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cheonstapes · 5 months

Note

HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU

But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.

Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following

-🐈

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (ﾟωﾟ)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.miguel o’hara x reader.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

SMUT

you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷

cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!

2k+ words

@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!

you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.

who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.

every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.

but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.

walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.

he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“

“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.

miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.

he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.

“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.

sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.

of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.

the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.

he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.

“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.

he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.

“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.

“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.

he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.

“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.

“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.

“i…i love you too, migs.”

you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.

“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.

the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.

“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”

miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-smack myass like a drum

#cheonstapes #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #cheonstapes films!🪷#nerd miguel smut #nerd miguel #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara smut

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beloved-nyx · 19 days

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐁” 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 !

ᝰ.ᐟ Why does it feel like someone’s following your every move?

જ⁀➴ STARRING: 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

જ⁀➴ CONTENT: stalking, suggestive, reader is in college, reader is insecure, nothing to bad ??, not proofread (we die like kings), soft yandere (?), nothing graphic, mentions of jealousy and clinginess

જ⁀➴ FORMAT: 1.3k words, full fic

જ⁀➴ AUTHORS NOTE: This is my third time writing yandere ahhh! Anyway, it's been so long since I wrote something!! Um enjoy <33 also damn...reader really going through it.

“There,” You mutter under your breath. “Finished.”

You balance precariously on a wobbly stool, hands parting from a sleek, black camera. A security camera, to be precise.

You would have never thought of putting a camera in your apartment, not because you were naively dumb, but because you had thought you lived in the safer part of the city. Friendly neighbors always alerted you when suspicious people even lingered next to your doorstep, but also because you were broke. Broke, broke, broke.

Your rent was taking up more of your money than your groceries were. It had taken weeks of splurging on food to even be able to afford a security camera, much to your disdain. You were living on leftovers, and you were getting sick of week-old Chinese takeout.

Stepping off the stool, you admire your handiwork, cringing at how gaudy it looked in your minimalistic (or in much harsher words, bare) apartment room.

Your phone dings softly, and as you pick it up, you grin at the name displayed on your notifications. Caelan.

Caelan is your crush. Your cheeks seem to grow hotter at even admitting it in your thoughts. You felt like some highschool kid, even using the word “crush.” But Caelan did that to you, you guess. Make you feel childish and absolutely hopeless, and sometimes you wish he knew that. But then again, if he did, you would probably self-destruct on the spot. You were fine with admiring Caelan from afar.

Heard what happened U ok?

Ahh. That.

The very reason you put that gaudy camera in your apartment in your first place.

It had been a month ago, when you first saw the signs of someone breaking into your house. You were doing laundry, a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday night while your friends were getting drunk and partying at a local club. Some of your underwear was missing, but you had chalked it up to your own clumsiness.

But then you saw the note, and everything changed. Written sloppily, penmanship atrocious. You had thought that the person was just bad at writing-but in hindsight, he must have used his less dominant hand to write it. Biting your cheek, you read it, and you wished you hadn’t.

It was the most perverse, disgusting thing you had ever read. That night, you couldn’t even sleep, scared that the unknown intruder-stalker would come.

The next day, the stalker sent you pictures of you doing the most mundane things. Sleeping, eating, studying, doing laundry, and even changing.

You immediately called the police on the next day, when a bouquet of roses showed up on your doorstep. The police had said, “We’ll look into it.”

They never did.

It led you to ask for help from a friend, and you instantly regretted it. Because the next day, the whole campus learned of your supposed stalker. And even though their sympathetic, “You okay?” made you feel a little bit more safer, a little more secure in your tiny world, it still made you embarrassed, scared too.

You type in a quick, I'm fine! And then wonder if you should put an emoji after that. After spending an embarrassingly long minute of deciding if you should, you just send it with no emoji.

That’s good. If you need anything just call me.

…

A few days pass by, and still no stalker appears on the camera footage. At first, you’re elated. But then another few days pass, and you feel silly. Maybe there was no stalker, maybe you were being overdramatic-but even then, those pictures? The note? You shiver. You hear a knock on the door, and turn to the noise, a small hum escaping your lips.

Must be the delivery man. You had ordered some new textbooks for college. You walk towards the door, and twist the knob.

Caelan smiles, pale fingers holding a bouquet of roses. He wears a black turtleneck, gray pants and a black dress coat. You, on the other hand, were wearing your pajamas.

If you could melt in a puddle, you would have. You wished you were buried in a pit. You wanted to be flung into space. Your cheeks were burning hot. You must look like a mess. Is it too late to be flung into space?

“C-Caelan. What brings you…uh, here?” You cringe at your words.

“For you, of course.” He laughs, taking a rose from the bouquet and putting it behind your ear. “I just wanted to check up on you. I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything, like your beauty sleep,” He muses, eyes wandering towards your pajamas.

You never wanted to turn into a puddle so badly.

“Hah-no, I just woke up!” You lie, ignoring the way he cocks his head to the side skeptically. Ignoring the fact that it's three p.m.

“You should’ve called…I would’ve,” You gesture towards your clothes, “y’know, prepared.”

“Oh shit!” His eyebrows furrow, a hand yanking at a loose black strand of hair that escaped his braid. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried–”

“No, no it’s fine!” You hate the way you sound-so, so desperate. “Um, do you want to come inside? I’ll go change and then we can talk.”

You lead him inside, ignoring the fact of how oddly happy he is to be inside your home.

…

After Caelan and you became official, he started to change. Slowly, like how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly.

He became more clingy, and at first you thought it cute. You loved the way he doted on you, liked how he curled up into you in the mornings when he stayed at your home (more often than not) and begged you to stay in bed for just a few minutes.

But he also became more jealous. Whenever you were next to someone, he always hovered close by, a suffocating presence that almost drowned you. Always insisted on going wherever you went.

You sit on the couch, nestled closely next to Caelan. He hums softly, hands nestled under your shirt as you watch some shitty rom-com. A masterpiece. You called it. Caelan had raised a brow at that, but didn’t say anything except for a snort. You had elbowed him in the stomach after he jokingly (?) insulted one of your favorite moments.

“‘m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, hands retracting from your body and making you feel cold. You whine at the sudden coldness, complaining about how you might die of hypothermia if he doesn’t come back soon. He scoffs at that, planting a kiss on your temple as he walks into the kitchen.

And leaves his phone.

You pick it up, grinning. Your intent was clear. Take a silly photo of yourself and make it his wallpaper. A perfect, opportune moment.

You open the camera app, successfully taking a horridly candid shot of yourself, before curiosity takes a hold of you. You open the photo app, scrolling through his photos. Most of it was just pictures of landscapes, before you stop.

A picture of you sleeping, drool leaking from your mouth.

You stop, before groaning. Did you really look like that when you slept? You scrolled some more, before stopping again. Blood running cold.

Was that a picture of you changing?

You frantically scroll through more photos, and with horror realize that most resemble the photos that your stalker took. You would never forget how disgusting you felt, at how you felt like your privacy had been breached.

You choke down a scream, eyes wide and hands shaking.

And then you feel something-a hand, on your shoulder. Tight enough to bruise, and tight enough to secure you in place.

“Oh.” A single word escapes Caelan’s lips, and you turn. You can see your own, frantic expression in his black eyes. Black eyes that you thought were beautiful.

“So you saw them, hmm.” It wasn’t stated as a question. No, it was a statement. A fact, indisputable. The most horrible part was that he wasn’t even trying to deny them.

“Well, isn’t this cute?”

©beloved-nyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

#❛❛𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.𝐎𝐅.𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋.𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄—ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹❞#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #Yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #Male yandere #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere x you #male yandere x y/n #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere male #soft yandere #yandere x gn reader

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socksracoon10 · 4 months

Note

Hi love here I come with my first spontaneous idea 🩷

Reader is the Commodore's sister but sick of the ways of society. When Jack saves Elisabeth, reader is the one who persuaded James not to kill Jack and also the one he happens to threat in order to escape. She’s somehow drawn to the Captain and later gives Will the keys to the cell to set him free. Jacks thoughts circle around her, too and they reunite when she swings last minute from the Dauntless over to the Interceptor to join the pirates making way❣️

Curious of The Seas

A/N: Literally fell in love with your ask oh my god, couldn't stop thinking about it before I began writing!! Thank you so much for this request! Pairings: Jack Sparrow x F!Reader, Will Turner x F!Reader (Platonic), James Norrington x F!Reader (siblings)

"Don't slouch, stand straight," Commodore Norrington hissed at you. You glared at your brother, curving your lips downward. You hated how strict and loyal he was to the British Crown and how he enforced his rules onto you, despite being his "precious baby sister."

Your brother didn't hate you, but he sure did a good job of making you hate him. He was pacing his quarters back and forth, rehearsing what he would say to Miss Elizabeth Swann upon meeting her. You rolled your eyes at the pathetic scene, realizing that if your brother were to marry Miss Swann you were next on the list for the most eligible bachelorette in Port Royal. Your body cringed at the thought and you wriggled your back to shake off the eerie feeling crawling down your spine and focused on trying to ease your brother at the moment.

"James, there is no point in stressing over something as simple as this. Tell her you are in love with-" You began but frowned when he interjected,

"Love? Don't be ridiculous!"

"So, you're not in love with her?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, I very much am in love with her. But it is not proper for a man such as myself to say trivial things to the daughter of the Governor!" Your brother reasoned and you sighed in an exasperated tone, shifting your gaze out the window.

Elizabeth had stared at you with a quizzical look on her face when your brother and you had first approached her. You both shared the same expression of disdain for the situation. It was very clear to see that she was indifferent to your brother and surely was the very last man that she had any interest for. You, on the other hand, dearly loved your brother and wanted to save him from any heartache that she would cause him. You chewed your lip nervously, watching them exchange a few words of greetings before walking away. The commodore glanced over his shoulder, mouthing a few warnings to reign your behavior in for the biggest moment of his life before stalking away.

Huffing in annoyance, you picked the ends of your dress up and marched past the Governor who was just about to start a conversation with you. He awkwardly shut his mouth and watched you walk away to stand on the other corner of the pillar where your brother and Elizabeth stood. He leaned backward to get a good look at you, sending you another glare before returning his full attention to the woman in front of him with a nervous smile. You sighed, gazing out to the sea. Your brother had taken you once beyond Port Royal when you were a little girl and he swore it was something he very much regretted; all you could ever do since then was talk about sailing the seas. You desired to travel across the world, collect artifacts, and live a free life. Your brother scoffed at your desires, stating that he would rather die than see his little sister galloping around like a pirate of all creatures.

As you gazed out into the horizons with a look of yearning, you heard the loudest splash from below. Peering over the edges of the wall, you frowned at the ripples that seemed to bloom near the rocks and you instantly pulled back from your position and walked around to notice your brother screaming Elizabeth's name.

"What did you do?" You exclaimed, resting a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away from your grasp, beginning to take his coat off but you grabbed hold of him,

"The rocks, James! She's lucky that she didn't hit them on her way down! Come, we can reach her at the docks!" You urged him, yanking his arm. He seemed instilled with distraught, at a loss for words, "She must've jumped by your mere presence!"

Your brother sent you a nasty scowl and the playful smirk on your lips faded away instantaneously. You knew this was no joking matter; the poor woman could've died on her way down and she was to be betrothed to him anyway. As your brother scampered off with the rest of the guards, you found your feet rooted to the ground as you stared up at the sky. Something was amiss. The clouds darkened and circled about gravely, and the sea no longer held its silky blue blanket to comfort you. Before you could try and comprehend what must've occurred, you felt an urgent tug around your arms and you sharply turned to find yourself facing the Governor.

"Come now, my dear, you mustn't dawdle around when my daughter's life is in danger!" He exclaimed and you frowned at his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him. Even if you wanted to help Elizabeth, there was surely no way you could swim into the waters with this puffy dress around you. You followed him down to the docks, pushing past the British officers to find yourself facing Elizabeth coughing up heaps of water from her lungs and then... a pirate.

