttering a little "Nothing."

The rest of the night goes smoothly except for the bubbly boyfriend being so quiet. Every time you're out in public, he's usually the life of the party, being the loudest in the room.

"What's wrong?" you ask him on the way home, but he shrugs you off.

"Are you jealous?" you continue with the questions. Your boyfriend gets rarely jealous, but you know that when he does, he doesn't hold back.

"I just find it interesting how well you play Mommy," he says, the last word rolling against his tongue sweetly. You don't understand what he's talking about, maybe he's jealous of a baby?

"She's just so cute." you sigh, looking down at your lap. You and Gojo both agreed that you're too young to have kids, but today you felt like a part of you got complete by holding the baby.

"Let's go to the bedroom." he encourages you as he parks the car. The atmosphere is still weird, but it's better than on the ride home. You climb up the stairs, Gojo right behind you. You don't even have the chance to close the door before he attacks you with kisses.

"So what's what it was all about? You being horny?" you ask him in between laughs and kisses. He doesn't respond, instead, he tugs on your dress, pulling it off your body. He's quick to take his own clothing off you, throwing you on the bed.

He usually takes some time to suck on your boobs or eat you out, but this time, he sticks his fingers right inside of you. And hell, he's so good at that. His palm is pressed against your clit, making the pleasure even more intense.

"How about we stretch this pussy out, mommy?" he smirks, his fingers working magic inside your little pussy. He knows exactly where to hit and rub to make a complete mess out of you. Your pussy produces more juices with every passing second, and you're not sure if it's because of his abilities or because of the name he calls you. You notice his other hand is rubbing his hard-on as he does his magic to your body.

"Please, I know you want it too," you beg, reaching to put your hand over his to touch his cock. he hisses but pulls your hand away.

Satoru finally knees in between your legs, his cock in his hand. He rubs his cock up and down your folds, teasing you until you are begging him to finally put it in. It's lovely how he doesn't have to use lube to slide inside of you so easily. You let a satisfied moan when he bottoms out. The feeling of being full is so calming.

But Gojo is not having any second of your relaxing as he slams his cock inside of you - hard. He pulls it out until the only tip is inside of you before slamming back in. He takes his time with his thrusts and you know it's because he's a little shit.

"Satoru, come on," you whine, digging your legs into his back to urge him to fuck you. He laughs, not caring about what you have to say.

"What did you say, mommy? you want me to fuck you."

Yes, you want to scream out. You want him to move inside of you. to completely wreck you.

As if he heard your thoughts, he finally moves inside you, ramming his way through your pussy. He's rough, but he knows what he's doing. You let your head fall on the mattress, finally satisfied from all of the teasing.

"Mommy, feels good? Doesn't she?" you whisper at his words, you feel like you're about to cum just from his calling you that.

"I'm gonna give you a baby tonight." he moans, hiking your legs higher on his back to hold you in half. Your brain stops for a second. Is he serious? Does he want kids? You're still on birth control, but it's Gojo, and his swimmers are skilled.

He kisses you on the lips, telling you how much he wants to get you pregnant.

"Please, mommy, get off birth control. Let's make sure you get pregnant." he pleads, his tongue sloppily meeting yours.

You're so close to your release that it would take one word from him to make you fall apart - completely. He's close too, cursing and almost shaking inside of you.

"Im gonna cum, baby. I'm gonna cum so much, mommy," he says and with one hard thrust, he cums right into your womb. The feeling of his filling you up sets you off the edge, and you cum with him, clenching around his cock and making him whine.

"Take all I have to give you, Mommy." his cum still shooting inside you. You're sure he came the hardest in his entire life. He tries to pull out of you, but his cum spills right on the bed, so he pushes back in.

You're both overstimulated, but it's also so intimate. He shuffles so you can lie comfortably with his cock still inside you. He stores your hair, telling you how great you did.

"Did you mean it? When you said you want kids?" you ask him, and you're surprised when he turns dark red.

"Yeah, I want kids. It will be awkward for them to call you mommy now."

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaennii

Yeah, it sure will be.

@satorustar @balenciagarette

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you

[marriedtobigfoot]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #steve is sad #eddie helps #pre-season 4 #this takes place between seasons 2 and 3 #I wrote this in a fit of insanity while I was supposed to be working #hope yall like it

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 5 - Meet The Adams Family

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

The first thing you’d done when you woke up, still somehow in the Wayne manor, was pull out not-your phone and check the date. When it tells you that you are not, in fact, in some weird version of a time loop, you feel some measure of relief. The second thing you do is look your own damn name up on Google. There were over 3 million results. You have a Wikipedia page. If that hadn’t made you want to gag, the press from last night had you bumbling your way into the ensuite bathroom and puking into the toilet.

It’s still sitting on the bathroom floor, nauseous and achy and sweaty, your mouth washed out but still tasting foul, that you continue your research.

It’s just as you had suspected, your family was dead. Still dead. Well, shit. In the light of day, you supposed that made more sense. That there was no real reason to assume otherwise. You hadn’t for most of yesterday, but as soon as you’d thought that maybe there was a chance, your hopes had been dashed. Which was good, rip the bandaid off and all.

It was good. Things were good. They were fine, you were fine. You really wish you were a better liar.

Again you wash your mouth out. Root around the cabinets for some medical-grade mouthwash, do it again, and then you throw yourself into the shower. Again. You notice the soap smells like whoever’s clothes you stole. Refreshing and awakening, that mint and earth again. You think you can detect something floral in it too. It’s still masculine, but…

Wow, you are such a freak! You put down the fucking soap and manage to resist the urge to slam your head into the tiles. Your headache was bad enough already.

When you leave the bathroom, you glance at the door, and then down at your towel. Guess you’re stealing some more apparel. You find a Superman shirt, give it a judging glance, and then pick out a black T-shirt with ‘The Beatles’ across the front, and some sweatpants. You have to roll up the pant legs so you don’t trip and fall flat on your face.

One hand scrolling through Twitter and TikTok and Reddit and every single piece of social media you could find, getting the people’s source of news and you get the high overlords’ one when you turn on the huge TV attached to the wall. The remote kind of confuses you at first, but you manage to find the good ol’ Gotham news channel.

Immediately, you’re greeted by your miserable mascara-streaked face. You turn the TV off. You take a deep breath. Turn it back on. Luckily it’s not just you getting your private moment of trauma blasted open in the media. Your party had been filled with Gotham’s elite, after all. You weren’t the only rich idiot left crying by the side of the road.

You weren’t the only one who had to suffer. There had been twenty-eight casualties, in total. A small amount, considering the man behind the deaths. The Joker wasn’t known for his cleanliness. You tell yourself that, and yet still, you can’t make them just numbers. They’d been standing right next to you, after all. All in the same boat, all waiting for the axe to swing, secretly hoping you’re the one who lives to the next day. Only one of the party guests had been shot, and that’s because you think they’d personally pissed off the Joker. That’s what Twitter says, anyway. There were multiple video recordings of the altercation, and it didn’t look like he’d been the smartest banana in the bunch. The TV is a lot sweeter on the dead soul.

You feel sorry for all the dead. You still don’t think this rich heir should be the face you see, though. When you check his name, you find several forgotten assault cases. Assault, rape, just like that disappearing bastard had tried to do to you. That female janitor you’d seen shot had done more for this city than that guy ever had.

Did her family know? Did she have a family? Someone to mourn her? You’d never thought about that before. How many people out there wouldn’t have anyone to even remember them?

It’s none of your business, in the end.

After a whiles more research, you switch the TV off and tuck your cracked phone into the sweatpants. You know where your mother’s grave is, on the west side of the estate. Wikipedia knew all, which was now kind of creepy to you as it knew all about you as well. Really, you couldn’t believe it. Your mother, buried with the Waynes? You’d always thought she should find someone new, someone who’d appreciate her, unlike your father who had dipped as soon as Sam was born.

You couldn’t even remember the guy. Still, you remembered that he’d smelled bad and made your Mum do everything, and was just generally all around the worst choice for a husband.

But, Jesus Christ, Bruce Wayne? Absolute insanity. You had no idea how the two of them would’ve even met. Let alone fall in love and get married. Your mother was one of the loveliest women on earth but… they had absolutely nothing in common, other than having troublesome kids. And you hadn’t seen her getting lovey-dovey with the other PTA mums.

You walk out of the room you’ve borrowed and into the hallway. In the light of day, the Wayne manor is much less creepy, and you can find it in yourself to appreciate the antique space. Warm sunlight falls over dark oak furniture, illuminating your bare feet as you walk along the Persian rug. Your fingers trail along all the tiny little decorations, some annoying part of you demanding you leave traces of yourself behind. Your fingerprints dirty an old clock, a golden candelabra, a lamp and a tiny spinning globe.

You might’ve gotten lost in a place this huge if you couldn’t hear people’s voices floating down the halls. They were too far away for you to be able to tell what they were saying, but you could still hear them. They’re to the west, so you’re definitely going to have to go past them.

You follow the voices and eventually come to a stop in a hallway. You can smell food. Good, real food. The type that makes your instant-ramen-powered body salivate. The people are in the kitchen, right around the corner. You duck your head and quickly sneak past the mostly closed doorway. On the other side, you pause, your curious self unable to leave just yet.

“She needs help,” Bruce says, and you mentally curse. Balls. You didn’t want to hear this. You guess this was instant karma for snooping. Maybe they weren’t talking about you?

Why did that sound very unlikely…

“She went through a lot last night,” he continues, which, well, yes, you did go through a lot, “And he said that she saw a woman get shot right in front of her. It makes sense if she doesn’t want to talk yet.”

He? Who’s he? Who ratted you out? Wait, dumb question, the four other witnesses who saw the janitor get shot. You were still pretty sure the Waynes weren’t supposed to know that, but everybody knew those GCPD pigs were always just a dollar away from whatever you wanted them to do. It’s not surprising that the Waynes know details only the police should know at the moment.

…It is a bit disappointing, though. You chose to have hope in them, that they’d gotten that information legally. Your fatal obsession with the Waynes wasn’t going to disappear after one miserable party. You wished it would.

“She was acting strange before that,” Timothy Jackson Drake’s smooth voice drifts from the kitchen. You were still a little starry-eyed over him, which was… bad, you think. It’d definitely make whatever relationship the two of you had been forced into a whole lot more difficult. It did not need to be any more difficult.

“Are you accusing her of something?” Bruce Thomas Wayne’s voice is gravelly in comparison, angry, maybe. Also, ‘accusing’? What could he even be accusing you of? It was pretty obvious you weren’t capable of anything nefarious, you were far too stupid for that. You were a plastic bag drifting along the Gotham river, barely able to affect which direction you flowed in.

“God no. And I definitely wouldn’t do it with her listening, that’d be rude.”

Your breath hitches, and you push off from the wall. Busted, damn. Your face feels unbelievably hot. As you leave, you can hear Mr Wayne scolding his adopted son. You walk until you can’t hear their voices anymore, and then a little further, finding an exit door.

You stumble out onto a stone staircase, probably a servants’ one in the olden days. You move down it, hand gripping the railing. You’re barely conscious of where you’re going. There’s a path that leads away from the stone manor and further into the estate, and you follow it. When you spot a small gated area, with stone obelisks and angel statues, you veer off the path and onto the grass.

Hissing out a breath, it’s only now you realise you went outside without any shoes on. Your toes curl in the cold, wet grass. It’s a miserable feeling, and you want to walk right back inside. And then you think about the awkward conversation waiting for you, take a breath and keep going. The gates swing open easily under your hand, the golden embossed ‘W’ glinting in the light.

A guardian angel stands before you. Its stone face is disapproving, glaring down at you from above. ‘Interloper,’ it calls you, but you move past it without pausing. It’s pretty obvious which graves are the new ones and which are the old ones. They’re all clean and well-kept, but the ones to the left have dates going back hundreds of years, and the ones to the right only decades. Your eyes follow the rows of graves. Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne…

Your breath whistles out of you, nearly muffled by the grey morning wind.

And your mother. She has a different last name, now another Wayne. Your siblings don’t, which makes sense. You’re surprised to find many of your extended family also in this graveyard. Your grandmother. Your uncle and aunt. A few of your cousins.

It’s cold this morning, and you’re out here with only a thin T-shirt on. Shivering, you rub your palms against your bare arms. It doesn’t do much. Still, you don’t want to go inside yet. Instead, you crouch in front of Sam’s grave, eyes reading the tiny epitaph. It’s not the one you wrote.

‘Beloved Son and Brother.’

Simple, clean-cut, formal… unfamiliar, you suppose. Yours had been much more flowery, ‘All the colour in the world is gone without you’. It was a bit silly, but you’d never said you were a poet. You’d just known you’d wanted something that represented them, if poorly.