With all the rifles surrounding him, you nearly thought they were aimed at your brother who stood in the way. You could only make out half his face, oblivious to the ensuing conversation that your brother was currently engaged in. You peeked around the Commodore's shoulder, carefully eyeing the strange man in your presence when his eyes flickered over to you for a sharp second before returning to your brother. Your breath hitched at the moment, taking in his disheveled and wet appearance as your brother remained as the shield between the man and you.

"He's a pirate," Your brother growled, his jaw clenching as he barked orders for his arrest. He ignored your gaping stare as he continued, "Sparrow, I assume?"

"Jack Sparrow?" You interjected, your mouth practically on the floor as you stared at him. The corner of the pirate's lips curved into a small smirk,

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow, love," He smiled with a wink. You smiled back before your brother forcefully shoved you behind him once again. He made a mental note to have a discussion with you about your behavior as soon as you returned home. He took the pirate's belongings and derided him for his lack of proper weapons, but it bothered him so deeply that you were so enchanted by the man. It irked him to think that his sister would fall foolish to a PIRATE of all people. He forcefully grabbed onto Jack's arm and began dragging him off before you cut him off,

"James! James!" You cried out, and your brother halted in his tracks and sent you a menacing scowl.

"Not another word from you, (Y/N)." He hissed, and you scoffed before pulling your skirt up ever so slightly to march up to your brother,

"This man, pirate or not, has just saved your betrothed's life! I suggest you at least show some mercy upon him!"

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man's life of wickedness," Your brother corrected you as Jack was being handcuffed by a Redcoat.

"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Jack added, and you offered him a sympathetic look before turning to your brother with pleading eyes.

"Brother, please. I beg of you, consider an alternative for this man." You prodded him, as your eyes fell onto Elizabeth who smiled softly at your words.

"Please do so," Jack muttered, before dragging his bound hands around your neck. You gasped in response, tugging at the chains as your brother panicked.

"No one shoots!" The Commodore bellowed, holding his hands in the air, "Let go of my sister."

"Only if you return my belongings," Jack taunted with a haughty grin. He leaned closer to lowly utter into your ears, "You must be regretting your kindness, do you not?"

"I don't, but it seems that you'll regret it," You whispered, as you watched the guards hand in his belongings in a bundle. Jack nudged your back with his knee ever so lightly to grab hold of his things and you begrudgingly did so, before sharply turning around to face him.

"Now if you'll do me the pleasure... my, I don't think I know your name..." He said with a sly smirk. You frowned at him,

"It's Miss Norrington to you," You spat, placing his hat on. As you placed his sword, belt, and other personnel around him, you could feel his intense stare burning deep into you. If it was of lust or attraction, you did not know and at the moment did not necessarily care. Your mind was fixated on other things, and your brother was seething in rage as he watched Jack give him a look regarding your body against his that made him want to hurl. To think his sister was so close to a gruesome pirate! It was preposterous!

As you tied the last remaining string of his belt around him, you looked up at him with disgust. Not only was he a pirate, but this would be the talk of the town, and your brother's and your reputation would be spoiled. Your brother could easily regain his good fortune, but you were never as lucky. You hated the way the women would gossip and to think it was all spoiled over one man you decided to be too merciful with because your curiosity could not be controlled made you ready to commit arson.

"Is this how you repay me?" You hissed and the pirate smirked at your words,

"I saved your friend's life, and now you save me. Besides, you did after all wish for me to live. Now, suffer those consequences. When shall a beautiful lady such as yourself realize to never mess with a pirate?" He chuckled, before harshly turning you around with his gun aimed at your head. Your brother flinched at the sudden movement, making sure you were alright.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you will always remember this as the day you almost caught Jack Sparrow," The pirate's voice boomed from behind you and the very next second you found yourself thrust upon your brother and Elizabeth. As Jack Sparrow hurriedly began his escape, he did not fail to include a personal message from his heart, "Thank you very much, Miss Norrington. I shall not ever forget such kindness!"

And you weren't ready to forget him, either. It would be for another reason. As the night raged on with a surge of pirates infiltrating Port Royal, you felt a growing desire to do something about it. Your brother had joined the Governor for his safety and left you at home to be tended to by the maids. Upon realizing that the front door would burst open regardless of the circumstances, you quietly slipped out the window in your nightly attire and made your way to the blacksmith's quarters where you knew for a fact that your good friend Will Smith would be. Will and you had grown as siblings; he was there for you more than your brother had been. He had anticipated your arrival anyway but found himself in jeopardy when his ears gathered the news that Elizabeth Swann had been abducted by the pirates. He was pacing around when you arrived and he quickly latched onto your shoulders,

"They've taken Elizabeth! I tried my best but-" Will began but you silenced him, bringing a hand to his mouth.

"I know what you must be going through. But there is not enough time. I heard you helped imprison Jack Sparrow." You whispered and he nodded his head, eyes wide as he tried to make the best of the situation, "Come, I have the key with me, we can both interrogate him and seek his help." Your hand fell to his own and led him towards the streets.

"Wait a minute," Will stopped you, and with a glance over your shoulder you already knew what he was about to say. He was going to prevent you from going. "(Y/N), I know you've always wished to escape Port Royal, but I cannot bring harm to you once you step foot onto the waters."

"Will," You chastised him, "I am no longer a little girl. I am very capable of handling my own matters."

"You are inexperienced, that's all I can say." Will rebuked your claim and you gasped at his words, before furrowing your brows,

"So are you!"

"Ah, but I shall be bringing Sparrow with me to help find Elizabeth."

"Oh, don't be so dull! I can help Sparrow and you as well. Do not prevent me from doing so! If it is out of fear that a pirate may do something towards a woman of my status, I assure you that no such thing will occur! If he dares to even look at me, I shall see to it that his eyes are gouged out by his blade!" You reasoned and Will took a step backwards, his lips parting in shock at your words. You had the spirit of a pirate in you that was for sure, and that was exactly what he feared.

"I cannot let you join. Your brother is... already facing loss," He replied in an awkward tone, considering how much he cared about Elizabeth, "He would be devasted to find you gone as well. Just stay put for now. I'm sure there shall be something more exciting for you in Port Royal."

You muttered a few unladylike curses under your breath and reluctantly offered him the key to the jail cell, "At least tell Sparrow that I was... delighted by his presence."

Will raised a suspicious eyebrow at your remark, unsure of how to respond. He nodded his head and then left you alone, as you brought your hands over your arms as your mind wandered towards the sea once again.

To say that Jack Sparrow was surprised by Will's statement regarding you would be an understatement. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you so willingly offered him the key to his escape, considering how he had humiliated your brother and especially you in front of everyone at the docks earlier in the day. He chewed his lip, his eyes dilating at the thought of you. The way you stared at him in defiance, your temples rising and falling with the way you clenched your jaw. Of course, who could forget the sensation of your fingers pressed up against him as you fastened his belt? As much of the ladies' man that Jack was, there was something different about you. You weren't like Giselle or Scarlet, complaining about superficial things or just merely trying to get into his pants. He could tell there was this curious spirit fighting to break free when he first laid eyes on you. The way you cautiously peered over your brother's shoulder had made him... well, he certainly wouldn't say his heart skipped a beat. He wasn't a silly little boy. He was a man! A grown man, a pirate! CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, mind you. And yet here he was, trying to justify to himself that what he felt for you was nothing more than just infatuation that would surely pass on.

But it didn't. It never did. While of course, his thoughts about stealing The Interceptor were his priority, he just couldn't stand still without his mind fleeting over to the very image of you, dressed in that regal bright blue gown and your hair all curled and pinned to form the most exquisite portrait of a woman he'd ever seen in his life. He smirked to himself at the thought of you, wondering what you must be doing at Port Royal at the moment. What if your brother had you married off to someone else? What if you were to live the rest of your life as a boring wife to an equally boring officer? He shook his head, wriggling himself free from those imaginative concoctions. He was a pirate, damn it. He had better things to think about than just a woman he had seen days ago.

"You've got to be kidding me," Your brother grumbled as he pushed past you. You had boarded The Interceptor with him, not because you had wanted to - even though you took every chance out on the sea with gratefulness - but because your brother was so worried about the possibility of your abduction that he wished you were beside him at all times. Including those incredibly still moments of him gazing out into the sea. To him, he seemed to have an air of control, all the world's burdens upon his shoulder. This was his duty. When you gazed out into the sea, however, it was a plethora of possibilities. The unmarked territories you could claim, the desire for you to seek out treasure from all corners. You could be free. And no one would stop you. Save your brother, but that was something he'd always do anyway. Your attention focused on The Dauntless a couple hundred meters away as you noticed flocks of the British crew on small boats were paddling towards the ship you were in. Your brother gazed through his telescope and snarled at the sight, hesitantly passing the device for you to see as well. From afar, you saw Will Turner and... Jack Sparrow? The pirate? Both of them were flapping their arms around trying to make use of the mast. You guffawed at the sight, laughing at them. You turned to face your brother who quickly reminded you with his gaze about your behavior and you swallowed the amusement away as fast as you could.

The two ships - The Dauntless and The Interceptor - were locked horns now and your brother ordered you to come with him to board The Dauntless and put an end to Sparrow's madness. You reluctantly agreed, your eyes scanning around to see any sight of the familiar pirate you had so longed to see.

"Search every cabin, every hull," Your brother barked, before turning back to you, "And you stay close to me. Do not go wandering about like a fool like you always do."

You glowered at him, electing not to anger him any further as you stood on the deck. You watched him disappear among the surge of officers onto The Dauntless. You sighed, pacing back and forth when you noticed two men swing over to The Interceptor. It was Will and Jack.

Eyes widening in surprise, you tried to call attention to the situation but your cries fell on deaf ears. You stomped your foot and watched Jack cut off the rope ties, one by one. His gaze was fixed downwards until he looked up momentarily, and there you stood. He stood there for a few more seconds, completely surprised by your presence. Deep down, as much as he hated to admit it, he feared that he would never see you again.

"What are you doing? Cut the rope!" Will cried out in confusion before he followed Jack's eyes to you. Jack looked upwards at the rope still connecting the two boats before turning back to you,

"Jump, Miss Norrington!" He instructed, and you stepped forward, holding onto a long piece of rope. Upon hearing your name, your brother rushed out of the Captain's Quarters, pushing past his men.

"(Y/N)!" He yelled, his eyes daring you to make another move. Realizing that this was the only opportunity to acquire what you had spent so long yearning for; the deep blue seas, the adventure, and the whimsical treasures, you sent him one final glance before running off the deck of The Dauntless and swinging onto The Interceptor. With the final rope now gone, and the ship sailing forward at full speed your brother looked at you as if you were dead to him.

When The Dauntless was far behind and there seemed to be no danger at the present moment, you walked towards your friend Will and the pirate beside him. Will seemed elated that you were there, and he hugged you so warmly that you nearly forgot that he was not related to you by blood. Releasing you from his arms, he sheepishly stepped aside as Jack Sparrow stepped forward.

"Miss Norrington, it is a pleasure to have you on board with us. I almost feared you might not have the guts to swing over," He teased, his hand graciously wrapping around your own as he kissed your fingers with such gentleness that it surprised you. You cracked half a smile at him, narrowing your eyes, before responding,

"You may call me (Y/N), and please, I never turn down an opportunity for adventure."

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froggibus · 1 year

Text

The Mark of Greed - Mammon

Pairing: Mammon x reader

Genre: angst -> fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: mammon can’t help but notice that you refuse to talk about his pact mark, and he’s determined to find out why

CW: hurt/comfort, angst, violence (reader gets attacked by demons), mutual pining, self deprecating thoughts, arguing/yelling, angsty! Mammon, love confessions, misunderstandings

i definitely did not write all of this at 3am. nope. idk i had this image in my head of soft! Mammon tracing your pact mark and telling you he loves you so here it is lol. i got super carried away and ended up making this super long too oops

————

The best kept secret in the Devildom, aside from Satan’s pet cat, was your pact mark. Not just any pact mark—no, it was the shimmering gold one that marked Greed. Right from the day you got it, you knew you should keep it hidden.

Always wearing clothes to strategically cover it, lying, deflecting and giving different answers every time someone would ask. Mammon watched all this, and said nothing. Sure, it was a little funny, but it also made him wonder.

Did you hate him? Was the mark of greed as awful as he always thought it was? Was his touch so ugly and toxic that you didn’t want anyone to know about it?

Maybe his brothers were right. Maybe there was something wrong with him. You were so open about your pacts with his brothers, gladly showing them the swirling coloured patterns that marked your body. You showed them off unashamedly, proudly displaying the marks as part of yourself.

It made him jealous, really. You were his human. You were his first. His pact was your first—so why did you hate it so much? He always pegged envy as Leviathan’s emotion, but the more he watched, the more he realized his turmoil was enough to rival the otaku himself.

You first notice Mammon withdrawing after you show a demon in class your pact mark with Beel. An orange sigil just above your belly button that you displayed proudly with crop tops and bathing suits. You could feel Mammon’s eyes on you the whole time, watching you as you explained the beauty behind the mark.

“It’s not just cause he’s the Avatar of Gluttony,” you explain, fingers tracing the orange outline. “But it also relies on emotions. In this case, the comfort he brings me is like having a full stomach. It sits right at my core because he’s my support.”

You swear you see blue eyes roll to your left, but you shrug it off. He’s probably just upset because Lucifer confiscated Goldie again. Still, you can’t help but think he’s jealous of the way you’re talking about Beel.

When you walk home later that day, Mammon is short with you. He barely acknowledges you or responds to anything you say, instead he slumps his shoulders and shrugs you off.

“Mammon, is everything okay? You seem…upset,” you note.

“The Great Mammon? Upset?” He tsks, “maybe your time in the Devildom has made you dumber, y/n.”

“I was just checking on you…”

You don’t wait for him to say anything else and instead throw open the front door and stomp to your room in silence. If he wants to be a jerk, you’ll let him be a jerk.

You practically throw your backpack across the room and slump on your bed. One of your pact marks aches and the thought makes you cringe. Of course it’s that one.

Ever since you got it, you’ve tried so hard to keep it hidden. Not even telling Mammon himself where it is. I mean, if he knew, what would he even say? You could almost hear his voice in your head telling you that you’re delusional to think you could ever be with him, dismissing your feelings and breaking your heart.

You get up and sit in front of the mirror, pulling off your shirt so that you can examine your skin. There, sitting above your heart, is the golden mark of Greed. You trace it lightly. It’s always been your favorite, the colour and the design by far the prettiest. You just wish it wasn’t where it was.

When you first got the mark, when you felt it sear itself into your skin, you knew what it meant. It was a visual representation of the butterflies in your stomach and the clenching in your heart every time you saw the Avatar of Greed.

Still, you found yourself flipping through the pages of Satan’s personal collection. You honestly hoped it was just random, a weird coincidence or a mistake—but the books said otherwise. They confirmed your fear.

When the others started to make pacts with you, you worried the same thing would happen. That they would show up in the same place or worse. You can still remember the immense relief you felt when you made your pact with Levi and have the mark show up on your thigh.

Levi was so excited to ask about his mark and when you let him touch it? He almost exploded. That was the first time Mammon asked you about his mark, and it was the first time you lied to him.

You groan in frustration and pull your shirt back on, trying to blink away the image of his branding. A part of you always wanted to tell him, to show him and have him touch it. But the other part couldn’t get it out of your head that you’re just a burden to him. You’re his responsibility and that’s the only reason he hangs around you.

You only wish things could be simpler.

—

Mammon slams the door to his room and sinks down against it. He tugs on his white hair so hard it hurts, but the pain isn’t enough to wash away the frustration bubbling in his chest.

Why did he have to be so mean to you?

Maybe if he was nicer you wouldn’t hate him or his pact mark. Maybe if he was nicer to you he might actually have a chance of being with you.

The sound of his voice rings in his ears, echoing off his skull. He hates it. He hates how mean he was to you, and the guilt eats him up.

Finally, it becomes too much and he forces himself to his feet. He should apologize to you. Because Lucifer would kill him if he knew how mean he was being…not for any other reason.

You open the door to see him standing in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. “What’s up?”

“I—Lucifer would be mad at me if I didn’t apologize to you,” he says, eyes focused on his shoes. “‘N I don’t wanna be strung up tonight so I’m sorry human.”

“It’s fine. Just—why were you so upset earlier, anyways?”

He shrugs his shoulders, still avoiding eye contact with you. How can he tell you that he’s jealous and angry that you don’t want to show off your pact mark? It’ll make him sound like a little kid.

“Mammon, come on. It’s just me.”

He sighs, “not that I care but I don’t get why you hate my pact so much.”

You freeze, your blood like ice in your veins. All this time you’d been withdrawing from him, you knew he noticed but because he never said anything, it was easy to ignore. Not anymore.

“I-I don’t hate it.”

“Then why do you never show anyone?”

“It’s just,” you shrug, “in a weird spot. I don’t know—I don’t hate it. I just don’t want to show it off.”

“Because it’s ugly, right?”

“Mammon—“

“Why would anyone want to be marked by Greed?”

“Mammon—!”

“Imma dirty scumbag anyway. Making a pact with you was the most selfish thing I ever did. Tying you to me for life, why would you ever want that?”

“Mammon, Jesus. Just listen to me!”

The demon stops his self deprecating rant, staring at you expectantly. He doesn’t know what you’re about to say, but all he can hope is for you to tell him that’s it’s not true. That it’s not ugly, that you want to be tied to him.

Your words fail you. You interrupt his rant and suddenly your mouth goes dry under the gaze of his blue eyes and your words all fall away. Your heart beats a mile a minute, drawing more of your focus to the pact mark that connects the two of you.

You stare at each other for a minute, and then Mammon turns on his heel and storms out of the room.

It takes you a minute to process what just happened, and another minute for you to follow him. By the time you make it to the staircase, he’s already slamming the front door shut behind him.

Everything is moving so fast. The illusion that you were protecting yourself from Mammon hating you has shattered—replaced by the realization that you’ve been hurting him this whole time. You can’t think of anything except for how to make this right.

Without thinking about it, you follow him out of the door and into the streets of the Devildom. It’s dark out and you have to squint to see the familiar white hair receding into the distance. You pick up the pace, wanting to catch him before he disappears.

You’ve never been outside alone before. It’s too dangerous, they always said. But that’s the furthest thing from your mind right now. All you want is to make things with him better.

“Mammon!” You call, heading up the hill behind him.

When you get to the top, the demon is no longer in sight. You spin around to see if he doubled back to the house, only to realize it’s no longer in sight either. The horrible realization that you’re lost starts to set in and you find yourself reaching into your pocket for your DDD—only to remember you left it in your backpack.

There’s a hissing noise nearby and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how vulnerable you are here. Without thinking, you start to run back the way you think you came. You hear two pairs of footsteps behind you, they’re gaining on you. Whatever is chasing you, it’s going to catch you.

A clawed hand takes your back and hot pain erupts within you. You fall to your knees and scream, warm blood trickling down your back.

You try to get back up but you’re shaking so badly that your knees refuse to cooperate. There’s two demons behind you, only vaguely humanoid with glowing eyes and flickering tongues. They’re speaking, but not in any language you understand.

They circle around you, taking some sort of sick amusement in watching their prey cower. One of them lashes out at your chest, three claws slicing the front of your shirt and causing blood to pool down your chest and stomach.

You reach up to clutch the wounds, your fingertips brushing against the golden pact mark. I’ll never get to tell him how I feel, you realize.

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you murmur, tracing your pact mark one last time.

A jolt of energy rushes through you followed by intense golden light in front of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting until it dims to open them again. When they’re open, you see Mammon in demon form, standing between you and your attackers.

All it takes is a flick of his hand before they erupt into dust. You knew he was powerful, but seeing him in action only confirmed the fact.

“Mammon..?”

He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands frantic as they search you for injury. His fingertips fall on your open shirt and clawed chest. “You’re hurt…”

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you mumble.

“I know.” He says, “let’s just get you home, okay?”

He scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to him. You’re sure your blood is dripping all over him and wrecking his new shoes, but you’re too disoriented to care.

Mammon sets you down on the counter in the bathroom, “move your hand, alright? I gotta make sure you’re not gonna die.”

Without thinking about it, you move your blood coated hand off of the pact mark. Mammon slowly peels off your shredded shirt, his eyes going wide when he sees what your hand was covering.

Somewhat hidden by the blood and fabric yet unmistakable, is a golden mark. Not just any golden mark—his golden mark. His pact mark and its above your heart?

His hands shake as they brush the outline of it. “My—my pact mark is on your heart?”

You bite your lip and nod slowly, looking anywhere but at him.

Mammon is in complete disbelief. This whole time he thought his feelings were one sided, that you hated him and hated his pact even more. But to find out that it’s on your heart of all places—right as he almost lost you? He’s almost entirely overwhelmed by his feelings.

His hands shake the whole time he bandages and disinfects you, his mind only set on the branding above your chest. When he’s done fixing you up, he can’t stop staring at it.

“You got lucky that the Great Mammon was here to protect you today,” he tries to play it off.

“I-it was only cause I summoned you with the pact.”

The mention of the pact makes his head spin again. His mouth is suddenly dry and his hands sweaty.

“Mammon,” you mumble, still unable to look at him, “please say something.”

His voice is low. “Do you know what it means when a pact mark forms over your heart?”

You shake your head, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

He reaches out to trace the swirling lines of the mark, his touch featherlight. “It means I’ll always be there for you, y/n.”

His tone is serious, unlike anything you’ve heard from him before. You don’t dare move or interrupt him, wanting to hear what the demon has to say.

“It means that I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he mumbles. “That I’ll take care of you no matter what. It means that you own me. It means that I—“ he swallows hard, looking at the floor. “I love you, y/n. Now and forever.”

You flinch at his words. They’re all you wanted to hear and yet hearing them has awakened something inside of you.

Your eyes finally meet his. “You—you really mean it?”

“I love you,” he gently kisses the centre of his mark on your body. “I love you.”

“Mammon,” you say, “I love you.”

Mammon might burst at your words. He reaches up to cup your face, planting a needy kiss on your lips. His touch is desperate, needy, way overdue. You melt into him, his taste so familiar and comforting that you don’t need to think twice about it.

Mammon smiles against you. If you had asked him a week ago, he would say that his pact with you was the most selfish thing he’s ever done. Looking at you now, though, he sees it as a sigil of his love for you, and what could be more selfless than that?

#obey me x reader #obey me oneshot #obey me x you #obey me fic #mammon #mammon x you #mammon x reader #mammon fluff #mammon avatar of greed #mammon angst #obey me headcanons #obey me #house of lamentation #obey me devildom

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lanadelnegan · 9 months

Text

Tattoo

Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).

Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink

Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.

A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.

"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."

The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.

Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.

"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.

"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.

I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.

"Bye Mr. Smith."

"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.

"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"

I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.

I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.

What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.

He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.

His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.

He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.

He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.

He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.

He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.

"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"

I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.

"Look at me."

I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.

"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"

"Stop calling me kid." I snap.

He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."

My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.

"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."

He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.

"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.

He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.

Why would he?

Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.

Negan's POV: That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will. She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me. She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet. And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine. And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A. Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.

Back to Y/n's POV:

I cried on the way home that day.

While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.

While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.

My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..

"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?" "It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat." "Your senior year? This bat is that old?!" "Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin. "Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck." "Keep it." I look at him confused. "But... it's your-" "I want you to have it." He cuts me off. "Are - Are you sure?" He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?" "Well, I mean, I do but -" "Then stop being stubborn and take it."

Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.

After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.

"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."

"I think I want a tattoo."

"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.

"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."

The next day...

Lucille's

The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.

"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.

"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.

"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.

She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.

"This your first tattoo?"

"Yeah, kinda nervous."

She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."

I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.

"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.

I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.

After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.

"Breathe, babe. You got this."

After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.

"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.

I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.

"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.

I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.

He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.

The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?

He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.

Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.

"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."

"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."

"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.

"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."

"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.

He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.

"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."

He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.

"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.

"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.

I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.

He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.

The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.

"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.

My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.

He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.

If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.

"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.

He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."

Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.

"Why did you take art, y/n?"

"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."

He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"

I shrug. "Both."

His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."

He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.

He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.

"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.

Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.

"Do you like it?" I ask him.