Sam was a beloved son and brother. But that wasn’t who he chose to be. He liked colours. He’d change his favourite every other day, so he liked everything rainbow. It made it easier to choose which one he’d like next, he said. You were always buying him more and more coloured pencils because he’d wear them all down to the tips, he dyed the cat a bright red headache, much to your mother’s horror, and considered it his personal job to make every single birthday, christmas, and easter card. He’d paint on the walls in washable markers, and you’d often been the one to volunteer to help him get it all down. In school, he always had the best art project out of the entire class, even if you were slightly biased.

He was a colourful kid. He wasn’t… a plain grey tombstone. Nothing to help remember him, because you were always losing more and more of their precious memories.

The others had similarly impersonal graves. Just what they were, not who. Mother, sister. Nothing that spoke of how they’d lived their lives, what the world had lost when they’d died. It was… you didn’t think it was right. It was a disaster, really. Even when you’d had to rely on the Wanye Foundation donations, you’d managed a better resting place than this.

You suppose you’d never gotten them into the Wayne family’s personal graveyard, though. That was a bit of an upgrade, you guess.

“You need to come back inside. You’re worrying my father.”

“Jesus Christ!” you shriek, leaping backward. Your foot catches on one of the cobblestones, and you end up tipping back farther than you mean to, your ass bruising against the ground. You bump another gravestone, and there’s a horrible moment where it gives a little and you think it’s going to knock over.

It doesn’t. A shining miracle on your day.

From your slightly wet seat on the ground, you look up, finding one such Damian Al Ghul-Wayne. His towering height is the first thing you notice, second his stunning emerald green eyes. Both were incredibly shocking in their own ways, but his height really was almost dizzying. Perfect brown skin and a stylish 'long on the top, short on the sides’ black haircut, paired with the sort of face some European model might have, all come together to make sure you feel as pathetic as possible. His posh-looking outfit doesn’t help.

Neither does the fact he just watches you. He doesn’t even pretend to bend over to help you up. Which you’re sort of grateful for, honestly. It’d just make you more embarrassed. You didn’t know if you could hold the hand of your celebrity crush and… well, be normal. Pretend to be normal. You weren’t doing a very good job of it anyway.

You have to wonder, which was the worst introduction? The drunk, the bloody, or the one where you fell on your ass? God, you really are screwing this all the way up. You wonder how you’re inevitably going to make it even worse. There’s a part of you that desperately doesn’t want to meet any of the other Waynes, even as another part of you is screaming that it needs to.

If they knew they had a fangirl in their graveyard, you’re sure they’d kick you out. That was why you were lying about everything, not because you had intimacy issues.

Stop thinking, you idiot! You’re only making things more difficult for yourself with all your worrying and fretting. And maybe you should get off the ground, you looked stupid. You push to your feet, wiping your dirtied hands on the sweats.

He still doesn’t say anything when you stand, still just staring at you. His open staring is far too intimidating, so you scrounge for something to say.

“Your father? You- Is he alright?” you stammer over your words, giving Damian Wayne an awkward smile. He doesn’t return it, instead canting his head towards one of the windows.

You look toward where Damian Wayne gestured to, find nothing but an empty window frame, and then back to the ridiculously tall man. You swear, the guy had grown like a bean pole. He had to be something ridiculous, like 6’5, or maybe more. You were fairly certain you’d been taller than him at twelve, or thirteen, whenever it was he was first introduced to the world as Damian Wayne. Now, now… not so much.

“There’s nobody in there?” you ask, like you’re questioning your sanity. You are.

“My father’s shy,” He says, coolly shrugging one shoulder.

What. Bruce Wayne? Shy? Was he joking or something?

Damian Wayne stares down at you with narrowed green eyes, and dark brows in a harsh frown. His arms are crossed over his rich kid sweater, shiny black shoes tapping against the cobbles. That’s not the face of someone who makes jokes, you think.

You swallow, mind whirring as you try desperately to fix this conversation, “Right. Okay. I’ll… I’ll come back inside, then. Sorry for bothering you guys.”

He keeps staring at you. He doesn’t seem bothered.

“Sorry for bothering him?” you correct.

Damian gives one slow, cat-like blink of his eyes, and then turns with a tsk and walks away. It takes you a moment to realise you’re meant to follow him. It takes you even longer to actually catch up with him because he’s so fucking tall.

On TV he didn’t look this tall. You feel kind of betrayed, which is weird.

As you’re walking along, getting closer back to the manor, a stick or something pokes you in the foot. You curse, grabbing your foot. Thankfully you don’t start bleeding or something. You’d already be tracking dirt all over the inside of the impeccable space, you didn’t want to bring blood in as well. It takes a moment for you to realise the sound of Damian’s footsteps crunching in the grass has stopped, and you glance up.

He’s staring right at you again. He looks even less impressed with you, raising an eyebrow and mouth ticking downward. You put your foot down and tuck your hands behind your back in a very obvious anxious display.

“You went outside not wearing any shoes?” Damian Wayne asks, incredulous.

“I was… yeah, I forgot to,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Not your best moment, but you weren’t really having any of those today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Maybe you should stop thinking about that, actually.

“That’s disgusting,” The young Wayne sneers, and then turns and gives you his shoulder.

You think your heart maybe cracks a little. Well, they do say to never meet your idols. Maybe whoever wrote that quote had you in mind specifically, because now you were in… this situation. Ex-step-sister. If that was a thing. Your Wikipedia page said that you said that a lot, very insistent that you had absolutely nothing to do with the Waynes.

…It didn’t really look like you had nothing to do with the Waynes, from an outsider's perspective. Which obviously didn’t make any sense, since you were… you. You were not an outsider, not anymore.

This was too complicated. You needed a coffee. With like, so much sugar it’ll make you bounce from the walls.

Damian strides up the side entrance’s staircase and through the door, leaving it open for you to follow through. You hesitate at the doorway, looking over your shoulder to the graveyard. The statue calls you names in the distance, and although you feel like a stranger who doesn’t belong here, you manage to step back into the house.

You force yourself to walk through the hallway and into the kitchen, fists clenched tight at your side and your shoulders bunched up to your ears. Bruce Thomas Wayne, Timothy Jackson Drake, and the butler from earlier. Damian Al Ghul Wayne steps around the trio, picking some drink from the counter and moving to sit at the dining table at the edge of the room. There’s an open book on the table that he starts flicking through, and well, apparently that’s the end of your first conversation with the youngest Wayne.

You did… well, alright might be pushing it. You're still going to say you did alright.

Tim Drake gives you a sweet smile, catching your attention. The silky raven hair of his heart-shaped fringe falls over his beautiful, pale face, and for a moment there you totally forget that he’d called you out earlier like that. Which was just, such an odd thing to do. His hand lifts to scratch at the buzz cut under the floppy strands of hair. The movement mesmerises you. You look away from his sky blue eyes, very quickly realising they’re robbing you of the few remaining brain cells you have. And you need those, damn it. Especially because you’d already made the decision to hide from all your problems like a baby. Negative, negative…

“How’re you doing today?” Tim asks you, giving you a friendly greeting. It’s a welcome olive branch.

“I’m good,” you lie like you breathe, eyes glancing around the space. Bruce Wayne has his phone out and a mug of coffee in his hands. He sips from the cup, his focus swallowed by the tiny screen. You glance back over to Damian Wayne. Huh, it really does run in the family.

Your neck prickles, and you glance back at Tim again. You get a brief vision of his tired, unsmiling expression, and then it’s back to the angelic and gentle smile. You smile back at him, a wretched, awful twisting of the lips that you hope doesn’t look like a grimace.

Tim’s smile turns into a grin. It’s really too pretty and makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Damn it all, look away!

“Would you like some breakfast, young miss? I’m afraid we’ve run out of pancakes, but I’d be happy to make some more for you,” the butler says in an awfully familiar British accent. You think you know this person, but you can not remember from where. Shit. Your memory was bad on the best of days, much less after… after an event like last night.

Anyway, the food from earlier had been pancakes. Despite the delicious scent, you really didn’t want to make him make any more food for you. You felt like you were intruding as it was.

“Do you have any toast, or… cereal?” you suggest instead, wondering if rich people even bother with cereal. The butler chuckles, and you think, ‘Oh, yeah, probably not’.

“We have both, miss. Master Grayson has a particular fondness for cereal, in fact,” he informs you, which, oh, cool. You did in fact know that, you stalker you. You’d totally forgotten about that weird fact or the weird fact that you knew that weird fact. Dick Grayson has an Instagram where he posts reviews of different cereals, which of course you have notifications on for.

“It’s more of an obsession,” Tim says, resting his palm in his hand as he… continues to stare at you. Nobody else thinks his ogling is strange, so you try to ignore it as well. Try is the choice word.

“I like cereal too. It’s normal,” you say in defence of Dick, a natural and instinctual urge.

And apparently, the fact that you like cereal is fucking shocking, judging from the open-mouth looks the group gives you. Oh no, you’re supposed to hate him, right? You’re supposed to hate them all, actually. What had you called him on your phone? Something about being annoying and a dickhead?

Swallowing your inner scream, you move around the counter and towards the cupboards. Whatever, they’ll have to deal with this new and improved version of you, which didn’t despise everyone in the room. Along with being a terrible liar, you were also pretty bad at keeping secrets.

You don’t want to think about that, so instead you turn to Alfred.

“So,” you start, “Can I see your cereal collection?” you ask, like a totally normal person. Man, this cupboard’s looking pretty head-smashable right now.

This family has more tact than yours did, because they all manage to put their eyes back to what they were doing and pretend you weren’t acting really, really out of character. Rich people. They’re good at overlooking the crazy.

“Of course,” the butler clears his throat, “In here, you’ll find Master Dick’s collection-” score! Not another fan can claim this right, “-and in the fridge a carton of milk. Are you sure I couldn’t serve it for you, miss? I understand you might still be a little…”

His voice trails off. Little what?

He glances at the others and then leans in close like he’s going to tell you a secret. Behind a hand, he whispers, “Hungover.”

Ah. Well, yes, but you were a big girl who could make her cereal, even on hangover days. Kind of embarrassing it was that obvious, though. You were usually better at hiding how much of a mess you were.

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” you say, and the butler nods and backs off. You’re pretty sure at this point that he was the one who called you yesterday morning, but you still couldn’t quite recall his name. When you were out of sight, you’d check your phone for his contact information.

See? You could do this. Stealthy.

As you start perusing through the cereal options, Tim gets up from his spot by the counter and comes to stand next to you at the breakfast bar. He heads straight to the coffee machine, and you glance at it longingly.

It’s one of those cafe-quality fancy espresso makers, with an Italian name embossed in silver on the top. Tim manipulates the machine like a master, which you’re very jealous of because it might as well be alien technology to you. You miss your shitty drip coffee, at least that dingy little machine was loyal to you. Better than George.

“Coffee?” Tim Drake offers, glancing at you. Ah, the starry eyes are back. While Damian Wayne had been a mildly disappointing introduction, Mr. Drake was just reinforcing your celebrity worship. And of course, because your brain works against you, his offer reminds you of the daydreams you’d had on your first twenty-first birthday. Coffee shop au real person fiction- a new low, even for you.

Flustered, you look up at the ceiling. The old mansion is decorated in every single available corner, the plaster above spreading across the entire surface with delicate filigree and pretty curling patterns. It’s gorgeous, absolutely entrancing. That’s what you tell yourself at least.

“Please,” you say, your voice just the slightest bit too quiet. He hears you anyway.

It’s surprisingly domestic. Of course, you don’t know any of these people past face value and Wired YouTube interviews, but… it’s quite indulgent. This is sort of your dream, isn’t it? A full house of people enjoying their morning together. Peaceful bird song drifting in through open windows. The comfort of being around people you trust, not having to perform or put on a show. Well, you are very much putting on a show right now. It’s the thought that counts, or whatever.

“What would you like in it? We have sugar, milk, oat milk, and I like having a few syrups on hand,” Tim chatters excitedly, listing off the different ingredients he has on offer. Your poor ass stares at his rich one, and you are very rudely reminded these people live in different tax brackets than you.

Who the fuck had coffee syrups in their house? You could barely afford the little treats of caramel syrup you get every couple of months. The disappearance of the middle class was one you had witnessed personally.

You rattle off a very basic, bland order. Tim looks sort of disappointed in you which… well, you could be a coffee snob. You just didn’t have the time, usually. A flat white kept you going through the day, you didn’t need anything else. And so, Tim hands you a very bland coffee, and it is god sent. You can’t imagine how good it would be if you had mustered up your courage and asked for some caramel syrup.

Huh, you could be a coffee snob. You could be anything you wanted, really. And your first thought is being a coffee snob. Good God.

“Are you going to be staying?“ Bruce Wayne asks, immediately putting you on the spot. You weren’t ready for this, you were thinking about the coffees you could buy. Oh no, you really aren’t ready for this.

“At least for now, right?” Tim Drake says, just making it all the more stressful. You let out an awkward chuckle, fingers tight around your drink.

“Oh, I don’t want to be an inconvenience-”

Damian Wayne slams his mug down on the table, so hard a crack splinters up its side. He picks the cup up, strides across the kitchen, narrowed green eyes meeting yours for a second, and then he dumps the cup in a secret rubbish can. He murmurs an apology to the butler and then is out of the room.

Okay, well, you certainly feel like an inconvenience.

The butler clears his throat, and says, “Please forgive young master Damian. He’s been having a difficult time recently, I hope you can understand.”

And you think, ‘bitch, a difficult time?! He’s not the one who almost died last night!’ but what you say is, “Of course, I completely understand. I don’t want to bother him anymore so I’d really like to leave today.”

Mr. Wayne laces his fingers together, blue eyes giving you an assessing look.

“Stay for the day, and you can leave tonight. I want to make sure you’re truly alright,” he eventually says, and the mere presence of the man has you yielding to his commands. Didn’t really matter you were an adult who’d managed to survive this long on your own, you were listening to the big scary guy when he told you what to do.

Well, that’s that! You make your cereal and have a very quiet breakfast. You can’t tell if they’re being quiet because you’re here, or if mornings are usually like this. You hope they’re usually like this. Once you’ve finished your very nice cereal (one of the highest rated on Dick’s Instagram) you place the bowl by the sink. You want to wash it, but when you ask Alfred he gives you a look like you kicked his dog. Okay, you’ll just go then.

You’re about to sneak away, when you realise Tim’s staring at you… again…? But this time he seems quite focused on your clothing. His eyes follow the double lines on the side of your sweatpants, before settling on the Beatles logo on your shirt. He hums at it. Raises his brows.

“I’m sorry, I borrowed this because I didn’t have any other clothes. Is there something wrong with me wearing this?” you ask, and then experience a moment of horror, “This doesn’t belong to you, does it?”

“Hmm?” Tim chirps, “Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s not mine.”

And then he turns away from you in a very clear dismissal. Nice, you really wanted to go hide for an hour or two. With one last awkward wave to Bruce Thomas Wayne, you scurry out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom you’d started thinking of as yours. You need to figure out how you're going to handle all this, and you're going to do it alone. Maybe with some dessert, if you can find it. You wouldn't say you think better with sugar running in your veins, but it definitely makes you more willing to deal with the bullshit that is your life. Hopefully it'd work in your new one, too.

-

Tim listens to your retreating footsteps, waiting till you’re far enough away to begin talking to Bruce. Humans were creatures of habit, so you’d probably be going back to the same room you slept in last night. He thinks Damian and him were the only ones who noticed whose shirt you were wearing, B’s off his game today. You’ve really managed to mess him up, to Tim’s delight.

“See? Dames was totally fine with her being here,” Tim says, cheerily enjoying his youngest sibling’s suffering. Bruce sighs, witheringly, lifting his hand to rub against the headache he always has. He’s probably noticed the excited, slightly fanatic gleam that’s entered into Tim’s eyes.

It was sort of obvious. This was all so exciting! You’d come back, sporting absolutely none of the defensive vitriol you usually have, and ate breakfast together. You took a coffee out of Tim’s hands. You’d willingly spoken to the devil, who everybody in the family knew hated you as much as you hated him, and even more than that-

You’d spoken to Bruce. Tim was sporting the idea that you’d gotten head trauma, at this point in time.

“Okay, fine. You get the mission, but-” Tim has to resist the urge to clap his hands together like a gleeful child “-but no extra cameras. I’m serious, Tim, if I find out you’ve invaded her privacy just after she’s starting to warm up to us again-”

“She wouldn’t know,” Tim complains, cutting the Bat off with a roll of his eyes.

“She’s smarter than you’d think,” Bruce shakes his head. Tim has to disagree, after the catastrophe that was last night. Unless of course, you were just playing with them all. So many options, it’s dizzying.

“We’ll shelve that argument for later. So, I want full control of the case, and in turn, I’ll do another two weeks as CEO,” Tim waves off Bruce’s complaints, going straight into haggling. The CEO position was tossed between the two of them like a hot potato, and it was one of Tim’s favourite bargaining tools.

“I am absolutely not agreeing to that, a month and nothing less.”

“This is why half your children don’t talk to you, but sure, whatever. Chase away your last, loyal loving son-”

“My God, Tim. Three fucking weeks, and if I hear another word I will hand this matter over to Grayson,” Bruce sighs, sounding a bit defeated.

Tim gives an offended gasp, placing his hand against his chest. And then he realises Bruce might actually be serious, and freaks out a bit.

“He’d be bad for it. Far too personally involved. You definitely don’t want to do that,” he says, leg bouncing under the table. Of course, the Bat notices, but he doesn’t mention it. He wouldn’t take this from Tim, they both knew he was getting too frazzled around the edges. He needed something to focus on, to ground him.

You were the perfect project. He loved his projects.

“I am aware. But the girls are out of town, and uncontactable. And I think if I gave Damian this assignment the two of them would kill each other.”

“No Jason option, sir?” Tim says because he’s a shit-stirrer and wants to get to work.

Tim succeeds in chasing Bruce away. He’s left to have his coffee in peace as the old man quickly flees the room at the mention of the son he's on the worst terms with. For the next few hours, Tim taps away on his computer, enjoying his time.

And when the front doors open, his ears prick, and a decidedly evil grin spreads on his face.

“I’m home!” Dick calls out, words travelling through the grand manor.

Tim gets up from his seat and wanders leisurely to the main hall, where Dick stands. He’s got a suitcase by his side, filled with all the things he’s brought up from the Blud. When he spots Tim, Dick’s face spreads in a familiar sunny smile. He quickly rushes to Tim’s side, swallowing the younger brother in a hug. Tim groans at the tight squeezing.

Despite his clinginess, it was good to see him. His tanned skin glowed healthily, and his curly black hair was messy over his brow. Sapphire blue eyes sparkled. He was happy to be home, despite everything that was going on. Dick always looked like he’d just gotten back from a run because he usually had. It was hard to get the guy to sit still for even a minute, much less stop parkouring over every imaginable surface.

“Tim! How’s it been? Ah, it’s so good to be home,” Dick starts, and again, Tim groans. When Dick starts yammering he never stops.

“I’m good, man. We can talk later, you should go put your things away before Alfred does,” Tim reminds Dick, and Dick pouts. It was a general rule that unless it was cooking, the family wasn’t supposed to rely on Alfred for everything.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be down in a minute! I have so much to tell you,” Dick relents, hand lifting to mess with his hair. Tim pushes him off, glaring at the man, and Dick laughs.

Tim gives Dick a tired wave as the gymnast bounds up the stairs to his bedroom. Tim watches him disappear down the hallways, and thinks, ‘I wish I could see this happen.’ He sighs, guess he’ll just have to hear Dick retell the story later. The distant sound of your shrieking voice has him chuckling. Yeah, he’ll hear about it later, he’s sure.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Ravel

A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited

Word count: 2k

Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!

There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.

I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️

Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.

He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.

Your sweater.

The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.

Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.

Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house. 

Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.

As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.

He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.

The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth. 

Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’

‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.

Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’

The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’

‘... A sweater.’

Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’

‘You think?’

‘Want me to go get Lucy?’

With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’

At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’

Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’

Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand. 

The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.

Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.

He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease. 

A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.

He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.

‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’

‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots. 

‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.

Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.

You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’

He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’

His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’

He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’

You frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’

You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.

He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.

Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.

Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.

Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’

You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’

Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’

You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’

Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’

Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.

And yet. 

You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then. 

‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.

He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’

You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips. 

‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’

Joel pauses. 

For him.

For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.

And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.

His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’

It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom. 

‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’

‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.

Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’

You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’

Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’

Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’

He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’

You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’

‘I know you are,’ he smiles.

‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’

His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’

You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.

In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’

His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’

‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.

You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’

Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’

You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’

Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.

Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.

He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.

Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️

More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #goodbye 2023

[eldritch-thrumming]

watched that new jennifer lawrence comedy on netflix and like. should we make it steddie?

steve’s a rich kid who grew up having to be self sufficient because of his parents traveling constantly for work. he’s basically a mini adult, but because of that, he sees himself as a lot more mature than the rest of the people his age and by the time he’s ready for college, he’s missed out on a lot of the social milestones that young men his age are experiencing. instead of going to prom, he’d hung out around the house with his weird nerdy band geek best friend having marshmallow eating contests and watching bad rom coms. instead of going to graduation parties, the two of them had built a tent in the harringtons massive backyard and gone night swimming before camping out.

enter his parents, who are less worried abt steve coming out of his shell for his own independence and comfort and more worried that he’ll embarrass them at his ivy league in the fall. there’s been a long line of harrington men attending yale and they’ve paid a lot of money to even get steve a spot there, so if he fucks this up, if he doesn’t join the right clubs and make the right friends, they’re worried it’ll all be a waste.

so they put an ad on craig’s list. eddie and his bandmates are trolling the boards, looking for any odd jobs they can find to try and raise the cash they need to record a demo at the local studio. jeff points it out as a joke and, after laughing at the poor pathetic dweeb whose parents think he’s such a dud they’re trying to set him up with a stranger, they scroll on. but later that night, eddie pulls up the page on his own phone while he’s lying in bed. the offered amount is more than enough to pay for their studio time and then some. eddie calls them and sets a meeting.

when he gets to the harringtons beach house, he’s nervous. he’s a townie and townies are rarely invited into the massive homes that line the shoreline. he knows what he looks like and he knows that the rich tourists who infest the beachside towns every summer tend to steer clear of him when they see him around.

but he needs the money and after meeting with the couple, he thinks this kid probably needs all the help he can get and so he decides to meet their son steve.

turns out steve’s a lot more attractive than he’d imagined and he’s only a couple of years younger than eddie is. he’s also a lot more flirty and charismatic than eddie had assumed. turns out, steve doesn’t lack the ability to make friends or get dates, he just really hasn’t been interested in anyone… at least, not until now.

they hit it off almost immediately. eddie’s never had this much fun with anyone he’s ever tried to date before. steve is funny and smart in very specific ways and his best friend, robin, is a riot. eddie’s not sure how steve’s parents don’t see any of that, but then steve tells him all about how he’d grown up basically alone, how he’d had to make a lot of his own fun growing up, how he’d rarely ever even seen his parents between the ages of 11 and 18. they hadn’t even made it to his high school graduation. steve reveals to eddie that he’s not even sure he wants to go to yale at all, that he only agreed because he’s not sure what else to do.

and eddie tells steve about his dad, abt how he’d gone to jail when eddie was 13, on a job with eddie in tow. he tells steve abt how his mom was heartbroken afterwards, would barely get out of bed to even pick him up from school. he tells steve abt the car accident, the flashing lights of the police car that had picked him up one day and taken him to a foster home before wayne had been called down from upstate to come collect him. wayne had moved out onto the island, trying not to disrupt eddie’s life more than he had to, but prices down here were so much higher and he’d had to work all the time. he’d done so much for eddie and eddie is so grateful… he just wants to pay him back anyway he can.

they reveal things to each other no one else knows and suddenly, as the summers coming to a close, eddie realizes that he’s been falling in love this whole time. but before he can tell steve abt the deal, before he can apologize and come clean and confess his feelings, steve has some kind of massive blowout with his dad. and his dad—in all his anger—tells steve the truth. he tells steve how steve is so pathetic that he and his mom had had to buy him a boyfriend.

steve is, obviously and understandably, beyond devastated. he confronts eddie with tears in his eyes, begging eddie to tell him it isn’t true, that his dad was a liar and he’d just known where to hit him hardest. but eddie can’t deny it. that is how all this started.

eddie doesn’t see steve again, not around town, not at any of their usual haunts, and soon the school year is starting. steve, eddie assumes, has moved into his dorm at yale and is, hopefully, making new friends. by the time thanksgiving break comes around, eddie can finally think about steve with only a tiny ache in his chest. he and the band have recorded their first demo, thanks to that harrington money, complete with the saddest love song eddie’s ever written.

and suddenly steve is there in the bar eddie works at, where he’d been taking steve on their nights out all summer. his brown hair looks extra soft and he’s wearing a quarter zip with the yale logo emblazoned over his heart. they stand there and stare at each other for a moment too long before they both try to speak at the same time.