He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.

I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.

He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.

"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"

"Yes.."

"Tell me what you want, baby."

"Your mouth."

He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.

He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.

"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."

His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.

He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."

I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.

He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.

"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."

"You.. imagined it?"

"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.

He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.

"Negan, I'm gonna.."

"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.

"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."

"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."

He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.

"Nega-"

"No, y/n."

My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."

"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."

I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"

"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."

"Then why don't you?!"

"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."

I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.

"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.

I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.

"Goddamn it, listen to me!"

I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.

"Y/n.. look.."

"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."

He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."

Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.

"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."

I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.

That's definitely going to leave a mark.

"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."

I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.

"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.

"Negan.." I breathe.

He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."

I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.

"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.

"But, Negan, we're-"

"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."

I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.

"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."

He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.

I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.

"Taste good, doll?"

I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."

He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.

The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.

"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, please. I need you."

He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.

He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."

"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."

He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.

"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.

I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.

His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.

"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."

His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.

I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.

"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"

I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.

"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.

He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.

"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."

I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.

"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.

I think I love this man.

He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.

"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."

"You care about all your students."

"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.

The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.

"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"

"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.

"Do you not care?"

"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.

"What are we doing in here?"

"Getting matching tattoos, of course."

I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"

He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.

"No, doll, you are."

Part 2 here

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morelikeravenbore · 2 months

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✨Sebastian Sallow spicy alphabet

These are my spicy headcanons for Sebastian when he's in a loving and committed relationship (aged up to 18+, obviously.) Based on how I imagine and write him in most of my spicy oneshots (ie a needy boi 🤭)

🍭 If you're looking for something more wholesome, I also wrote a Sebastian Sallow fluff alphabet.

🦋 A/N: all headcanons are valid, even if yours differ completely to mine.

A - Aftercare: what they’re like after sex.

Let me preface this by saying that Sebastian goes so hard and gives so much that afterwards, he's practically a boneless, wordless jellyfish man. So, while he makes sure you're okay, he mostly only has energy enough to pull you close and give you a little kissy on the head before he passes out.

B - Body part: their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s.

Since Sebastian was touch-starved and denied affection for so long, his favourite body part is his hands: touching you grounds him in reality and reminds him that you're real. He likes the versatility of his hands and the way he can coax so many different reactions from you depending on how and where he touches you. His hands are strong but his fingers are dexterous and nimble, and he uses this to his full advantage, either by caressing you as gently as if you're made of eggshells, brushing your head back from your face, tracing your lips with his thumb — or by pinning your wrists firmly above your head, making you come apart with just his fingers alone or holding you so tightly against him you can't move an inch.

His favourite body part (as I mentioned in my fluff alphabet) is your face. Watching your expressions when he's pleasuring you really gets him off. Pressing your foreheads together, breathing the same breath, intense eye contact all drive him insane.

C - Cum: anything to do with cum, basically.

Sex is a practise in vulnerability for Sebastian, so coming inside you and giving you a part of himself is the ultimate form of intimacy. He gets off on the thought of you carrying some of him inside you, and loves the feeling of you milking him dry when you come together.

D - Dirty secret: pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs.

He is needy. On the surface, Sebastian presents himself as this confident, charming assertive guy — and, generally speaking, he is; but when it comes to you, he's often so overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings that he can't control himself. Being intimate with you goes beyond physical desire, its how he expresses his love in the most pure and vulnerable way he knows how, trusting that when he bares his soul to you, you'll accept and cherish it every time. As a result, he's often at your mercy, begging you to hold him together while he falls apart for you.

E - Experience: how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

Before you, Sebastian had a little bit of experience, but he'd never been intimate with someone he truly loved, so your first time together really threw him off his game. However, he is incredibly observant, a fast learner and a very enthusiastic student, so he quickly learns what you like best.

F - Favorite position: this goes without saying.

Face to face. Whether it's missionary, straddling his lap, or pressed up against a wall, Sebastian craves that emotional connection as much as he does the physical. He goes crazy for eye contact during sex and loves having you moan and whimper into his mouth.

G - Goofy: are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

Sex, in Sebastian's opinion, is one of the most fun experiences a person can ever partake in. Laughing, tickling or being silly together usually ends in love making. If you try a new position and it doesn't work, or he attempts talking dirty and it comes out cringe, the two of you will quickly descend into fits of giggles. You have definitely laughed him out of you on several occasions.

H - Hair: how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Quite honestly, Sebastian likes the way he looks naked, and takes pride in his body, so he'd keep things neat and tidy but without going overboard. Natural, but groomed.

I - Intimacy: how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Though he's not a "typically" romantic person, Sebastian loves you more than anything or anyone in the world and expresses this most openly in the way he holds you close, kisses you, watches in awe when you fall apart for him. When words fail him, he lets his body speak — and boy does it speak.

J - Jack off: masturbation headcanon.

This boys sex drive is off the freakin charts, lol. He wakes up most mornings with an erection, and if he can't be with you, he's imagining being with you (and this happens a lot, usually at very inconvenient times). He is rather progressive when it comes to sexual health, especially for the time he's living in; having read a lot of anatomy and sexual health books (nicked from the Restricted Section, of course), he doesn't feel any shame about his sexuality, and in fact believes that masturbation is perfectly natural and healthy. In fact, if he tries to deny his urges, he finds he is less productive, more prone to frustrated outbursts, and has difficulty focusing on tasks.

K - kink: one or more of their kinks.

Praise. Sebastian loves to be told he's doing a good job. Calling him a good boy will basically short circuit his brain, but it doesn't matter whether the praise comes verbally or in the form of a mind-shattering orgasm; as long as he knows he's doing a good job, he's a very happy boy.

L - Location: favorite places to do the do.

Honestly, anywhere. He is obsessed with you, and when he needs you — he needs you. As long as he can get you away from prying eyes, he'll do it anywhere.

M - Motivation: what turns them on, gets them going?

Let's face it, it doesn't take much to get Sebastian going — just the thought of you alone is enough to turn him on — but he does especially like it when you're feeling passionate about something, whether you're fervidly telling him off for something, and your face is all cute and red from anger, or if you're rambling about something you absolutely love, or excited about something you've achieved, that spark is something that never fails to drive him crazy with lust.

N - No: something they wouldn’t do, turn offs.

While Sebastian is certainly an intense lover, he doesn't like pain-play or restriction (hands, airways, etc, either his or yours). Anything that makes him feel like he has no control over the situation tends to trigger his trauma responses and leads to anxiety. Given all this past traumas, he only wants to bring pleasure, and can't handle the thought of causing more pain or discomfort to someone he loves.

O - Oral: preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

Since he's so obsessed with your face, Sebastian looooves when you give him head and he can watch how pretty you look when you're on your knees for him. Making direct eye contact will drive him absolutely feral.

In return, he loves using his mouth on you —particularly when you're already overstimulated. and he uses his tongue to slowly coax out another shuddering orgasm.

P - Pace: are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

He likes to think he can take it slow, and usually he starts off with slow and sensual intentions: face kisses, lingering touches, long looks — but he loses himself in you so quickly that before long, he's just a sweaty, groaning sex machine. Hes got stamina though, so even when he's going hard, he's in for the long haul.

Q - Quickie: their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

Though he prefers longer sessions where he can take his time with you, he's not exactly known for his patience, and if he's feeling needy enough, he will definitely take the opportunity to take you quickly.

R - Risk: are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

As mentioned, anything that borders on painful or restrictive is a hard no for him; he just can't take pleasure from "hurting" you, even if its only for play. He does, however, love experimenting with different positions, relishing in all the ways he can use his body to make you come. Being so hungry for knowledge, he reads a lot of sexy books and loves to test

S - Stamina: how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

Sebastian isn't satisfied until you've come at least twice, but will always strive for three or four rounds. He loves sex, he loves having sex with you, and he feels an incredible sense of pride and accomplishment when he makes you feel good. So much so, that he tends to get carried away, and sometimes you have to settle him down so you can recover.

T - Toys: do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Anything an object can do, Sebastian can do better. Or at least, that's his motto, and he'll live and die by it. He won't deny you if you want to experiment with toys, but he'd prefer to rely on his own faculties to bring you pleasure.

U - Unfair: how much they like to tease.

Leading up to it, Sebastian will tease you and flirt with you like an absolute fiend, whispering dirty things into your ear or teasing your inner thighs under a table, but as soon as you're touching him, he loses all resolve. He's putty in your hands; he simply can't resist you or hold himself back. Tease you all he wants, but orgasm denial is not a term he understands when he finally has you.

V - Volume: how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Sebastian's the type to moan in your ear, or whimper into the crook of your neck, or plead desperately into your mouth. He's vocal, but he's quiet about it (and usually incomprehensible).

W - Wild card: a random headcanon for the character.

Sebastian doesn't drink. Given his infatuation with the dark arts, his obsessive tendencies and the impulsivity that lead to the death of his uncle, he avoids anything that will comprise the full control of his mind and body.

X - X-ray: let's see what’s going on under those clothes.

He's freckled all over, tall (somewhere around 6ft), lean but lightly muscular. He's got nice broad shoulders, lovely upright posture, and toned forearms with all those yummy veins. He's not particularly long, but he's thick.

Y - Yearning: how high is their sex drive?

If it were physically possible, he'd probably never stop, especially when it's with you — the person he loves with his entire being.

Z - Zzz: how quickly they fall asleep afterwards.

Immediately, lol. Sometimes while he's still on top of you, depending on the intensity and duration of the session, but he always looks so blissed out and happy that you don't mind.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow spicy headcanon #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy sebastian

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talkbycolor · 1 month

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monster x mediator headcanons . . . ↷

A/N; mghmgh lo necesito (sexual)

Pairing; "NauseAxe_404" x GN!Reader

CW; weird shit? no bro only him mutilating you / feeling unsafe (cutely) / MONSTER COCK MY FAVORITE / smooching the monster under your bed

i need him to have a long tongue, its canon in my head

before you even met, he swore you were a couple, he'll propose to you in a cringe-y way if you decide to stay in the room for more than five minutes

He will cut off your arms and legs as long as you don't escape, but don't worry, he will take good care of you and will look for other ways so you can continue writing

if you stay in the room, you can sleep in his bed, he will sleep under it (we all know he will get up while you sleep to hug you)

you can't talk to another human or monster anymore, you were supposed to be together forever, WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO GET CLOSE TO SOMEONE ELSE, IF THEY SEE YOU THEY WILL LOVE YOU AND HE DON'T WANT THAT

the walls of his room are full of drawings of you and him, photos too since his artistic skills cannot portray your beauty very well and to be honest, neither can the cameras but he loves to see you wherever he turns his gaze

no matter how scared or angry you look, in his eyes, you would never do anything wrong, it is impossible for his superstar to make a mistake in any way, all your writings are perfect, your voice, your body, your eyes, your skin, your teeth, your hair, everything

he's basically a dog, he can't help but gasp with excitement when he sees you, rubbing his crotch against you, drooling in your face even if you complain, he's not going to stop

"you bruise so beautifully", imperfections do not exist, he may be fucking you until he tears you but his look of love will not disappear, on the contrary, he will fall in love with your whimpers, with how you scream in such an adorable way

on the contrary, if you seem bored, he will ask you to hit him, take off his pants, cover him with bruises, all for love (cuarteto referencia)

you are still human, you need to eat, sleep, breathe. WELL FUCK YOU, you won't go anywhere even if it's just to look for food, you can sleep in his bed, you can breathe his air if you have to but don't go DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO DON'T GO

to be honest, you wouldn't be able to stand his pace, he'll fuck you until you vomit, even if you're bleeding, he'll feed you his saliva and your limbs will give in sooner than you think. but don't worry, he will continue loving your corpse

how many opportunities would you have to dress your superstar? He would take the opportunity to get adorable clothes and dress yourself with his own hands, putting slippers on your feet, cute bows in your hair, you don't need underwear, awww, look at you! such a pretty doll

he would never let you touch his axe, i'm sorry my love, but you have to respect his limits in the relationship, if you don't, do you really love him? of course he would never doubt the love you have for him! he just want understanding from you, dear

if you are willing, i also understand you, if they do give you the option to fuck a monster, you just take it but keep in mind that you will not be able to go to the hospital, that night you will know the true meaning of monster cock, it does not fit through your mouth and i highly doubt that it will fit your ass

even though he looks so desperate and willing to do unethical things, your biggest fan is a little shy. if you show him affection or interest, the red on your lips will sync perfectly with the red in his eyes. isn't that romantic?

he's smarter than you think, he probably used his ax quite a bit before you showed up at the hotel. it is a relief that you had never covered the camera of your cell phone or computer while you masturbated, after showering, while sleeping even, and yes, he obviously hacked your electronic devices

idk man, he seems pretty acoustic to me, you and axes as special interests, unstable reactions to changes he cannot control, poor understanding of other people's body language or facial expressions, specific way to organize or have his room

"babe give me a reason not to kill those who look at you" "you can't fuck me if you're in prison"

no es un chico malo, solo quiere ser él mismo

"everyone is so mean to me"

MAN I JUST LOVE HIM MY DELULU KING UEUEUUE

you don't have to say "I can fix him", he himself will tell you "FIX ME" (spoiler: you cant)

he looks cute when he cries, doesnt he?