“no, me first,” steve says, and eddie really can’t deny him this. he’s the one who ruined everything, after all. “what you did to me was terrible.” it’s straightforward and factual, but eddie’s face burns. “you hurt me. a lot.” eddie watches as steve swallows. “i told you things i’ve never said out loud.” eddie opens his mouth to speak, but steve powers through. “but now i’m up in connecticut and i’m meeting all these new people. and some of them are great. but i can’t help but compare them to you. everyone i meet, i think of you. and no one is as fun as you, and no one makes me feel as good. no one sees me like you did.”

eddie’s speechless for a moment, mouth dry. he swallows. steve’s looking at him expectantly. “i was always honest abt how i felt about you, stevie. i really was falling in love with you. or… i mean…” eddie pauses, runs a hand through his hair. “i mean, i love you. i am in love you, like, currently. ongoing. probably in perpetuity which, uh, you know. is like, forever or whatever.”

“yeah?” steve asks softly, a small smile curving on his lips. “forever or whatever?”

eddie can feel himself returning that small smile, nodding. “yeah,” he responds, “ no biggie, though.”

steve laughs. “i kind of disagree. cause i don’t know abt you, but i’ve never been loved in perpetuity before. seems pretty big to me.” eddie shrugs as he watches steve close the distance, smiles widening. “i’m pretty sure i love you too, you know.”

“pretty sure?”

“i’m trying to be a little aloof abt it. not reveal my whole hand too soon.” they’re standing chest to chest now, eddie can feel steve’s breath on his face, they’re so close.

“right. makes sense,” eddie murmurs, staring steve’s wet pink mouth. and then they’re kissing.

and they kiss until gareth comes into the bar for the start of his and eddie’s shared shift and turns the club soda spout on them.

they have a lot to talk abt. but thanksgiving break is a whole week long and after that it’s only two weeks until winter break. eddie has a lot of time to make it all up to steve, in any way he can, in perpetuity.

#steddie #here have this thing ​is this anything??? #steddie au #steddie ficlet #steddie rom com au #steddie blurb #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlets #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson

[theballadofmars]

RANKING TGCF CHARACTERS BY HOW LONG I THINK THEY WOULD SURVIVE IN FNAF:

12. QI RONG: dies in night 1 at 12:30 A.M because doesn't listen to Phone Guy's instructions and wanders around the pizzeria. Probably kicked an animatronic because he's bored.

11. LANG QIANQIU: tried to be calm and serene about the situation, but gets anxious and angry and goes fight the animatronics. Leaves the security office and Foxy inmediatly kills him.

10. BEEFLEAF: if they're together they die in night 1 because sqx gets braver at hx's side and is curious, goes to explore and brings hx along. Obviously, they get killed.

9. HE XUAN: they go to the kitchen for a midnight snack at 5:00 A.M and finds Chica there. She kills them.

8. FENG XIN: survives night 1 (he didn't listen to the instructions so is a miracle), but runs out of patience in night 2 and fights the animatronics when they try to enter the office instead of closing the door. He loses.

7. SHI QINGXUAN: if they are alone, they will just panic. They talk to the animatronics and scream. Survives two nights (yeyy!!!), but the third night they're so afraid that they close the door and run out of power.

6. QUAN YIZHEN: doesn't listen to Phone Guy's instructions, falls asleep and somehow survives night 1 and 2 like that. Third night is when he can't sleep because of the noise, fights the animatronics to shut them up and ends up getting killed by the Cupcake.

5. PEI MING: so, this may seem a weird placement, but pm is actually pretty competent in his job. Plus, he makes Chica uncomfortable so he only has to fight three animatronics. But by night 4 he becomes too confident in his surviving skills and forgets to check Foxy as much as he should and dies.

4. FENGQING: they would go together, because is fengqing and they're a dynamic duo. They yell all the time, but also work great together. They die at night 4 because they're in the middle of an argument, forget about the animatronics (it's not the first time this happens) and Golden Freddy kills them because he can't deal with them yelling / making out anymore.

3. MU QING: almost survives 5 nights, but after 4 days of this he gets a bit cocky and he's killed at 5.00 A.M by Golden Freddy.

2. XIE LIAN: ok, listen. Xl is about to die every night, but somehow survives at the last minute. The animatronics are pretty confused about this. He ends the week without problem, but when he goes for his paycheck he is bitten by one of the animatronics and spends the rest of his life paying the hospital debt and dealing with ptsd, which you could argue that is worse than death.

1. LING WEN: she's lw. Job with terrible hours, with lots of multitasking where they don't pay you enough to deal with this shit? That's her territory. Survives 5 nights + the extra night + custom night 20/20 mode.

HONORABLE MENTIONS for characters that didn't make it to the ranking because they're just like that:

-HUA CHENG: he's not trapped with the animatronics, the animatronics are trapped with him. This bitch would survive the first night and come back the next day with a bat made of steel and break every animatronic. Then burns the place down. If this is after xl gets bitten, the animatronics don't survive even a day.

-HUALIAN: they fuck in the security office. The animatronics are uncomfortable and don't approach them.

-SHI WUDU: works one night, then sues the company. He's now the owner of Fazbear Enterteiment. And maybe William's next victim.

-YUSHI HUAN & PEI SU: spent one night there, don't come back because it's not worth it.

-YIN YU: is Phone Guy. He dies at night 4 but special mention anyway because Phone Guy.

-JUN WU: would be the fucking killer. Gets springlocked and makes it everyone's problem.

#tgcf #heaven's official blessing #hualian #fengqing #beefleaf #qi rong #ling wen #pei ming #shi wudu #lang qianqiu #jun wu #pei su #fnaf #yushi huan #quan yizhen #yin yu

[mikalame]

Pick- up

going out on a limb here lol havent written smut in god knows but i had this idea like ages ago and just wanted to write it down. please dont judge this kinda made me cringe a couple times lol

warnings: SMUT, phone masterbation, R.I.P Bill

Toms POV

"Fuck ___ pick up, pick up, pick up" Tom mutters into his phone the high pitched call ringing in his ear. The sound turning off and the beeping of a missed call is now echoing in the quiet room. Tom looks over to check if Bill is still asleep, the only think tom can see is his brothers back facing him on the single bed across the room.

Tom breaths a sigh of relief, if Bill knew what Tom really wanted he would be kicked out and made to sleep in the hallway as ___ wasn't picking up, Gustav and Georg love their privacy way to much to want Tom to sleep in their rooms so that was a no go as well.

"Fuck sakes" Tom groans, he lifts his bed sheets to see if his hard on is getting any softer but to no avail. Another time this would be great, he could go sneak into ___ room fuck her to his hearts content give her a quick little i love you kiss then sneak back before Bill and the others wake up.

But no, it just had to be on the day where they all had to get up at the ass-crack of dawn. Looking to his bed side table the clock flashing 11: 15 pm, not to late into the night but everyone is probably trying to get some rest of the big day tomorrow including ___.

Deciding to give it one more call he reaches for his phone chucked somewhere in his messed up sheets. Scrolling quickly to try and find her number in his phone catalogue, groaning quietly when his boxers rub against his sensitive cock.

"Please, please,please, pick up ___, god" he groans feeling a tad bit guilty about waking her up but god did he need help right now. As the beeping sound of a missed call sounds again he groans giving up hope that she would pick up.

'Bing' his phone rings. Toms head whips over to his phone, flipping it open and seeing that he had a new message from ___ his heart pumping wondering if he was actually going to do this, but the quickly making up his mind as he had now dragged ___ into his problem.

___ POV

The ringing of my phone wakes me up again. I roll my eyes getting annoyed at who ever keeps ringing me at such a late hour. One more ring goes off and i groan if frustration and snatch my phone from the bedside table.

I shut my eyes tight as the blinding lights flash me, as i get used to the brightness and can actully see whats on the tiny screen i see its from my boyfriend Tom with like a bazillion calls next to his name.

I get the reason Bill spilt us up, not wanting to her the headboard slam against the shared wall or the gasps and moans as we fuck each other to over stimulation but oh well. It does feel weird not having Toms warm body pressed against my back, his wandering hands running up and down my thing or his soft breath on the back of my neck but i digress.

Texting him quickly the letters on my screen pop up slowing, still groggy from just waking up but i manage to get a go enough sentence to send.

Me- Hey babe whats up why you ringing to late at night??? Tom- Please i need you, ive had this boner for like ages and it wont go away please help. Me-Really Tom a boner you woke me up in the middle of the night cause your horny Tom- Yes baby i know it sound stupid but its so sentitive right now and i cant bare it please Me- Why dont you just jerk off then? Tom-yeah but i dont got any sexy pictures of you on my phone to use and i get to distracted to make anything up in my head, can you just call me please

You furrow your eyebrows in amusement before another ding went off, wondering what Tom has to say now you open the chat log and see Toms cock standing tall, tip swollen and red, pre dripping from it already. You wont lie but seeing his dick even with the shitty lighting from the camera flash gives you that warm feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

Tom- please baby, i cant take it no more

He types in the chat. Your a bit confused as to what to do, wondering if he wanted to come into your room as him and bill are sharing a room and that wound be weird or if he wanted to have phone sext which your havent done before.

Me- So do you want to come over to my room or what?? Tom- To risky bills got some sorta fancy security thing set up on the door to make sure i didnt try and come to yours well just call okay Me- Wont Bill hear you on call though? Tom- I'll be quite baby dont worry

is the last text you get before the phone rings again. Not waiting another second you pick up that call, flicking your bedside table lamp on and sitting up against the headboard, your thighs tightening in anticipation.

Hearing a groan from the other side of the call you assume Tom has already started to try and get rid of his problem. You hear shilick noises which you can guess if Tom working his hand up and down before another low groan reaches your ears.

"Hey baby"Tom whispers a slight chuckle at the end, "Hey Tommy, really that bad is it?" you giggle finding this all a bit to amusing."Fuck you have-mmh no idea" he groans half way through talking "say some thing baby- need to hear- ngh- need to hear you noise fuck please, talk about - anything ugh" tom moans in a hushed noise.

You hear the bed creak through the phone wondering if he was thrusting up into he hand, the same way he does when you give him blow-job. Not having a clue what to say you just repeat things you have heard him say when hes close to cumming, words flowing out of his mouth as the high hits him.

"Fuck~ ___, need you so bad" he voice pitched higher then before his hand jerking him off faster." What do you want tom huh? you want my mouth to suck you off or just my hands maybe both though i bet you would like that" hearing a louder groan from the other side signalling to you that he was getting closer you keep going. "Yeah you like that, face fuck me, making me choke on your dick hmm".

Toms POV

Fast gasps come out of my mouth the knot in my stomach getting bigger, i move you phone to rest between my ear and my shoulder and move my other hand to my balls kneading them slowly. The extra movement adding to the stimulation my body starts heating up and i feel myself get closer.

___ spewing words into my ear, the sanarios of want we could be doing if there wasnt a wall between us carring me furter to my climax. I grip my cock harder aswell as my balls going faster letting out a few loudish moans quickly looking over to bill to see if hes woken up but his body still relaxed and not moving.

"Fuck ___-ngh- im gonna-Fuck!" you groan into my phone, my body tensing, my hips rising further to meet my hand, my back arching with my eyes rolling back as the high hits me hard. I bite onto my bottom lip really not wanting Bill to wake up at this point, fisting my dick again riding out my high i let a few moans out just to let ___ know that i was cumming.

As my body slumps back down onto my bed i let go of my now softening cock letting it rest on my lower stomach. Letting my breath get back to normal and cleaning up my cum before talking to ___.

"Thank so much babe, fuck i really needed that" i say with a much clearer tone "No problem babe, i hope you know that your gonna have to fuck me in the morning i don't care when but this phone sex thing god it hot, but id rather have you fuck me then listen over the phone of you get what i mean" she giggles.

We quickly say our good bye as i try and get some sleep, looking back at Bill seeing his back turned i can only pray that he didn't wake up, my eyes drifting to the clock flashing 11:39. I pull my body deeper into the bed my eyes only now feeling heavy as i slowly drift of to sleep.

TIME SKIP

I wake up the sun barely up but lighting up the room enough without lights looking towards bill bed seeing he not there must mean he up and about probably in a very pissy mood but still. Grabbing my socks and slipping them on i walk around to ___ room, seeing shes not there i raise my brow. I walk to Gustavs next, no one there i huff walking down the corridor all the way to Georg room, knocking a few times before jiggling the door handle to see if it was unlocked it was....

Opening the door i was met with everyone's faces: Bills face scrunched in disgust, Gustav mouth hanging open, Georg looking like he was about to die if he kept his laughter in any longer which seemed to be right as he busted out laughing clutching his stomach. ___ face in her hands i get the gist that ether ___ told them about our call or Bill woke up and told them.

"You couldn't of waited!" Bill shouts, my question getting answered. "Hey my plan was to go to ___ room but you had that fancy lock on so" i say not caring to much i grab a coke from the fridge and sit down next to ___ opening it a placing my arm around her shoulder giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I told you he was gonna wake up" she says leaning her head on my shoulder as we watch Bill rant about last night with Georg dieing from laughter and Gustav in shock. "Oh well, he'll get over it" i chuckle taking a sip from my coke.