♡

#yandere visual novel #yandere #yandere x reader #headcanons #nauseaxe 404 #404mxm #monster x mediator

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impishjesters · 7 months

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Jax-in-a-box Part 2

warning(s): suggestive/implied sexual content/language, potential out-of-character Jax (look you're just so big and it's distracting okay... let him be distracted and have thoughts), bratty(?) Jax note(s): I swear this wasn't intending to go down this route of horny rabbit man, but I was feeling some dom/sub vibe and it just happened I'm so sorry, I don't know why I'm like this. A/N: I wanted Jax to feel teeny so the reader is at least 9 ft/274 cm minimum. Man, Pomni must look like a step stool next to the reader... Also, this would take place at some point in the dating stage. Also, this is the same original requester of the Jack in the box reader, thank you for requesting more this was really fun to write~ request: I’m just requesting a little story if your up to continuing that request. So what l’m thinking is just a little scenario of the reader completely coming out of their box for the first time (well the first time they were caught) Mabye the scenario has Jax coming into reader’s room unexpectedly and seeing reader chilling outside their box? Though of course you can do/write anything you’d like for this. I’d like it if you made the reader even taller, since they are actually standing this time instead of being in their box.

While being inside your box brought a level of comfort your bedroom couldn’t provide, that didn’t mean you didn’t use it. No, the privacy of your bedroom was used to stretch your legs—something the others, specifically Jax, hadn’t known about. Not that it was a secret, you just loved seeing it wrack his brain as to what lay beneath.

The box sat abandoned, lid wide open as you lay in the provided bed just a few feet too small for you. It’s not like Caine had expected someone as tall as you after all, you aren’t even sure if Caine is aware you can even exit the box, but you made do and got yourself nice and comfy to relax.

You plucked up an interesting-looking book earlier from Caine’s weird collection of provided reading material. Nothing risque sadly, but you can’t help but feel like Caine has never even read any of these and merely plucked them from whatever and just willed them into existence.

The next hour easily passed, nose buried into the book, so much so that you didn’t even hear the jingling of your locked door being forced open. Hell, you didn’t even notice until he said something.

The first thing Jax saw was your box, empty, his eyes shifting to the bed to see long legs dangling off the bed before he realized who it was. Well, of course, it was you, it was your room and it was locked.

“You have fucking legs?!”

You snorted and finally looked up from the book, Jax looked completely flabbergasted, and fuck, if only you had a camera. “Just normal legs, but they could do that too.”

Jax didn’t even have it in him to retort to that little comment, no he was far too focused on the fact you had fucking legs. He’d been entirely convinced that you didn’t have anything below the waist, it’s like that box had this weird black fog that looked like a void you were just coming out of. There are so many questions he wants to ask…

How the fuck do you fit in the box with legs that long? Do you sit with your legs crossed or on your knees? Do they just vanish into that weird black void? Have you been just weirdly seat-jumping around this whole time?

He’s so caught up in his thoughts he doesn’t even process that you moved to sit at the edge of the bed, legs crossed at the ankles. It’s not until you clear your throat that he realizes how close he’s gotten and wow, you’re just sitting and you’re able to look him straight in the eye. Is this awakening something in him? God, he hopes not.

“What can I do for you, my little cotton tail?”

You loved the dumb little pet name, he claimed to hate it and it stuck. If he was gonna call you all sorts of dumb pet names he was going to get at least one of his own.

Jax cringed at the name and rubbed his face as if that would get rid of the growing blush. “Stop it with the name would ya?”

“Then stop calling me Jack.”

He waved his hand before snorting out a “Nah”.

“Fine, at least stop calling me Boxxie.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s cute.”

It was your turn to cringe, he only called you that because he was convinced you were a box when you first showed up. A sentient box, how fun. “Was there a reason you came lock-picking into my room?”

“Tsk tsk tsk, I’m not a heathen to stoop so low as to lock pick.” he held up one of the many keys in his possession. “I used a key.”

A chuckle left you, accompanied by an eye roll. “Yeah okay, that I didn’t say you could have but it’s you so I’ll let it slip. Now spill cotton tail.”

Jax’s face scrunched up at the name again before moving closer, forcing your ankles to unlock so he could stand between your legs. “I wanted to see if you’d give me the honors of helping in a little mischief. But after seeing your legs I’m not sure if I wanna go cause mischief or stay and admire them in their spread-out glory.”

“The only legs getting spread are yours, cotton tail.” Reaching out you placed a hand on his hip, your fingers easily wrapping around him, your thumb meeting your middle finger on his other hip. “Who do you want to bully now? It better not be Pomni again, that poor girl doesn’t need another scare so soon.”

He swallowed hard, eyes glued to his waist and the way your hand just completely wrapped around him. You’ve done it before but in a setting like this, it just hit differently. “It’s not bullying, she’ll be fiiine.”

Jax cleared his throat and used the arm closest to him as his own armrest, you easily supported his weight as he crossed one foot over the other. He was trying hard to play this whole situation off, he was supposed to be in charge and you’ve gone and taken the upper hand without even trying. “So uh, h-how tall are you now? Ya know, without the box.”

That was a good question.

You gestured for Jax to step back and he did so hesitantly before you pulled yourself up, grumbling at the way your knees hurt from getting off the already low-ass bed. Truly a downside to being taller than the furniture here, something you didn’t experience until you started taking breaks outside the box.

Jax let out a string of unintelligible words as you stood to your full height. He knew you were big before but you were a lot taller than he thought you’d be, god his neck already hurt. Is this how Pomni felt standing next to him? God, you could just, break him…

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You tried not to look so smug, but god damn if it wasn’t satisfying to see such a thirsty yet bewildered expression on the usually smug rabbit’s face. Truthfully you weren’t too sure just how tiny Jax would be at your full height, he’d already seemed small before but now you could just toss him like a Javelin spear.

“I take that back, sit your ass down.”

“Make me.” You crossed your arms with a grin and simply watched him curiously.

“Don’t think I won’t climb your raggedy ass and—”

“And what cotton tail?” He flinched when you bent down to get in his face. “Can’t knock me down if you climb me, not that you could on the ground either.”

Jax chuckled nervously but didn’t back down. “Oh yeah? Wanna try?”

Looks like causing mischief would be put on hold for an hour or two.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

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so-this-is-hell · 5 months

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Ok I watched the leaked episodes

Let’s start with the positives! I love positives!

- Alex Brightman put his whole Alexussy into this shit oh my god, Pentious and Adam actually sound really good. Adam singing is also really really good. Alex can sing in character and carry things well and I’m glad now he’s part of the project. Because at least it’ll be bearable if I see the other episodes.

-Vox is actually weirdly really compelling? Like I actually ended up enjoying the vibe he’s got and his own voice grew on me, I know it’s not what people wanted but it works well.

-Nifty’s voice is pretty ok, so is Charlie’s. They’re some of the better voices of the cast, Alastor’s performance was uh. It wasn’t bad so there’s that!

-the opening exposition was needed but also a bit hamfisted- wait shit the positives- uh, I love the direction it went? Art wise?

-the songs are pretty good, they get you from point A to point B, and at least wasn’t Poison levels of cringe in writing.

-Charlie actually helping Pentious in episode 2 try to repent and be a better person actually feels nice, like a crumb of what the show should of be-

…

Ok let’s get to the point.

-the episodes clearly are trying to shove as much of the plot as humanly possible, to the point that you get whiplash.

-Angel Dust, Vaggie, Valentino, Husk all have voices that either do not fit, crack from the pressure to perform, or are trying so hard to mimic the previous voice that it’s actually worrying. The Angel dust one in particular I’ll get to when I get to the point.

-The plot starts with the main antagonist, literally telling Charlie that her plan is pointless and she should give up. There’s no actual “I want” song to counter this, unless you count the song where Adam mocks her for trying and tells her the exterminations will happen twice a year now.

-Pentious at least wasn’t a creep like i was fearing in the script, but he comes off too pathetic? Like I know he was pathetic and that’s the point but why the fuck does he want to be equal to the Vees now? Didn’t he want to rule over hell himself? I know the instagram had him crop himself into pictures with the Vees but remember those aren’t canon!

-I realized I was able to hop in because I had Wikipedia level knowledge of these characters to the point they click in my head (and enough to where Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie and Husk all felt a little off but that’s neither here nor there). But god I cannot imagine being a new person trying to jump into this show, this is bad. None of the characters get actually introduced outside of Charlie, the show references the pilot which isn’t part of the show so new audiences have no idea what they’re talking about, and the staff gets actually introduced in episode 2. EPISODE 2, TO PENTIOUS!? GIRLIE POP HAVE HIM COME EPISODE 1 THEN?

-Animation that’s either too floaty, too janky, too stiff or straight up traced. Which I don’t blame the animators for, Mammon was busy buying 10,000 dollars worth of peacocks to bother paying them more than a dollar per frame. There’s no charm here.

-Where did the fucking cat key come from? No I’m serious. Where did it come from? It just kinda exists now.

-Alastor’s commercial is just straight up MEAN and he’s often more mean than chaotic, which I know is ironic since he wasn’t a good person and I wasn’t expecting him to be but it’s to a point where it’s not even fun mean. He literally called Charlie’s endeavor “Daddy issues”. It felt like he was just there to slap Charlie in the face.

-Angel Dust rant is gonna be so long that I saved it for last.

I have to put it under the read more because of talk of SA! Fun!

Ok.

I’m saying this as someone who loved him from the pilot and was willing to excuse his behavior as “flaws he can work on” since Addict and everything else proved that there was more under the surface and he was a character that could change and grow and-

…

Angel dust, the rape victim… the guy running away from his abuser…

The Angel dust who has traumatic episodes so fucking graphic that he flashes back to them when he’s performing.

Saying “yeah no, fucking sexually exploit me! It turns me on!”

Viv, I know you’re not reading this but I mean this genuinely.

Fuck you.

As someone who’s family has experienced sexual abuse, as someone who’s family still has CPTSD because men in power decide to exploit them… how fuckin dare you make a character enjoy their own exploitation.

This isn’t me kink shaming a sexual character! He can be sexual and like sex! It’s never been the problem and hell it could of been liberation to have sex he deserves.

But no.

Let’s make the SA victim into the sexual harassment character, let’s make the SA victim the Stolas of the show where he wears down his love interest so thin that they have to give up.

Let’s make the SA victim still work under his shitty abuser, and make that into a joke as the abuser mentions wanting to rape everyone in the hotel.

Don’t pay to watch this show, I mean it.

Pirate it.

Hell don’t even watch it, find something better to watch. I’ve been binging anime as of late and I still like captain lazerhawk.

#hazbin leaks #hazbin hotel critical #oh yeah btw I reneg my statement of letting go of Angel dust #I’m stealing his ass #Viv stole from people anyways #Angel dust is now my character and I am keeping him away from Valentino #The radio dust au is gonna be my comfort from this

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tiddygame · 3 months

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i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs

the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:

tw: description of a panic attack? i think?

[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]

imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.

now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.

everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.

if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.

it's why he learned to always wear the mask.

when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.

he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.

the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.

he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”

what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.

he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.

…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.

scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.

so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.

when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.

the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.

simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.

with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)

johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).

when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.

their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)

ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.

in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.

“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.

“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.

“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?

“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?

“yes.”

but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.

jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.

ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.

fuck.

he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.

stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.

he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.

both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.

ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.

they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”

it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.

he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.

“do that again.”

ghost just gave him a confused look.

“smile.”

such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.

…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.

“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.

“please?”

fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.

ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.

soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.

“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”

ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.

his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.

he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.

“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?

ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.

“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.

“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.

ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”

“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.

“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—

“no.”

the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.

“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.

“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.

one last chance to not fuck everything up.

“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”

“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”

he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.

he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.

johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.

“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”

ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.

“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.

“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”

his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.

johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”

there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.

“johnny-”

“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”

he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”

johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”

simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”

“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”

“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.

johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”

he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.

“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”

“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.

“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.

ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?

“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.

johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.

“did you think i was being serious earlier?”

“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.

johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”

“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”

johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”

simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?

johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.

“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.

ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?

it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.

he needs to sleep.

#ghost: i look like a monster :(#soap: OH NO HES HOT #[also the interaction ghost has with the doctor is based on real life experience both me and other family members have had lmao]#also also it goes w/o saying but this isn’t negative towards cosmetic surgery but rather the cosmetic surgery industry #not pictured: me having a full scale debate w/ myself over tagging the person this is literally for #look i have anxiety alright #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #unreliable narrator #(soap is so fucking in love and ghost is so fucking stupid)#streamer au #streamer! au #streamer! soap #or is it #streamer!soap #god i hate tumblrs tagging system #my writing

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happy74827 · 6 months

Note

hey are requests open…. If so can I have Dom Matthew Patel x Sub female reader (lime)

Study Buddy

[Matthew Patel x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Things get a little heated after Matthew admits his feelings to you.

WC: 1831

Category: Spice/Lime, Fluff

Matthew as a Dom? Lmfao that’s a new one (personally he gives me total Sub vibes 🤷‍♀️), but a request is a request. Hopefully I wrote it to where you like it :)

『••✎••』

Matthew Patel. A nerd with an affinity for magic. The kind of guy you would see at your local comic book store or performing “One Day More” from Les Mis in an empty movie theatre.

He was also your best friend's ex-boyfriend. He was also currently on top of you.

The two of you were in your dorm room, and you had been studying. It was exam week at college, and you were cramming for your finals when you heard the familiar sound of someone opening your door. You were on the ground, papers, and books splayed out around you. Matthew stood, hands in his pockets.

His mouth hung open slightly as he took a deep breath.

"You're so..." He paused. "I mean, you look so..." He trailed off. You cocked an eyebrow.

"Matty… are you musical theatre-ing me right now? Because if so, I really need to study-"

"No! No, just listen." He said, sitting next to you. You could tell he was nervous, fiddling with his sleeves. "You're beautiful, you're smart, and you're my friend.”

“Uh… huh? Thanks, I guess, but where are you going with this exactly-?" You asked, trying to return to your work. He cut you off, standing.

"Ramona and I never worked out, and that's because she didn't like me. I get it, but you... You actually care about me and... and... I really… I like you a lot and... And... Can you not do that?!"

You stopped writing, looking up at him. You were surprised to see his face was red and that he was sweating slightly.

"Can I not what?"

"You're doing it! The thing! With your eyebrows! It's distracting me!"

"Matthew, calm down." You said, setting down your pencil and standing up. He was about parallel with you, height-wise. Not bad, considering he was a year older.

"No! This is a big deal! This is serious! I want... I want to ask you something."

You looked him in the eyes, confused.

"What is it, Matty?" You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked away.

"Will you... Go out with me?"

There was a long pause as you processed what had just happened.

"Matthew..." You said, and he visibly cringed.

"I knew it; I knew I was being too forward. I just-"

You cut him off with a hug, burying your face in his chest.

"You're really sweaty; did you know that?" You mumbled, and you felt him laugh. He returned your hug, pulling you in. “And to be honest, you do actually look like a major pirate in this lighting."

"Uh,” His face fell. "Thanks?"

"But, I happen to have a type, you see. Sweaty pirates with magic powers who quote musicals. And I'm pretty sure that describes you perfectly." You said, smiling as you felt his heartbeat pick up. He let out a soft sigh, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"That's... That's a relief."

The two of you stayed there for a moment before he cleared his throat and gently placed a hand on your cheek, making you look at him.

"So, uh, I haven’t done this in a while.”

“You mean since that week in seventh grade with Ramona?” You asked.

His face turned red. “Ramona told you that?! Oh man, did she tell you about Pilgrim, too, or... Okay, we don’t have to talk about this; let's just..."

He leaned down, and you felt his lips press against yours. It was gentle and sweet, and he pulled away, leaving you wanting more.

"You're such a dork, Matty."

"… A good dork, right?"

"Yeah, a good dork." You smiled, kissing his nose. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. For not having kissed someone in a long time, he was pretty good.

His hands slid down to rest on your hips, and your arms draped over his shoulders. Your hands tangled in his hair as his tongue gently pressed against your bottom lip, requesting entry.

You opened your mouth, letting him deepen the kiss. You felt your body being pressed against the wall behind you, and you let out a soft gasp. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, gently rubbing it against yours.

The kiss was messy, tongues and teeth clashing. It wasn’t the most elegant, but it was passionate and full of emotion.

He pulled away, looking down at you. His lips were red and swollen, his hair was messed up, and his face was flushed. You assumed you looked similar.

"… uhm, I think I accidentally set your textbook on fire."

You looked over to where you had been sitting and saw a large pile of ashes where your textbook had been.

"Aw, shit! Matthew, how am I supposed to take finals now?"

"Uhh... I’ll buy you another one. I'm sorry."

You gave him a look, and he looked down in shame. He looked like a sad puppy, and you sighed.

"Don't worry about it. I can just use my computer. And... Well, I wouldn't mind some help studying."

His eyes lit up, and he grinned, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Yeah, I can help. Anything for you, babe."

"Okay, ew, don't call me babe."

"Right, sorry. Honey, Sweetie, Darling, Cutie-"

"Matthew."

"Right. Sorry. Anyway, what was it that you were studying for again?"

You laughed, and the two of you got to work, studying and laughing together. Except, you didn’t study because you were too busy making out. But, that was probably the best studying of all.

The floor became your bed, and it was covered in papers. But you didn’t mind. Because the boy who had previously been known as a nerd with mystic abilities and questionable taste in music was now on top of you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Matthew didn’t strike you as the type of guy to take charge. In fact, you would have been surprised if he wasn't a virgin. But as he whispered to you, his hands running along your sides, his lips pressing against yours, his body pressed against yours... You could tell he wanted this just as much as you did.

It didn’t take long before you matched his energy, becoming a sweaty, blushing, panting mess. Your hands were under his shirt, running along his torso. His skin was hot, and you were sure your hands were sweaty. But he didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, he seemed to enjoy it if the groan that came from his mouth when your hand brushed across a particularly sensitive area was anything to go by.

Your name rolled off his tongue, and your heart raced as he whispered into your ear again.

"Do that again, please..."

And who were you to refuse such a polite request?

You sat up, and he adjusted his position so that he was kneeling between your legs, your arms around his neck, and your forehead pressed against his.

His coat was discarded, and the two of you were a blushing mess. His breathing was heavy, and so was yours. Your clothes had become disheveled, and your hair was messy.

But that didn’t matter because the way he was looking at you made you feel more beautiful than you ever had before.

"Y-you're amazing." He muttered, his hand on your hip. "I've liked you for so long. And now, we're here. I never thought I would be this close to you, ever. You're amazing."

You blushed, looking down.

"Matthew, you're embarrassing me."

"Sorry, I just... I need to say it: you're... you're so gorgeous."

You blushed harder, burying your face in his neck and taking a deep breath. He smelled like pine and smoke, and his hair tickled your face.

You felt him chuckle, a deep rumble in his chest. His fingers gently stroked your sides, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He then moved his head so his lips were against your ear.

"You wanna hear a secret?"

"Yes, please."

"My favorite musical is The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Not the Disney movie, but the actual play."

You burst out laughing, looking up at him. He smiled, looking proud of himself.

"Oh, god, Matthew, why?"

"What? I like the songs! I sang it back in high school. Granted, I sang it behind the curtains because I was only picked for the ensemble, but I still like it!"

You couldn’t stop the laughter coming from your mouth, and he began to laugh as well. His laugh was more of confusion than anything else, but it was adorable nonetheless.

"God, you're such a nerd."

"Oh, like you aren't a nerd as well! What was it that you were listening to on your laptop the other day? 'Hamilton' or something?"

"Okay, first of all, Hamilton is amazing, and I will not let anyone, not even you, say otherwise."

"Fair enough. But, can we continue now?"

"I mean, you could just sing a song from the Hunchback of Notre Dame for me."

He laughed, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Maybe later." He said, and his lips were back on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands found their way under your shirt, gently running along your sides. He was gentle and sweet and very eager. His touches were light and loving, and it didn't take long for him to become more confident.

Soon, the kisses became rougher and sloppier, his touches more firm. His hips bucked into yours, and you groaned, breaking the kiss. He grinned, doing it again. You let out a shaky breath, gripping his hair.

"Matty..."

"Yeah?"

"Those demon… girls? , the uh... the ones that follow you around. Can they see us? I really don't want them watching."

His head perks up, watching you.

"Uh, not if I don't want them to. They usually stay in my shadow so they can't see. Besides, I've told them that I'm done with the whole vengeance thing. They're chill."

"Oh, okay.”

He kissed your cheek, and his lips were back on yours in a second, kissing you hungrily. His hands roamed your body, and your hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly.

Yeah, you didn’t study that night. The excitement was too much. Instead, the two of you stayed in each other’s arms for hours, the smell of burning paper surrounding the room.

Excluding the fact that Matthew had burned your textbook and possibly owed you an entire binder full of notes, you had no complaints.

Matthew Patel might be a nerd, a loser, and a total weirdo to some. But to you, he was the sweetest, most loving, and the most wholesome person you had ever met.

And, as he pressed a kiss to your temple and muttered an "I love you," you couldn't help but smile and think that maybe, just maybe, there was some truth to the "nerds can get chicks" stereotype.

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shipmanisms · 4 months

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valentine's day with the yjs ୧ 💌 ୨

cw: pretty much just fluff !!! may have swear words included tho ??

a/n: made this for me and everyone else who's single on valentine's day too :l hope this make you all feel a lil better and ily mwah mwah, happy ( early ) valentine's day babes <3

NATALIE SCATORCCIO

- pretends she hates valentines day and everything that has to do it but deep down she adores it

- will stand awkwardly looking at the different kind of chocolates and sweets and being like "uhmmmm.....reeses are never a bad option i guess?" ALSO I FEEL LIKE she'd ask other people buying stuff for their partners what they're gonna get them cuz she's so confused 😭

- we all know she's a sucker for kisses, cuddles, holding hands, AAAANYTHING that has to do with physical touch but hates showing it so i think she'd use valentine's day as an excuse to be publicly affectionate a bit

- ok that's all i might add more later on

JACKIE TAYLOR

- she's OBSESSED with holidays and celebrations, whether it's valentine's day, christmas, anything

- waking you up at like 7am and being like "hi hi valentine hey you're my valentine it's time to wake up my valentine" while shaking you and smooching you all over

- she's never letting go of you on vday. always clinging by your side, holding your other hand while you're brushing your teeth, talking to you from outside of the door while you're on the toilet, hugging you by the waist when you're cooking

- wearing ridiculous matching outfits with her in PUBLIC. i feel like she'd have those shirts that say "their queen" AND YOU "her king/queen/monarch(☠️)" OR GETTING YOU THOSE SILLY LIL HEADBANDS THINGIES WITH THE JIGGLY HEARTS..

- knows exactly what to buy you and she's already gotten everything prepared😭 it's adorable cause she'll give you a gift of something you forgot you wanted and you're just sitting there standing like :O

SHAUNA SHIPMAN

- ditches you for jackie. end.