YALL i hope you liked please leave requests they are open 😁

Taglist @oppopotamus@adissonsss@violentnewmarley@saumspam

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz smut

[geraldmariaivo]

I recently saw a DP/DC post about Jason being Danny’s bio dad, and I want to spit out my own idea of it:

1) Jason doesn’t know he has a kid. He’ done a lot of shady things and met a lot of shady people, and you can’t tell me he remembers every night of it.

2) Danny knows he’s adopted, he just doesn’t care.  3) Danny suddenly has to care one day because of Ghost Prince legality reasons where he needs his parent/gaurdian to sign something important because he’s a child, and Clockwork refuses to. Obviously he can’t bring this to Jack&Maddie, and Jazz isn’t old enough to sign either, so he tries to find his biological parents to maybe only slightly bully this hapless civilian into signing a piece of paper that says Danny *can* sign things, and then fuck off. 

4) Danny sets off to find his bio-parents only to find that his mother is dead and not a ghost, and his father is somewhere in Gotham. Which is where the Bats are. 

5) With a bit of help from his court and Wulf, Danny scours the city to find whoever the hell this “Jason” is, because just knowing his first name clarifies very little in a city like Gotham.

6) A few of the court physicians accompanies this search party because they’re headed to Gotham, and there’s no telling what kind of bullshit will happen, even if there’s no ecto-weaponry within a hundred miles.

7) One of the oldest physicians encounters Red Hood, and is immediately revolted by the nasty-ass ectoplasm they haven’t seen since Pariah was locked up the first time. Naturally their first impulse is to get this absolutely wretched ectoplasm out of this human as soon as possible.

8) Jason, naturally, doesn’t trust this glowing green person who makes the Pit writhe and try to get away. As such, he makes getting any kind of ghostly medical attention as difficult as possible.

9) Medic #1 gives up doing it solo, and conscripts the other medical personnel to help them effectively pin Jason (now out of costume) down while they filter out the nasty shit and replace it with clean ectoplasm from the Realms so his body doesn’t go through shock from suddenly having no ectoplasm.

10) Jason is still riled up and suspicious as hell, but he does notice that the Pit isn’t really there anymore. There’s still something there, but it’s not the constant anger he’s learned to live with. It’s calm, almost peaceful, actually. It takes all of two seconds listening to them giving out instructions to realize that they’re behaving like actual, good doctors giving out real medical advice. They repeat themselves when needed, and make sure to go over the whole of their instructions thrice to make sure he knows what they’re saying. It’s incredibly weird for Jason, but if drinking this weird not-pit-water stuff once a week or if he’s craving it from this weird glowing container is what keeps the Pit from bothering him 24/7, then so be it.

11) Jason asks what the actual fuck these people are doing here, because Metas generally know to stay away from Gotham.

12) They explain that they’re ghosts, and that they’re with a search party looking for a man with the first name Jason, and is likely to have black hair, blue eyes, or both.

13) Jason immediately puts together that they’re looking for him, because he knows his life well enough that he knows there’s no hope that the Jason they’re looking for is some random civilian who happens to have black hair and blue eyes.

14) Jason asks why they want to find this man, and if they have a way to confirm whether or not the person they find is actually the person they’re looking for. He nearly has a stroke when they say that they need him to sign some important thing because his son -which, WHAT?!?! When did he have one of those?!?!?!- is the High Prince of the Infinite Realms, whatever the fuck that means, but can’t sign official documents into law since he’s a minor.

15) Jason, against his better judgement, tells them his name, and says it’s possible that he’s the Jason they’ve been looking for.

16) He is right.

17) Jason has to grapple with the fact that he not only had a son he didn’t know about, but the son also died before he could meet the kid, and then apparently became the prince of the dead. 

18) Somewhere in this time, Danny (as Phantom) finds out about the nasty Lazarus water from his physicians, and tells Jason that Amity Park is a place where he can find much better ectoplasm if the man needs it for health reasons, and that he just needs to contact the right people. Preferably one of the local vigilantes rather than the Drs. Fenton.

Timeskip (how far depends on what you want to do in the meantime)

19) Red Hood goes to Amity park on Bat business. This is where Danny and Jason each find out about the clusterfuck that is the other’s life.

20) Shenanigans.

#i made this post #dp x dc #jason todd #danny fenton #danny phantom

[bkgml]

katsuki taking care of drunk you!

you and katsuki were in a weird place.

you both know you want each other, (so does the entire dorm). you’ve just never confessed so you’re in a weird stage of being more than friends but less than lovers.

earlier today kami got an invite from one of his one night stands to a party at a local college. she said to bring whoever he wants, so he invited you, bakugou, kirishima, mina, and jiro. you were so excited, if you could get katsuki to have a beer with you, maybe he’d loosen up a little and you could talk about your ‘situation’.

until bakugou had the genius idea to be the designated driver. why does he have to be so stupid and responsible?

guess you’re drinking away your problems tonight.

you get ready with the girls, giggling and bringing multiple outfits to mina’s dorm so she could pick for you.

“yn! you should literally wear none of these!” she saying laughing.

“you want bakugou to take notice of you tonight right?” she asks.

“well i mean a little bit, but not just for him! i’m independent!” you yell and jiro whoops.

“you’ve been independent for too long yn! it’s time to take what you want! i think, you should wear…. this!” she says pulling a dress out of her closet.

the perfect little black dress.

“okay i’m with mina now!!” jiro! how could she betray you like this!

you laugh and hold the dress up to yourself in the mirror.

“alright, alright! but only cause i’m going to look good in this.” you say shocked.

the girls cheer and you all finish getting ready.

“what the hell’s taking so long.” bakugou grumbles to his friends in the hallway.

“relax, bakugou we’re here!” you say, walking down the hallway with your girls.

“wow! you guys look great!” kirishima says, proud.

“thanks kiri!” the three of you say together.

you all get in the car and head to the party.

as you pull up, you take notice of the massive place you’re going to.

“holy shit! this is going to be awesome! our first college party!” mina squeals.

“none of you little shits better get lost, or pass out, or nothing. we’re all meeting back in this car at midnight or you’re all fuckin dead.” bakugo warns.

a chorus of ‘fine’ sings as you all get out and head to the party.

you spend the night trying to forget your issues with bakugou, by drinking, dancing, drinking, talking to your friends, drinking.

“haven’t you had enough?” bakugou says in your ear.

“lighten up. it’s a party, remember?” you say, walking away.

bakugou grumbles and goes to find a wall to lean on, so he can stand there and glare at you and your friends.

some loser chick tries to talk to him, and he looks her way to turn her down as politely as he can.

but as he looks back, you’re fucking gone.

“what the fuck? i looked away for one goddamn second.” he says to himself. eyes scanning the party in search of you.

after a minute of searching he hears a guy ask you to go upstairs with him. he’s about to lose his shit before he sees you walking up the stairs with him.

he scoffs. are you joking right now?

“yo!! bakugou! is that yn? whys she going upstairs with that guy? thought she liked you.” kirishima says.

“yeah. so did i.” he grumbles.

“well are you sure she wants to be going upstairs with him? she had a lot to drink” kirishima asks.

fuck he didn’t even think of that. he didn’t hear you say yes.

he stomps towards you, he needs to make sure you’re okay.

suddenly he sees your quirk activate, the guy sent into the wall.

you turn and see bakugou. fuck you need out of here.

“katsuki!” you say, rushing towards him.

katsuki? his heart jumps.

“hey, hey, what’s goin on?” he asks with his hands on your shoulders.

“wanna go home.” you slur.

fuck you’re so drunk.

“yeah, come on.” he says while leading you towards the rest of the group.

“alright dipshits, let’s go.” he says.

“whattt, but it’s not even 11:30!” mina defends.

“we’re going. now.” he says walking away, pushing you along with him.

you guys make it outside before you’re running into a bush to hurl your guts out.

“shit. come on, yn. you alright?” he says, rubbing your back, soothingly.

you stand straight and wipe your mouth.

“i wanna goooo.” you whine, pouting.

“i know, let’s get you home.”

you all get into the car, katsuki guides you to the passenger seat.

“but this is kiris seat.” you say, feeling guilty for taking it.

“i know, he won’t mind though, okay? you’re so sweet for thinkin of him.” he runs his fingers through your hair and you lean into his touch.

you all get into the car. while katsuki drives he keeps an eye on you, squirming in your seat.

“katsuki, i dont feel good.” you whine.

the car goes silent. you called him by his first name? and he didn’t murder you??

katsuki glares at them for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. a silent ‘dont fuckin say a word’ warning and the people in the car resume to their normal chattiness.

“i know you don’t, yn. we’re almost there, okay? just hang on.” he soothes.

you stop squirming and try to take deep breaths to settle your stomach.

“alright we’re here, get out.” katsuki says to the idiots in his back seat.

once they leave katsuki gets out and opens your door for you. you run past him and throw up in another bush.

“fuck, are you okay?” katsuki asks.

“i wanna go to sleep, katsu.” you mumble.

katsuki takes you inside and walks you to your dorm.

“where are your keys, yn?” he asks and you hand them to him.

he opens your door and steps inside.

“are you done throwing up for tonight?” he asks cautiously.

“think so.” you hiccup.

“go brush your teeth, kay? i’ll get your pyjamas.” he says and gently pushes you into your bathroom.

he looks around your room and guesses which drawer your pyjamas sit in. thankfully, he guesses right. 

he picks some pyjamas for you and lays them on your bed.

you come out of the bathroom looking more refreshed.

“alright, you’re all set. see you tomorrow during your hangover.” katsuki says, turning on his heel and waking to your door.

“wait!” you call to him. he turns to you.

you walk to him and kiss him. hard. trying to start something you can’t finish. at least you used mouthwash.

“hey, hey, hey, no.” he says pulling you off him.

“please? i can’t do this waiting thing anymore katsuki.” you plead with him.

“i’m sorry, but i’m not doing this for the first time with someone who probably won’t even remember it in the morning.” he sighs, walking away again.

you run up to him again and wrap your arms around him, your cheek pressed to his back.

“i’m sorry. i made you upset.” you say.

god you’re so drunk.

he turns in your grip.

“i’m not upset, baby. i just don’t want us doing something we’ll regret cause you were drunk.”

you look up at him with wide, glossy eyes.

“will you stay the night with me? i don’t feel good and you’re so warm.” you plead.

he thinks for a moment. would you freak out if he was in your bed and you don’t remember why, maybe… but you trust him enough to believe why.

“okay, i’ll stay. get into the bathroom and change. i’ll wait for you.” he says, ushering you to the bathroom.

“promise you won’t leave?” you ask.

“i promise.” he pats your head and goes to sit on your bed.

thank god he wore comfortable clothes. you would probably have a harder time believing that nothing happened if he was in his boxers.

a couple minutes go by until you step out of the bathroom. you shyly walk up to him and sit in his lap.

you’re clingy when you’re drunk.

you wrap your arms around his neck and rest your head on his chest.

he laughs lightly and swings his legs onto your bed before pulling the covers over the two of you. you being completely on top of him, curled into a little ball to help settle your stomach.

he runs his fingers through your hair and you kiss his peck in response.

maybe he’ll let dunce face drag you two to a couple more parties.

part 2

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #bakugou katuski x reader

[emilio-the-dumb-wrestler]

Stephen was the above average joe. Muscular. Huge package. Standing at 6’4”. When he walked into a room people stopped and stared looking a the muscled specimen that heaved the room. And with large size 16 feet you could hear him coming too.

Stephen had a perfect life but where someone is so perfect there has to be a downfall. Stephen’s was that he always took advantage of those close to him. He was able to be so muscular and hot spending all his time in the gym and never once helping his boyfriend, Matt, pay for rent. He was a leach. Every night he would come home dripping sweat. Kick off his massive shoes leaving them where they fell. He would drop his dirty sweat clothes in the hall way and never clean after himself. Then while still dropping sweat, flop down on the couch. Staining even more than what he already has. But it was time. And his boyfriend had had enough.

While Stephen fell asleep like he always did on the couch, his boyfriend still in front of him with a menacing glance. Holding the book he had from his family he began to chant the spell to make Stephen change.

Stephen was dreaming about plowing the hot gym bunny. Bending him over the sink and thrusting himself in. And all the while began to scream while he was having sex …

“….and this vessel must change to meet this new form!” His boy friend finished reading. And then he seen the fine print,,, there had to be an agreement from the one the spell was going to effect. He began to panic. How would he get Stephen to agree to…”YES YES ! FUCK ME !!!” Matt’s mouth dropped. How could this have happened in a more perfect moment. Stepping back slowly he hid the book. Now. Watching as his boyfriend began to change.