- JK. i think she'd just treat it like a regular day honestly

- gets you a chocolate and calls it a day but not in a bad way??? LIKE she already loves you and does a lot of things to show it so she doesn't really think valentine's day is necessary

LOTTIE MATTHEWS

- she's suuuuuuuuch a softie for showing you off and getting to shower you with gifts :(

- she wouldn't wanna go out too much, she'd probably have everything set out already. your gifts hiding in the closet, your sweets hidden in the fridge, everything prepared and on point

- i feel like since some of the yjs were mean to her and telling her to just stop talking and stuff, she'd be kinda closed off at the start and she'd be scared to show you how much she loves and adores you, but then when she sees that you accept and give her the same love back and even more she's SOOOO hyper

- writes you cheesy letters that you keep in your drawer forever and probably even little drawings of your favourite things or you and her 😭

VAN PALMER

- THE SILLY!!!!!MAI SILLY!!!DE SILLY!!!:DD

- arcade dates w them on valentine's day or going like on an amusement park☝️☝️

- they'd go print out some silly t-shirts for y'all... like "i love my van" with a picture of a van LMAOO and they'd make you wear it all the time

- if you want to do smth on that day, you BET you will. they'll never let you down i SWEAR they're the sweetest pookiest babiest to ever exist :(((((((((

TAISSA TURNER

- hates valentine's day more than anything... "what the fuck im NOT wearing that" when you ask her to match outfits with you but does it anyway

- she's miserable doing anything on valentine's day cause she thinks it's cringe but warms up to it when she sees how happy it makes you

- she's the girl that said "happy wife happy life" btw so she'll do anything u ask her to no matter how much she despises it which is.. a lot probably

- gets you a chocolate and takes 2 hours to decide if she should write you a corny letter with it and she scribbles down some ideas but then just puts :)

LAURA LEE

- as a christian we shouldn't be celebrating vday but im not really that religious so????

- but laura lee is so anyways she would be all like "im not going to sin, i don't want to disappoint my lord" 😭😭😭

- she'd still go on a date w you, well more like flower picking and stuff and she'd probably pull out the the bible and start reading to you but you love her too much to say no so you just listen

- ok yeah that's it end of post mwah mwah

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maximumsass · 3 months

Text

Green Eyes of Envy Pt. 4

Synopsis: It’s yours and Mel’s first happy hour with the Abbott crew as a couple. You still haven’t told anyone but of course are discretely touching and glancing at each other every chance you get. But of course the night doesn’t go quite as planned and you have to decide whether you’ll defend the redhead’s honor or if you hold back and let her defend yours. Let’s just say it gets physical possibly in the good way and the not so good way. What will go down at the Abbott happy hour, keep reading to find out!

Author’s Note: Hi my lovely fanfic village! So I was inspired to write this because we all know how Melissa is already ready for a fight but what happens when the situation arises where she could fight for the reader or the tables are turned and the reader fights for her. I think it’s an interesting story because so far we’ve seen the really sweet, petite, cutesy, and caring reader and this possibly puts the reader into a don’t fuck with me or my girl role. But will Melissa even allow that??!! It was a lot of fun for me to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Let me know what you think! And please send me any requests that you have! Lots of love and all da hugs! 💜

Warning: I use handicapped as a slur. I want to preface this by saying that I am not trying to offend anyone or upset anyone. Please don’t come for me or cancel me. I promise I mean no one any harm. I myself have several physical disabilities, so I’m seriously not trying to upset the disability community. I’m purely using it for the plot. I hope y’all understand.. Also SMUTT and of course as always FLUFF!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Word Count: 3.75K

You and the Abbott crew had gone out for drinks after school. It had been a few weeks since Mel had ended things with Gary. You and the redhead were trying to take things slow but given the fact that you two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other whenever you were alone together made it very challenging to say the least. Okay fine…you two had participated in some adult extra cirricular activities. But hey as we teachers say it has helped make us well rounded individuals in that aspect of our lives.

You both are on high alert to keep the PDA to the barest of minimums in front of your coworkers. You feel Melissa’s hand intentionally slide down your back, making sure not to miss your butt, and dropping her hand right next to yours and hooking her pinky with yours.

You give her a big smirk and chuckle quietly to yourself. “Hi I’ll have a Sour Monkey and she’ll have a Victory classic, please. And then whatever else she orders, please put in on my tab.” You hand the bartender your card and smile. “Thanks so much, I appreciate you.” You say to the bartender as she hands you your drinks. You hand the redhead her drink and lift up your own. “To having a great night with the most gorgeous woman in the world. Cheers.” You say as you look at her with immense affection.

“Cheers pretty girl.” She says to you with a big cheesy grin on her face as she squeezes your hand as you clink glasses.

“What’s got you smiling so big Melissa? I didn’t even know you were capable of looking like that!” Ava teases as she slides in beside us.

“None ya business!” The redhead quips at Ava, the big smile totally gone, replaced by her infamous today is not the day and I am not the one death glare.

Ava looks at the redhead cleary trying to decide whether to poke the bear more or not. To keep that from happening you jump in with a funny antidote that happened with one of your kiddos this week. And thankfully the conversation stays civil. You are trying to pay attention to what’s being said and throw in your two cents here and there but you can’t take your eyes off of Jessica Rabbit, it’s like you’ve been hypnotized and whenever you’re even in the same vicinity as each other your brain turns to silly putty and you become this little drooling love sick puppy. It makes you cringe just admitting that to yourself.

You hear a deep loud voice in the background and it snaps you back into reality. You look around and you see Gary talking to Gregory. Weird you think to yourself, maybe it’s just a coincidence that he’s at this bar. You look at him a few more seconds before focusing your attention back on Ava and Melissa.

“There you are!” Gary exclaims to Melissa. He has somehow managed to get right next to her. “I just wanted to come and see for myself.”

All three of us have a what the hell is he talking about look on our faces.

“What are you talking about Gary?” Melissa asks in an exasperated tone.

“Well I have people who have been telling me they’ve seen you around with someone. And I just had to come see for myself. And here she is right in front of my very eyes. You picked a handicapped bitch over me. Figures you’d pick a charity case for your next go around.” He practically declares to the whole bar.

You scoff in disbelief that this is actually happening right now. “Ava, hold this for me please.” You say as you take off your earrings and hand them and your ring to her. “Excuse me, what did you just call me?” You say as you cut in between him and Melissa and give him a little shove to get him away from her. You step towards him with your arms crossed. Gary looks stunned at what you’ve just done.

“What’s that matter? Are you just now realizing how offensive what just came out of your mouth was? Oh my gosh I just remembered what you said. I believe you called me a handicapped bitch who’s Melissa’s charity case. A very colorful description if I do say so myself. But here’s the thing just like you just stated she picked the handicapped bitch of a charity case over you, and I bet that just nearly demolished any ego that you had about yourself. Here’s the other thing big guy she’s been screaming my name every night since she left you…how long has that been? Oh yeah three weeks. And I bet it made you feel really proud of yourself when you got her to do that with you that one time. So I’d say when we compare the two, she made the right choice to choose the handicapped bitch of a charity case. You’ve seen us, now get the fuck out of this bar. And I advise you to not use that disgusting, hateful language towards anyone else.” You say inches away from his face.

You turn to walk back to your place at the bar when you hear him go. “What did you even just say to me? I didn’t understand a word.” And then proceeds to talk gibberish as he imitates your speech impairment.

Meanwhile back at the bar Melissa is squaring up Ava.

“Melissa, I’m not denying that I’m scared of you because we both know I am, but I have several inches on you and will use them. If you try to get involved in what’s going on over there. I cannot have two of my people getting involved in a bar brawl, especially a beloved veteran teacher such as yourself.” Ava says quietly to the redhead while getting as close as possible to her in case she needs to grab her if she tries lunging towards you and Gary.

“You heard what he just said to her, he needs to know that no one talks to her like that and lives to see another day!” Melissa exclaims with fury in her eyes and she is about to do whatever it takes to make Gary pay.

Thankfully Barb magically appears by Melissa’s side. “You need to get ahold of yourself and walk away. I don’t know what is going on between you and (Y/N) but the way you two have been making love eyes at each other for weeks now I assume has something to do with why she’s taking on Gary. She’s made her bed and now she has to lie in it, the best thing for you to do is to come with me so that you are able to take care of her when this chaos ends.” Barb says in a low voice so only Melissa can hear. Despite the fury boiling in her right now, Melissa knows that Barb’s right and she goes still and lets the brunette lead her to the other end of the bar.

You pause and scoff to yourself and then you are not in control anymore and you see red, you whip back around and proceed to punch him as hard as you can square in the jaw and he immediately drops to the floor. You scramble to him and straddle his chest as one hand is on his throat and the other is gripping his face forcing him to look at you. “Stay the fuck away from her! Got it big guy?!” You scream at him. You push his face away forcefully as you get off of him and stand up and take a few steps out of his reach. You look around you, it’s like the bar had frozen in time, everyone in the bar was staring at you in a collective look of disbelief, and silence that covered the place like a gray smog.

“Sorry for the commotion y’all. I will just close out my tab and let y’all enjoy the rest of your night.” You announce to the bar, you hold up your hands to gesture you mean no harm.

You walk back to your place at the bar. “I’m so sorry about what happened. Honestly I wasn’t on planning on getting physical with the guy. But whew he took me back to childhood trauma with the playground bullies. And as Mel says my fight or fight response was triggered and I guess that was the end result. I totally understand if you don’t want me to come back, and I will respect that.” You say to the bartender as you tip and sign the receipt.

The bartender reaches for your arm. “Honey if I was in your shoes as soon as he started saying that filth to you, he’d been knocked out. So I respect the level of control you had during the confrontation. If anyone is getting banned from the bar it’s that dirt bag. You are welcome back any time. Now go take care of that hand.” The bartender says to you.

You turn back towards your coworkers, they were clearly talking about what had just went down, not so subtly eyeing you as they talked amongst themselves.

“Danggggg (Y/N)! Look at you being a little secret MMA fighter! That man hit the floor so fast, you could’ve blinked and missed the sucker punch that you dealt out!” Ava exclaims.

“You good (Y/N)?” Gregory asks as he looks at you concerned.

“Not doing so hot currently, but I’ll be okay.” You say giving him a small smile.

“If you need anything you just let us know. We got you.” He says and then pats your shoulder gently.

“Thanks man, I appreciate that.” You squeeze his shoulder with your good hand.

“Oh my god (Y/N)! You had me literally speechless! Which speaks for itself obviously!” Jacob exclaims.

Before you can respond to Jacob, Janine engulfs you in a hug. “I was so worried about you (Y/N)! Are you okay? Is your hand okay? Is it hurting you right now?” Janine asks you rapidly.

You hug Janine gently back to encourage her to let you go. “Thanks for the concern Janine. I am not doing so hot right now. I think my hand’s broken to be honest. And yeah it doesn’t feel great right now.” You answer Janine’s questions, just talking about your hand makes you realize how badly your hand hurts. You need to get the fuck out of here and to the ER you think to yourself.

“One more question for you (Y/N). Does this mean that you and Melissa are a thing?” Jacob asks excited.

“Oh honey that’s a question for Ms. Schemmenti to answer.” You say to him with a smirk. He gets this look of horror on his face.

“You know what, it’s none of my business. Forget I asked.” He says nervously.

“Have a good rest of your night you two.” You say as you move past them.

At the end of the bar you see Barb and Jessica Rabbit herself, Barb has her arm around Melissa’s shoulder. To the average observer you’d think that the brunette is trying to console her friend. But you know better, she’s actually gently restraining the redhead from moving from her seat so that she doesn’t do even more damage to Gary as well as create another scene in the bar which has just gotten back to normal activity.

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for Melissa’s reaction then you walk right up to them. “Ladies! What a lovely evening it’s been, don’t you agree?” You tease with a small nervous laugh. Both women look back at you with deadpan expressions.

“Okayyy, too soon to joke about, noted.” You say.