Soon Stephen’s well defined abs began to push outwards. His legs began to get fuller and he also began to shrink in height. His pecs quickly lost all definition as they were hidden under a thick layer of fat and his stomach continued to balloon out warden. Hair began to sprout from ever office of his body giving him in a thick coat of fur. His feet got shorter becoming a size of extremely wide and thick size 11s. He had little sausage toes now while his fingers fattened up. His butt began to inflate and sag as it widened and his back began to grow wide to match. A thick unkempt beard began to grow out of his face while he started balding. What was once a hunk before now looked like an out of shape 45 year old man. Matt smiled at his creation. Knowing that there was more to come.

Matt woke up to screams from the living room. Walking in he seen Stephen looking at his phone and trembling. “What the fuck has happened to me !!” Matt asked him. What he was talking about. All a part of his plan to make Stephen lose his mind. He was going to treat Stephen like the fat older man he was now. Even though he was the only other person in the world now that would remember what he is really supposed to be like. “Phen. You need to stop acting weird. It’s time for you to go to work. I wasn’t able to wash your janitor uniform though. “ Stephen just looked at him. Whatever happened seemed to have changed reality he thought. He had to get out of there. And sadly. It seems as though the dirty uniform was the only thing that would fit him. Before he left the apartment Matt handed him some pills “don’t forget your pills Phen. You know you need your heart meds and that cholesterol needs to come down. Try not to eat those 4 double cheeseburger for lunch again” he said as he kissed Stephen’s fatter face.

Work was hard for Stephen. He found that at his new size and short let height he was screed on all aspects of life now. He was the lowly janitor of the gym he worked at ! And people would just throw dirty clothes on him and expect him to always be at their whim for cleaning. During his lunch break he wanted to find a way to fix this. He had to get his old body back ! But then he caught glimpse of it. The burger signs. And drawn by an impossible force he walked over. Walking through the doors he was greeted by the cashier. Working his wallet out of his pocket with his meaty hands he paid for his food. 5 double cheeseburgers. And he ate ever bite. Licking the grease from the wrappers and his fingers. He was forced by some unseen force to be the fat animal he looked like. Walking back home he could help but feel winded. His lunch should have. Been enough to make him feel full for days but his stomach was growling like an angry bear. He felt so tired. As he walked through the apartment door he shuffled his wide feet down the hallway and looking in the mirror began to cry.

Somehow during the day he had gotten older. And much bigger. What little muscle definition he had was completely gone. Now his stomach was rock hard and protruding in an impossible beach ball stomach. Completely bald with white facial hair. Matt came around the corner and Stephen cried. He pleaded for Matt to remember him. “Phen. Are you ok? I know you’re jealous of my youth. But we’ve talked about this. You’re a 61 year old man. You have to come to terms with that!” And he walked off. That number reverberated in Stephen’s head.

Walking around the beach no was no longer fun for Stephen. He was getting looks now but not for his hot young body. It was for the massive beach ball he carried. He had been stuck like this for a whole month at this point. Continuing to try to find a way to change back there just has to be one. Matt came walking up to him with food. “You know one day. I’m going to stop giving into her hunger. We gotta find someway to get you. Lose weight Phen”. Phen aggressively at the multiple cheese burgers, fries and shake that Matt had brought him. Matt watched his creation. Everything from that night with spell had come true. An intense appetite that never went away, old age, massive bloated stomach with no muscle definition, and all the pains that would come with his body being like this. He knew that Phen was trying to find a way back. To get his old body back so he could be happy. But little did he know, that the Matt altered the working of the spell. “And when you agree to this the changes will be permanent”.

[kissablening]

SECRETS & WEBS — s.rj oneshot

pairings: spiderman!ryujin x roommate fem!reader

summary: your roommate, shin ryujin, turns out to be the citys superhero , spiderman but you are unaware of that..

warnings: language

wc: 827

note: oneshot debut👀👀 , lmk if yall want another part to this lol!!

IT was about 11 pm on a Sunday night, usually you’d be in bed, ready to sleep— but you had an important exam tomorrow so you used all the extra time you had to study for it.

You sigh at the thought of taking your exam tomorrow, it was infact a math exam and to your luck you were horrible at the subject.

Your roommate, shin ryujin aka the nerd of the house, promised to help you with studying today which was another reason you were still awake, waiting for her to return to your apartment even though it was late as hell.

You sat in silence, thinking about the answer to the 4th question on the study guide ryujin made you before she left, she made sure it was as difficult as the exam because damn, you were struggling on it too.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud coming from the front of the apartment, this freaked you out because usually, ryujin messages you 5 minutes before she arrives home. You quickly grab the bat sitting in the corner of your room before slowly opening your room door to go check what the thud was.

The only source of light was coming from your room since you earlier turned off any light you werent using to help the light bill a little. Rushing to turn on the living room light, the front door was still unlocked but the light to ryujins room was on.

Okay, what the fuck.

“Ryu, is that you? Are you home?” you call out, making sure it was her in her own room and not a intruder. You let out a sigh of relief after hearing her swear under her breath. You discard the bat somewhere on the sofas in the living room before walking towards ryujins bedroom.

You tried just walking into her room as you always do but the door was locked. weird. “ryu what was that thud about? are you okay in there?”

“Im fine yn, just dropped my dumbell on the floor.” she responds almost out of breath. weird x2.

“dumbell? since when did you have dumbells?” You question putting your ear to the door so you could hear her better, instead you hear her unlocking the door so you quickly moved away waiting for her to open it.

She opens the door standing in the door frame with a smirk on her face, yes you said she was a nerd, but she was still popular in school, played sports, basically your local f-boy with an actual big brain. “What do you mean since when did i have dumbells? do you think i just have these abs through genetics?” She taunts motioning her hand up and down her body. your eyes follows her hands eyeing her body, your eyes widened, “Like what you see? well you can always—”

“SHIN RYUJIN WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU, SERIOUSLY WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING SO MUCH!!! OH MY GOD I NEED TO GET THE FIRST AID KIT.” You panic after seeing the large bloody cut on the side of ryujins torso, running to find a first aid kit. Ryujin eyes widened and looked down.

Ryujin curses to herself in her head for forgetting to heal that spot, she expected You to be sleeping by this time, what she wasn’t expecting was her roommate finding the large cut a villain left on her, that she forgot to heal.

She slowly stops the bleeding on the wound, enough that you wont notice its stopped completely. She could hear your footsteps becoming louder.

Standing up straight placing her hand on her cut, she watched as you guided her to the dining table, sitting her down in the chair, placing the first aid kit onto the table.

“Seriously ryu are you an idiot? How the hell did u even get a cut this big?” You scold patting the cut down with alcohol wipes.

“Ahaha, its no big deal babe, i didnt even feel a thing.” Ryujin replies smiling down at the girl whose glaring at her through her reading glasses. “So, whyre you still up at this time, yn?”

“I was..waiting for you.” You say shyly , wrapping the wound in a bandage. “And all done, youre welcome.”

Ryujin ruffles her hair before standing up, secretly healing the wound in the process. “Awww, you were waiting for me?” She grabs yn’s cheeks.

Your cheeks heat up immediately, ryujin was always a flirt so why is this effecting you right now? “N..No! I was waiting for you to help me study ryujin. You promised..”

“Oh shit I did, im sorry ill help you study now.” Ryujin says grabbing your hand, leading you to her room to help you study. Letting out a sigh of relief that you didn’t bombard her with questions about why she was home so late.

“Oh by the way.. why were you home so late? its nearly 1 am.”

Shit.

⋆｡°✩🕸️🕷️✮⋆˙

#⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ࣪𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #ryujin x fem reader #ryujin itzy #itzy ryujin #ryujin x reader #shin ryujin #ryujin #itzy #oneshot #fanfic #kissablening stories #𓍢 ›𓂃 ִֶָ ࣪

[richiekirschs]

SHE’S MY BABY — Spider-Man!Lottie Matthews

and i hope you don’t save some other girl…

warnings— fem reader (she/her used), typical spider-man shenanigans, gun mentions, ooc lottie probably

[part 1]

lottie: when did you want to get coffee

lottie: 11:15 at little collins?

you: isn’t that in the city?

lottie: yeah but i can venmo you for the ferry fee

you: no it’s fine i can take the bridge

lottie: ok see you tmrw

you: here

you: sitting in a booth towards the back

Lottie’s late.

You’re anxiously checking your phone screen over and over, trying to make sure you haven’t missed any rain-check texts.

11:28. Nothing.

You fidget in your seat, bouncing your leg, looking at the door with hopeful eyes whenever the bell chimes.

At exactly 11:30, the door swings open, a frantic Lottie rushing in from the other side.

“I’m sorry!” she immediately says, collapsing into the booth. “This guy stole an old lady’s purse, and then—“

“Lottie,” you interrupt, “calm down. I’m not mad, I just thought you forgot.”

“No,” she promises, still a bit out of breath. “No, I actually swung over here.”

“What, like, with your webs?”

“Would you lower your voice?” she hisses.

“It’s New York, Lot,” you deadpan. “I literally saw a man taking a shit on the sidewalk.” You lock eyes with a man at the counter, leaning back to stretch his arms. You jerk your thumb at Lottie as you say, “She’s Spider-Man.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says before turning back to his phone.

You sip from your drink. “So how exactly did this happen? Is this your weird attempt at a fursona?”

“It’s not a fursona,” she mumbles defensively. “I got bit by a spider. I guess it was, like, radioactive or something.”

“Radioactive?” you repeat. “Like the dogs in Chernobyl?”

“Yeah,” she replies, “except I didn’t grow any extra teeth like those fish. I fell onto this lady on the subway the night after and my hand got stuck to her shirt, and I… ripped it off…” She flushes pink.

“How the fuck did that happen?”

“I’m, like… sticky,” she informs you, embarrassed as she flexes her hands. You wrinkle your nose at sticky. “And I get these weird tingles right before something happens.”

“Does the web come out of you?” you question, genuinely intrigued.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “I don’t have extra legs, though, before you ask.”

“How’d you get out last night?”

“I put the suit back on in the shower, then went back out the window. I went down the balcony into your bedroom. Natalie came in, though, so I hid on… the ceiling…” As the words leave her mouth, she clearly realizes how weird it sounds.

“I’m impressed, Lot,” you admit. “It’s been a year, and I never would’ve guessed it was you. I thought you had some secret lover and that’s why you were sneaking around.”

It’s her turn to wrinkle her nose. “God, no. I felt really bad about always leaving you, though.”

You shrug. “It’s definitely not as bad as when Tai and Van coincidentally sneak off to go have sex. They’re not even subtle about it.”

Lottie laughs, but she shifts uncomfortably, like someone just licked their finger and stuck it in her ear.

You frown. “You okay?”

She looks up, but it’s almost like she’s looking through you. Her eyes track movement in the window at your back.

She grabs her backpack. “I have to go.”

You turn around, but there’s nothing there. You whip back around to face her. “What the hell, Lottie?”

“I’m sorry!” she insists. “I’ll—I’ll call you, okay?”

She doesn’t give you time to respond before she’s sprinting out the door of the café, chasing down whatever she’d seen behind you.

You’re upset, to say the least.

You walk back to the ferry parking garage where you’d parked, grinding your teeth. If it were a cartoon, you might have steam coming out of your ears.

You have to take three laps around the garage before you finally find your car.

But as you approach your car, you can see a figure yanking at your driver’s side door.

“Hey!” you shout. “What the fuck?”

“This your car?” he asks.

“I’m not shouting at you for fun,” you snap.

“Give me your keys,” he commands.

“No, I’m not gonna give you my keys!”

He shoves his hand into the pocket of his jacket and points it at you. “Give me the fucking keys!”

“I can see your thumb sticking out, I know you don’t have a gun! It’s a piece of shit anyway, just back off—“

He starts forward, but he only gets a few steps in before something shoots past you—you literally blink and miss it, and when you look back at the man attempting to carjack you his hand is stuck to the wall with a fucking web.

Fucking Lottie.

“I thought she told you to back off, man,” Lottie sighs.

“Why do you sound like that?” the man asks, which is the same thing you’re wondering.

You know it’s Lottie, of course. But she’s using some weird, Ghostface-esque voice modulator.

“Sound like what?” she bluffs.

“No, I heard you earlier,” the man insists, “when you were chasing me. I know what a girl sounds like.”

“I’m not a girl!” Lottie shouts. “I’m a boy! Fuck—a man!”

If you hadn’t just been a victim of an attempted carjacking (and possibly murder), you would’ve bust out laughing. Lottie’s voice sounded very Mickey Altieri—it’s time, girlfriend!

“Man, I really don’t care,” the man shrugs, defeated.

Lottie mumbles, “Interrogation mode, off,” before turning back to you. “Go home, okay?”

You nod, surprisingly relieved by Lottie saving the day. You get into your car and turn the key.

“That’s gonna dissolve in 2 hours, okay?” Lottie tells the man, who’s still stuck to the wall.

“What?” he exclaims. “No, I need to get home!”

She jogs off. “2 hours! You deserve that!”

You can’t help but laugh as you start your drive home.

KITTY MEOWS! I pray this was as good as y’all wanted it to be… the second half is very heavily based on the scene of Donald Glover in Homecoming I thought it would be silly for Lottie 😞

#lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #courtney eaton

[lucerothings1]

Someone’s been a naughty boy

This is not my photo it is Fwsfakes

John Krasinski x male reader smut

Warnings : gay sex, top John, bottom reader, oral, fingering, role play.

Summary: you get home to find your husband John next to the Christmas tree with your Christmas gift.

Today was finally Christmas Eve but it had sucked since you did have to work now you where on your way home finally excited to be at home with your husband John to spend time with him.

As you had pulled up to the drive way now you had received a text from your husband “Hey baby I’ve got a present for you come to the living room right away” he texted.

“Hey I’m in so what is this present of mine babe” you yelled out going into the house and closing the door behind you. As you walked into the living room you where shocked to come face to face with your almost naked husband sitting on a chair in front of the Christmas tree with a Santa hat and a small red cloth draped over his man hood.

“Hey M/n someone’s been telling me you’ve been a naughty boy lately is that true” John said seductively to you. “I guess if my name is on the naughty list and people are taking it must be true” you said going along with the role play as you started to undress your self. You didn’t feel weird since John was into this kinda thing so it wasn’t really a shocker to find your husband like this so

“Well since it’s true I guess I will have to give you coal this year and some sort of punishment” “why don’t you give me a different kind of rock this year Santa” you said now fully naked and on your knees in front of John as you ripped off the cloth revealing his hard as a rock 11 inch cock.

“I guess that can be arranged” he said getting a hold of your neck as he started to sink you on to his cock “yeah naughty boy suck that cock” he said pushing you down more.

“Mm you think I might get a present after all” he said to you as you moved to reach your aching hole as you continued to suck him off. “Ah-yeah you got a nice hot hole here boy” he said as he spit on his fingers and had begun to shove his digits past your entrance.

As he continued to fuck you with his fingers “Okay boy give me a minute” he said as he got up and laid on the floor and motioned you to get on top “come on you naughty boy ride me” he said.

As you got on top of him chest to chest as he grabbed you by the waist “Ah-yeah that’s it take it boy” he said shoving passed your entrance and right away hitting your prostate as you moaned not being able to form words.

“Yeah my naughty boy take my cock” he moaned in your ear causing you to get even harder as you got up and began to jump up and down on his manhood as he got a hold of your arms pushing you back down as he got your waist and begone to go full blast into your hole.

“OH-FUCK-K-K” you screamed by the pleasurable abuse you where endorsing. “YEAH TAKE MY FUCKING BIG DICK MY NAUGHTY BOY” he yelled as all that could be heard was the sound of his cock taming into you skin slapping skin.

“OH FUCK I’m gonna cumm-mm” you yelled as you cummed all over both your chest. “Oh fuck me to my boy take my fucking milk” he yelled erupting inside your hole as as you both laid there naked in between each other as you both had sexy 5 more times that night and again on Christmas morning.

#gay smut #gay #lucerothings1 #John karsinski #John karsinski x male reader #christmas

[abbyromanoff]

request as ig a part 2 for this

reader inviting nat over so they can scissor in front of wanda and then they let wanda fuck them and then cum all over them😩

A guest

Pairings: Wanda maximoff x reader x Natasha Romanoff

Word count: 1379

Warnings: mommy kink, threesome, Wanda had a dick, scissoring, voyerisum, mentions of pegging, blowjobs, really bad writing tbh, think that’s all

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“So, what’s a fantasy of yours?” It was a random question, she wondered if she had heard you right. You two were laying naked in bed, 11:43 PM marked the clock resting on the nightstand.

“You mean like, sexually?” The way she said it like it was a bad word made you laugh, she was so cute. You nodded, resting your head on your hand and leaning down to get your face closer to her own.

“Yes, baby, what’s a sexual fantasy of yours?” She groaned, hiding her face in her pillow before she could even respond. You chuckled at her embarrassed state and tried convincing her to face you, now genuinely curious at what it might be.

“How about this, I tell you one of mine and you tell me one of yours.” She agreed and you prepared yourself for her reaction.

“Alright, ever heard of free use?” She listened intently as you described one of your dreams, using her whenever you pleased. She was blushing throughout the whole conversation, sex was never easy for her to talk about. She would always become a stuttering mess, you found it adorable.

“Okay, okay! Now, tell me one of yours.” She suddenly grew nervous once more, scared you would find her weird. You reassured her gently and she sighed before speaking up quietly.

“Well, I guess I’ve always liked the thought of having a threesome.” She expected you to laugh in her face or something, but you didn’t. You nodded along and paid attention to everything she said.

“Uhm, I guess I’ve always liked watching it on porn. It’s pretty hot.” She wished she could crawl into a hole and die, anything to avoid this moment.

“No need to be embarrassed, we all like different things.” She went into detail like you asked, explaining her fantasy in detail as you made a plan in your head. You wanted to give her what she asked for, and so you did.

The next day you invited your friend, Nat, out for dinner, only telling her you had something to discuss. You sat in the chair, seeing the woman out of the corner of your eye and calling her over. You stood up to give her a small hug, thanking her for coming as she sat across from you.

“So, what’s up?” Before you could say anything, your waitress came over, putting down your orders and assuring you they’ll be done as soon as possible.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You chuckled and looked down nervously, feeling hands grasp your own. You moved your head back up as your knee bounced lightly under the table. You were hoping she’d say yes, it would be unbelievably awkward if she didn’t.

Two days later and it was a Friday night, Nat and you sat on your living room couch while you waited for your girlfriend to arrive home from work. Your shirt had already been removed along with her jacket, her mouth placed on yours as you two desperately made out. Her hands roamed your body and she smirked against you when hearing Wanda call out your name.

“Babe! I’m hom- oh.” You looked in her direction, Nat’s lips moving to your chest as your bra was discarded. You signaled her to come forward, her mouth still wide open in shock. At first, she thought she had walked in on you cheating. But that night plagued her mind. You wouldn’t be telling her to join you if you were in fact cheating. So, she did what you asked and sat next to you, putting her suit coat on top of her lap to hide her growing bulge.

You straddled Nat’s thigh and thrusted against her, her hands going to rest on your hips. Wanda gulped and palmed herself, hiding the small moan that tried to escape her. Nat leaned back, smirking at your girlfriend before speaking,

“What is it, Wanda? You upset because I fuck your little girlfriend better than you do?” She whimpered, her hand under her pants as she stroked herself. You stared into her eyes, watching as she lowered her gaze to Nat’s leg which was occupied by your rocking.

“You like that, baby? You like watching me get fucked by my friend?” She nodded, a small feeling of jealousy filling her body when she saw Nat sucking on your tits. She wanted to be the one doing that, the one causing you pleasure.

Your pants were thrown off in a haze, standing up only to sit back down on her lap in an instant. You both let out a small groan as your bare cunts made contact with one another. Wanda stood up, trailing closer to the scene as she stood next to you.

“Mommy?” Her clothes soon joined the small pile on the ground as she stood nervously with her hands behind her back, Nat gave her a calming smile. Your mouth made its way to her throbbing length covered in pre-cum. You moaned around her and felt fingertips resting on your chin, being pulled off of her to kiss your friend. Wanda’s juices exploded on Nat’s taste buds, she leaned back just to let out a loud moan.

“You taste so good, Wands.” Her cheeks turned a rosy red while you and the woman below you shared a look. Your hips started a slow rhythm, your wet cunt slipping against hers. Your mouth placed itself back onto Wanda, kissing around her cock before taking her in your mouth. Nat’s hands found their way to your tits once more, pinching and teasing the buds.

Wanda couldn’t help the noises that left her, the heat of your mouth getting to her. Her head was thrown back as your pace caused you to go up and down on her length, Nat watched with a darkened gaze. Wanda shyly moved her hands to your hair and pulled gently, causing a groan to escape from deep within you.

“Fuck Y/N! You feel so good!” Nat moaned out loudly, slapping your ass repeatedly. Red marks lined your bottom, her harsh force causing you to go faster. Wanda has never seen this side of you, so…submissive? You were always the one in charge of her, but here you were, letting your friend whore you out.

“That’s it, Y/N, suck her dick. Doing so good for me.” She muttered out under her breath, feeling her coil tightening.

“M-mommy, I need to-” Before she could finish, warm liquid filled your mouth, some dribbling down your face to your neck. Nat took a long lick up your exposed chest, humming at the taste.

“Fuck! Y/N, cum with me, baby. Fucking cum!” Her hands traveled back to your hips, guiding you to speed up your already fast pace. Squelching noises were heard throughout the room. Wanda watched you two intently, her breath still uneven.

“I’m cumming, Natty! Fuck, cum on my pussy, please!” And she did, you both did. Your words triggered her orgasm as you squirted onto her cunt. Wanda was shocked, a pang of jealousy hitting her once more knowing that Nat was the first to make you finish that hard.

“Shit! Such a good little girl for us, you did so well.” You blushed at the praises before turning your attention back to Wanda, beckoning her to join you two. She sat down, you and Nat cornering her on each side. It was like you read Wanda’s mind as you straddled her lap, teasing the head of her length over your entrance. Suddenly, you pulled her down with you, making her tower over you as if she was in charge. Her focus was entirely on you now, not noticing Nat strapping something on her hips. As she slowly entered you, fluttering her eyes shut at the feeling of your walls clamping around you, she felt something prodding at her backside. When she tried to look behind her, you pulled her face towards your own to give her a sloppy kiss.

“Now, Wanda, Y/N here told me you’ve never been pegged?” She nodded slowly, fear filling her body. You leaned back to look into her green eyes, biting your lip as you chuckled softly.

“Surprise, baby.”

#anon ask #natasha x reader #natasha x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha smut #wanda maximoff #wanda x fem!reader #mommy wanda #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda multiverse of madness #wanda x y/n #wanda fanfic #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader smut #natasha x you #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda smut #wanda x you #wanda imagine #wanda x nat x reader

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter five

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

The dim light in the cozy living room flickered as Y/N paced nervously. She turned to the figure on the couch, who had been quietly listening to her unravel her thoughts. "I'm sorry for coming so late, but I was just so confused. I didn't know what to do." 

The figure shifted, and a voice that was both comforting and familiar responded, "No need to apologize. Take a seat and tell me what's on your mind." 

Y/N sank into a nearby chair, her eyes searching for answers in the patterns of the rug. "It was going really well. He’s so nice, I really liked him. But then he started talking about taking me to Monaco and I panicked, I don’t even know why I..” She trailed off, unsure about how to even put into words what she was feeling. She had just ran away from a date with an incredible guy, a date that was actually going really well, and was now sat in her friend's living room at almost 11 o'clock at night. The man in front of her was patient, he let her into his home and was listening to every word she said, and that just made her feel so much worse.  

“I don’t know what to do Reece, I just ran away, he’s going to think I’m so weird. And you, we’ve only been real friends for five minutes and I’ve just turned up at your house and unloaded all of my crap onto you. Fucking hell, I’m such a mess.” 

Reece's gaze remained steady as Y/N bared her thoughts, her vulnerability evident in the dimly lit room. He listened attentively, offering a soft smile as she apologized once again. 

"Y/N, you don't have to apologize for coming here. That's what friends are for," Reece reassured her, his tone warm and understanding. "You're not a mess, and you're certainly not burdening me. I'm here for you, okay? I get why you wouldn’t want to talk to Mason about this too.”

She nodded, appreciating his kindness. "Thanks, Reece. I just don't want to mess things up. He's a great guy, and I ran away like an idiot." 

He smiled, his eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Look, I’m by no means an expert in this subject but from a guys perspective, maybe you should just tell him how you feel. Let him know that you like him but that you need things to go slowly. Honesty is key in these situations, and if he's as great as you say, he'll appreciate your openness." 

Y/N considered Reece's advice, a sense of clarity emerging. "You're right. I should talk to him. Thank you, Reece. I don't know what I would've done without you tonight." 

Reece chuckled softly, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "That's what friends are for, Y/N. Anytime you need someone to talk to, I'm here." 

Y/N expressed her thanks once again, her weariness evident in her grateful smile. "Thank you, Reece. I should get going." 

As she began gathering her belongings and preparing to leave, Reece, noticing the late hour and the weariness in her eyes, interjected gently. "Wait, Y/N. It's pretty late, and it's dark out. I wouldn't feel right letting you walk home alone now. Why don't you just crash here for the night? I've got a spare bedroom, and you can head out in the morning." 

Y/N's initial hesitance was palpable, her brows furrowing with concern. "Reece, I really don't want to impose on you any more than I already have." 

Reece shook his head, a warm and reassuring smile on his face. "Y/N, it's not an imposition. I'd prefer you stay here. I wouldn't feel comfortable letting you walk home alone at this hour." 

A brief moment of contemplation passed before Y/N nodded, gratitude softening her features. "Okay, thank you, Reece. I appreciate it." 

He guided her to the spare bedroom, its ambiance a mix of coziness and simplicity. He assured her to make herself at home, offering, "I've got training early tomorrow, so help yourself to anything you need in the morning. Sleep well." 

Y/N expressed her thanks once more, and as she stepped into the spare bedroom, the soft glow of a bedside lamp revealed a neatly arranged space. The comfortable bed beckoned her, and, feeling the weight of the night's emotional rollercoaster, Y/N surrendered to its embrace. 

She slipped under the covers, the softness of the pillows providing a welcomed comfort. The room held a serenity that seemed to embrace her, and as she closed her eyes, the gentle hum of Reece's home became a soothing lullaby. Sleep claimed her swiftly, offering a respite from the stress and confusion that had filled her evening. 

The morning light filtered through the curtains, gently waking Y/N as she stirred in the unfamiliar room. A soft murmur of voices reached her ears, and curiosity led her downstairs. As she descended, the voices became clearer, and she recognized Reece's calm tones along with another voice that sent a ripple of surprise through her. 

In the kitchen, Mason and Reece stood engaged in conversation, both sipping on protein shakes. Their conversation ceased as Y/N entered, her presence causing a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Mason's eyes widened in shock as he registered her appearance, and Y/N could almost see the gears turning in his mind. 

"Hey," she greeted shyly, attempting to break the tension. 

Mason, still processing the unexpected scene before him, remained silent. His attempt at maintaining composure was evident, but a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. 

Reece, sensing the need to address the unspoken tension, interjected, "Morning, Y/N. We’re just getting a drink before we head to training" 

Mason's gaze shifted between Y/N and Reece, a myriad of thoughts swirling in his mind.  

“You-” Mason tried to speak but his voice got caught. “You stayed here last night?” He questioned. It was plain to see that he was freaking out but trying his hardest to remain nonchalant. 

Y/N, catching on to the unspoken assumptions, decided to clarify before things took a turn for the worse. 

"Oh, yeah I came round to chat last night, and then when it got late Reece offered up his spare room so I didn’t have to walk home in the dark," she explained, hoping to dispel any lingering doubts. 

Reece nodded in agreement, offering a reassuring smile. "Exactly. Just a friend helping a friend out." 

The tension in the room began to ease as the truth settled. Mason, still processing the information, managed a nod. "Right, got it." 

Reece, ever attuned to the lingering awkwardness, took the initiative to break the silence. "Well, I think we should probably head to training. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you need, Y/N. There's a spare key by the door; just use that and drop it back through the letterbox when you leave." 

Y/N nodded appreciatively, "Thanks, Reece. I appreciate it." 

As Reece and Mason made their way toward the door, the air still carried a hint of unease. Mason, however, seemed to have regained some composure and, looking at Y/N, asked, "Are we still having our movie night tonight?" 

Y/N smiled, relieved that the tension was slowly dissipating. "Absolutely. Come around at 7, and we'll get started." 

With that agreement, Reece and Mason headed out the door. As it closed behind them, Y/N caught a snippet of Mason's questioning tone directed at Reece, but the words were muffled by the closing door. She sighed, hoping that the newfound understanding she and Mason had reached would withstand this unexpected morning twist. 

  As the evening approached, Y/N found herself at home, thoughts swirling in her mind like a turbulent storm. She debated whether or not to reach out to Max, her anxiety growing with each passing moment. Eventually, fueled by a desire for clarity, she decided to make the call. 

Her fingers hesitated over the keys as she dialed Max's number. The phone rang, and with each passing second, her heartbeat quickened. Then, a familiar voice on the other end said, "Hello?" 

"Hi, Max," she greeted, her voice a mix of nerves and sincerity. 

Max responded warmly, "Hey Y/N, how are you?" 

Y/N took a deep breath before launching into an explanation. "I’m good thanks, just wanted to talk about yesterday, if this isn’t a bad time?" 

Max assured her, "Not at all. Go ahead." 

So, Y/N began to share her feelings, the whirlwind of emotions that led her to retreat so abruptly. Max listened attentively, responding with understanding and empathy. "I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he apologized sincerely. 

"No, no, Max. You don't need to apologize," Y/N reassured him. "I had a lovely time, honestly. I just got a bit overwhelmed, and my instincts took over. I'd like to see you again if you're not too weirded out by my disappearing act." 

Max chuckled gently. "Not weirded out at all. I was just worried I'd done something to upset you." 

Y/N smiled, grateful for his understanding. "You didn't, at all. 

“Thats good, I meant every word I said though Y/N, I do really like you, and if taking things slow is what makes you comfortable, then I'm all for it. I just want to see you again." 

Her heart warmed at his sincerity. "Thank you, Max. I appreciate that." 

Glancing at the clock, she realized Mason would be arriving soon. "I need to get going but we should plan something soon, okay?” 

"Absolutely," Max agreed. "Let me know when you're free, and we'll figure something out." 

Mason's knock on the door echoed through the room shortly after Y/N’s call to Max had ended, she welcomed him in, and they quickly settled into their familiar routine, though there was a noticeable shift. Instead of the usual cozy closeness on a single sofa, they each took their own, creating a subtle but tangible distance. 

Somethings however, never change; because the first thing they did was begin to argue about who gets to choose the first film. Y/N was advocating for her favourite film of all time, 10 things I hate about you, whereas Mason was advocating for Fight Club. Although it only took Y/N pouting at him with puppy dog eyes on full display for Mason to quicky relent and agree to whatever she wanted. He couldn’t help but to laugh to himself at just how easily Y/N could make him do whatever she wanted. 

As the opening scenes of the movie flickered across the screen, Mason couldn't help but steal glances at Y/N across from him. The room was dimly lit by the glow of the television, and he couldn't help but be captivated by the way Y/N visibly lit up with excitement when the familiar scenes unfolded. 

He found himself watching her more than the movie itself, contemplating how effortlessly beautiful she looked in that moment. The way her eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm as she absorbed every detail of the film, the soft movements of her lips as she quietly mouthed along to the well-known lines, and the sweet sound of her little giggles that escaped when a particularly humorous scene played out. 

In that moment, Mason realized the beauty he had overlooked before. It wasn't just about her physical features, although he found himself drawn to the soft curves of her face and the glint in her eyes. It was the genuine joy she radiated, the infectious energy that made her all the more enchanting. Yet, as he marvelled at these revelations, an inexplicable discomfort settled in the pit of Mason's stomach. It was a perplexing sensation, an unsettling awareness that something had shifted, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what. 

Caught in his own thoughts, Mason initially didn't register Y/N's attempts to engage in conversation. It took her repeating herself for him to snap back to the present. She asked about his training with Reece, and Mason, readjusting to the conversation, he replied, "It was alright, a bit boring." 

Casually, he segued into another question, the tone of his voice crafted to sound nonchalant. "By the way, since when were you so close with Reece anyway?" The query lingered in the air, carefully casual yet edged with an underlying curiosity 

Y/N shared with Mason that when he wasn't speaking to her, Reece had been incredibly supportive, and they naturally grew closer during that time. She braced herself for any potential discomfort on Mason's part, anticipating that he might be uneasy about her forming a bond with one of his friends and teammates. However, Mason's response surprised her 

"That's good. I'm glad you had someone when I was being a dick," he stated, a touch of sincerity in his voice. "I am really sorry for that again, by the way." 

Y/N reassured him, "You don't need to keep saying sorry, Mason, but thank you." 

As the conversation continued, Mason hesitated for a moment before asking, "How did you end up at Reece's house anyway, if you were seeing Max?" There was a subtle flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, as if he was unsure whether bringing up Max was the right move. And when he caught sight of Y/N shifting uncomfortably, he realized it may have been better if he avoided the subject altogether.  

“Oh, well umm, I just panicked a bit and needed someone to talk to talk it though with.” she spoke as concern flickered in Mason's eyes, and he asked, "What made you panic?" 

She sighed, "Well, he said he wanted to take me to Monaco." 

Mason slightly raised his eyebrows, contemplating her words. "Is that a bad thing?" he asked. 

Y/N clarified, "I don’t know, it just felt like everything was moving too fast. It was a bit overwhelming." 

“I get that, how did it go other than that though, think you’ll see him again?” he asked her, trying his best to remain as casual as possible.  

Y/N's demeanor carried a vague discomfort as she began to answer his question. Her eyes shifted uneasily, and she fidgeted with a loose thread on the edge of the sofa. 

“Uh yeah, it was really nice. He took me to the nicest restaurant I have ever seen in my life, then we went to this coffee shop he likes and we got a hot chocolate, I’m not sure when but we’re definitely going to do something again soon.” 

Mason just nodded, trying desperately to make a a concerted effort to be a good friend, despite the evident unease he felt about hearing the details of her date. His expression betrayed a subtle struggle, trying to maintain a supportive facade while grappling with his own emotions beneath the surface. 

As they turned their attention back to the TV, Y/N gradually eased into the familiar comfort of her favorite film. The initial unease began to subside, replaced by the warmth that usually accompanied movie nights with Mason. They finished watching her movie and then started the one that Mason had asked for.  

As the intense scenes of Fight Club unfolded on the screen, Mason couldn't shake the desire to be closer to Y/N, like they used to be. He missed the casual intimacy they once shared during movie nights, where they would end up cuddling on the sofa, wrapped up in each other's company. However, he recognized that those moments were no longer a given. 

He silently wished they could return to the easy closeness they had before everything became complicated. Yet, Mason understood that it wasn't fair to impose their old habits on Y/N. So, he stayed in his corner of the sofa, watching the movie, trying to pretend that he didn’t want to go over and hold his best friend.  

Not 20 minutes into the movie, Mason noticed the soft and rhythmic sounds of gentle snores coming from where Y/N lay on the sofa. He couldn't help but smile; it was such a typical Y/N thing to do, to fall asleep during a movie. Deciding not to disturb her peaceful slumber, Mason quietly approached and saw that she had dozed off. 

Softly chuckling, he carefully lifted Y/N into his arms, cradling her with the same tenderness he'd always shown. In the quiet of her bedroom, he gently placed her on the bed, arranging the covers around her. It was an instinct to climb in beside her, as they'd done countless times during movie nights at her place due to her not having a spare bedroom.  

However, Mason abruptly halted, the reality settling in that those intimate moments were no longer appropriate. A wistful look crossed his face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head and whispered, "Goodnight, Y/N," before quietly leaving her room to head home.  

Tag list-

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[feelbokkie]

[11:50 AM]

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: fluff drabble, the slightest angst

pov: 2nd person

description: telling chan to slow down (based on that random stress dream I had a after 5 Star dropped)

pairing: bf!Chan x reader

warnings: swearing

word count: 464

screenshot count: n/a

©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

When your fully asleep body rolled over, the shock from the unexpectedly cold sheets woke you up. Unsure if you were still asleep and dreaming, your hand spread out over the spot to be sure it is actually empty. You quietly groan as you turn over to grab your phone, the light burning your eyes and forcing you to squint as you check the time.

4:42 am

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you mumble, setting your phone back down and slowly get up. You grab a throw blanket from the foot of your bed and walk out of your bedroom.

When you get to the living room, you find Chan hunched over his laptop with his head in his hands at the little desk you had in the corner of the living room. The one you put in to encourage him to come over to your place to work so you could ensure that he would get some decent nights of sleep and eat real food.

"Channie," you croak, your throat still full of sleep, "what are you doing?"

"Sorry, did I wake you?" He asks, turning his head to you. He often worked without headphones when he was at your apartment in case you needed him.

"You're empty spot on the bed did. What are you doing out here? It's nearly 5 am." You rub your eyes and stare at Chan.

"I working on some songs for the next comeback." He says, turning his head back to his computer, music quietly playing from it.

"You just realized 5 Star and you're currently promoting it. What do you mean next come back?"

"Yeah I know, but we have our next one coming out before the end of the year." He says simply like it explains everything in the world. You blink a few times before truly processing what he said. You know that the company isn't pushing them to release that much music that quickly. You've even heard them tell him to take a break a few times to no avail. But this is getting out of hand.

You walk over to Chan and cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look away from his computer.

“Christopher, you need to slow the fuck down.” You say gently.

"I can't. There's just so much to do and so little time."

"The music can wait a little bit. Your fans will definitely wait. Hell, they want you to slow down too. You can't keep working yourself like this. You're going to crash and burn eventually."

"But--" You press your lips against his to shut him up.

"No 'buts.' Now, save what you're working on and come back to bed. You have the day off today and you're taking it off damnit."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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