“Young lady what on earth were you thinking?! Oh wait, obviously you weren’t thinking! You little girl are 100 pounds soaking wet and that barbarian is probably 3 times your size and could’ve easily severely injured or killed you! We were worried sick about you! Not to let the cat out of the bag but this woman is head over heels in love with you. And she would’ve been beside herself and never would forgive herself if anything happened to you!” Barb scolds you.

“Barb you heard what he said to me, no one gets to say such hateful things towards me and be spared of my wrath. Besides if I wouldn’t have stepped in, she would’ve and we both know I’m the one with more restraint, she would’ve probably ran out to her car and got her bat and then we’d be looking at murder charges possibly.” You defend yourself.

“That’s so not true!” The redhead exclaims.

“Oh come on babe! Be honest with yourself!” You tease as you nudge her playfully.

“Fine… there might be a possibility that might’ve happened.” She grumbles.

“There ya go! Barb if it makes you feel any better I’m pretty sure I broke my hand when I decked him so I am suffering the consequences of this shit show. Also I’m head over heels in love with your best friend and will protect her no matter the cost. It’s also nice to know how much you care about me.” You say as you smile at her. You step closer to Mel, you inhale her sweet but savory perfume and then you stroke her hair as you lean in and kiss her temple. You lean your head against hers and get full body chills. God I really do fucking love her you think to yourself.

Melissa wants to cuss you out in all of the Italian ways she knows how. But hearing you say that you love her and feeling your touch on her, she just wants to cry with relief that you’re not more injured than you are. God damn it Barb being right for the second time that day, she fucking loves you, just feeling your head on hers brings a wave of calm that she should not feel in this moment.

“Well I’ll leave you two love birds alone. Melissa, you take care of that girl and make sure she’s okay. And you miss little MMA fighter, behave yourself and make sure she doesn’t go after that man! I’ll see you both at school on Monday.” Barb says with a wave as she walks toward the other teachers.

“Are you trying to scare me to death by putting yourself in a situation where you could’ve been killed?!” Melissa scolds you but she can’t hide the tears that are pricking her eyes.

You pull her into hug and hold her tight. “I’m sorry angel. As soon as I heard what he said to me, it was over and no one could’ve stopped me from defending myself and you. I’m okay though and I’m right here and just thankful to be in your arms.” You say to her softly.

After you break away from each other. She gives you a concerned look. “Let me see your hand.” She says softly.

You give her your hand that is now turning black and blue. She gently touches it to see what the damage is, you can’t help but let out a little hiss because oh my god does it hurt. She gently kisses it and lets go.

“I’m gonna head over to the University Hospital and have them take care of me. I don’t want you to waste your night with that. I’ll text you when I get released.” You say in a matter of fact tone.

“No no no, you are not gonna do the whole Miss Independent I’m fine and I don’t need anyone thing! If you think for five seconds that I’m not going to be right beside you through all of this, you have another thing coming! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this but you’re stuck with me taking care of you and making sure you’re okay when it comes to anything that life throws at you, even when you make boneheaded decisions in which you fight men three times your size! Which by the way I’m making you swear you’ll never do again!” She says in a there’s no debating this tone.

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed at me.” You say with a chuckle. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand gorgeous.” You say as you kiss her softly.

You drive to the hospital in silence, only the music from the radio filling the car. But Melissa throughout the whole ride makes sure to have one hand resting on your thigh every chance she gets.

She finds a spot relatively close to the emergency room entrance. She stops the car and then looks at you. She has to know if you really meant what you said to Barb.

“I need to know if you really meant what you said to Barb about me.” She says and you can see the vulnerability on her face.

“When I said that I love you?” You ask to clarify that’s what she means even though you know that it is.

She nods looking at you expectantly.

“Well it’s definitely not how I planned on saying it. I was going to do it after a romantic date or after an amazing night of pleasing each other. But of course I meant it Mel. I really do love you.” You say as you reach over and caress her cheek.

She leans towards you and you share a slow passionate kiss. “I love you so much (Y/N).” She says softly when the kiss ends.

You both just gaze at each other lovingly for a few moments, soaking in this memory that you’ll both cherish forever.

You go into the emergency room and get checked in and are taken to a room. You both snuggle together as you sit and wait for the nurse to come in.

The nurse comes in. “Hi, what brings you into the ER today?” She asks you.

Before you can explain what happened, Melissa jumps in. “Well this googootz thought it was a smart idea to punch a guy three times her size.” She says giving you a teasing look.

“Too bad you already said how much you love this googootz.” You tease back giving her a playful nudge. “But yes ma’am that is what happened and I think I broke my hand.” You answer the nurse.

“Damn if a broken hand is all you walked away with, I’d hate to see the other guy.” The nurse says.

You and Melissa give each other a look and then chuckle to yourselves.

Turns out you did have small fractures throughout your hand. They put a cast on you and refer you to a doctor to come back and see in a few weeks.

Melissa drives you home and insists that you go straight to the bedroom. You reluctantly follow her orders.

She climbs into bed with you. “I’m not going to lie seeing you defend my honor really turned me on.” She whispers in your ear. “And I would seem ungrateful if I didn’t somehow show my gratitude for my knight in shining armor.” She says in her husky seductive voice.

She then proceeds to undress you with head spinning speed and then starts at your breasts as she bites and sucks and teases clearly marking her territory. Just by that alone she’s already making you wet.

She’s not teasing you tonight, she wants you to know how hungry she is to please you. She gets to your folds and with one motion licks the juices off that she’s created. Your whole body shudders and you let out a little moan.

“Let me hear that beautiful moan of yours pretty girl.” She says in her husky seductive voice.

She slowly glides her fingers up and down your folds until she finds your clit. She rubs it slowly and gently at first, watching you unravel with every touch, she then penetrates you with two fingers and then starts eating you out until you are so tight around her fingers that she knows it’s just a matter of seconds until you reach that orgasmic bliss. She turns her attention back to your clit and rubs fast and hard and just like she thought you break open like a dam and she drinks up your cum like it’s the best drink she’s ever had.

She watches you in awe as you ride out your orgasm high. You look so fucking beautiful she thinks to herself. When you slowly come down she leans over you gazing down with adoration and a loving smile.

“Let me clean you up.” She whispers. She gets off the bed and is gone for a few minutes. “Let me know if this is too hot for you and she puts a warm towel on your leg.

“No baby that’s good.” You say still trying to catch your breath. And then proceeds to clean you up with a warm towel! What is this the platinum sex experience you think to yourself.

After she’s done she climbs back into bed and takes you in her arms.

“Now don’t you dare think this means that I condone this behavior!” She teases you with a playfully nudge.

“I know! I don’t. But can I say it was the best showing of gratitude I’ve ever experienced!” You say with a chuckle.

“Good amore mio.” She says softly as she kisses your head.

“Look at you speaking Italian to me! What does it mean?” You ask as you look at her with genuine curiosity.

“My love.” She whispers softly in your ear.

You look at her with tears filling your eyes.

“I love you Melissa Schemmenti.” You say softly and then you gently kiss her.

“I love you more my knight in shining armor.” She says with a smile.

You two lay there and just bask in the warmth of each other and the love that you share. Until you have to break the silence because the joke you just thought of is too good not to say.

“I wonder if we could make money off of me being a charity case.” You say laughing quietly.

Mel rolls her eyes and then pulls you close and kisses you softly, until you’re on the brink of falling asleep on her chest listening to her heart that beats just for you.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #wlw #lesbian #queer #pansexual #biseuxal #fanfic

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 5 months

Text

the christmas fair

part four of home for christmas

natasha romanoff x reader

The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.

Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.

Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.

But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?

fluff, friendship, an attempt at humour, cringe of course, brief angst?

wc: 3.1k | part one | part two | part three | part five

Wanda’s arm wrapped itself behind your back as she took her place beside you on the sofa, supplying you with a cup of hot chocolate whilst Monica, Carol, Kamala and Kate sat around you too. It was routine for the group of you to get together after a date and this instance was no different, despite it not being your regular topic of conversation, a debrief of yesterday was a must.

“Not to just jump right into the elephant in the room,” Kamala spoke. “But, she kissed you?”

“I can’t believe her,” Monica sighed. She's been strongly supporting your side since the beginning - as had the others - and she wasn’t giving the redhead the benefit of the doubt. To her, she is the one that broke your heart and nothing else.

“Did you kiss her back?” Kate smirked. She, like Wanda, was willing to see the more optimistic side of the situation. Though they’re completely in your corner, with that also comes their desire for you to be happy. They’d attempt to beat Natasha up if that’s what you asked but they will also give her a little leeway - if that’s what you think she deserves. Your happiness is of the utmost importance to them all and they will support you with whatever choice you make.

“I may have,” you mumbled, hiding your heated cheeks behind your mug.

“Of course you did,” Carol laughed, stretching her leg as far as she could to give your knee a teasing nudge.

“Was it a good kiss?” Kamala asked through a smile. All of your friends seemed to find much amusement in your embarrassment.

“It was- I mean - it was a kiss, y’know?” you bumbled out, really hoping for a slight topic change to cool the way your skin had begun to burn beneath their teasing giggles.

“So it was pretty good, then,” Monica smirked, laughing at the way you tried to hide behind Wanda’s shoulder.

“God, I dunno,” you sighed. “It was good but I don’t know what that means - if it means anything. I don’t know if it changes anything for me and I don’t know if I want it to.”

“That’s okay,” Wanda spoke. Her voice was soft and the epitome of support and one glance at the softened eyes of your friends was enough to make your heart swell.

“Yeah, we’re all here for you - no matter what,” Kamala nodded, receiving hums of agreement around the room.

“We all know she broke your heart,” Monica added. “Whether you admit it or not.” She looked at you with a faux sternness with that, cutting off your murmurings of denial before you could even attempt them. “I, for one, do not like her. I hate her for how she left you but I can be civil-”

“I’m not sure that look you gave her the other night was ‘civil’,” Carol laughed and the woman couldn’t even deny it, she only shrugged with a huff of a laugh.

“She deserved it,” she returned. “My point is, I’m completely on your side. If you want her to go back to New York next week and never come back, I’ll keep her away. If you figure out this mess you’ve got going on and you decide she’s changed - that she’ll fit into your life - I will stick by you.”

“Mhm,” Wanda nodded. “We’re fighting in your corner. This is your life, don’t let anybody else dictate your decisions. It’s about your feelings.”

“I’m sure we could all gang up on her for a fight,” Kamala added, making you all laugh at the clear determination on her face.

“I could finally put my archery classes to good use,” Kate spoke.

“Alright,” you laughed. “I love you all but I’m not sure any of that’s necessary yet. I just - I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never felt so torn, y’know? It’s such a mess right now,” you groaned. “I want your honest opinions. What do I do?”

“Tell her to get back on her high horse in New York,” Monica spoke.

“I say, give her a chance,” Kamala stated.

“Me too,” Kate agreed. “You’ll never know for sure if you don’t explore it all.”

“While I think second chances are nice and all, I say you let us send her packing,” Carol spoke, making you all laugh lightly at the way she mockingly showed off her muscles.

“I think you should give her a chance,” Wanda smiled, she knows you best and she can see that glint in your eye. “But don’t give her a chance for her, do it for you. You deserve to know if she can give you what you deserve. I joke around with the ‘hopeless romantic’ thing but you know it’s just because I wanna see you happy. I’ll be with you every step of the way and I’ll help you pick up the pieces if it doesn’t go how you want it to. But I love you too much to just watch you give up a chance on something that could make you happy.”

“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing thickly at the tears that dared to bubble beneath the surface. “You’re the best friends a girl could ask for, you know that right?”

“Of course we do,” Monica grinned, stepping over to you to pull you into a hug.

She was quickly followed by the remainder of the group, soon barely able to breathe, crushed within five pairs of arms. You’d have it no other way.

“How about we take a night off from the Romanoff situation and go to the fair?” Kate questioned.

—

An hour later, the six of you were fumbling around with skates on your feet, trying your hardest to stay upright on the ice. It was the perfect way to forget about everything burdening you, it was difficult to focus on much else besides the mere act of not falling flat on your face.

Of course, to your luck, Yelena had decided to accompany her sister to the annual town fair right at the most inopportune time. You didn’t notice each other for a while, being fortunate to avoid one another at first. Little did you know, Natasha and her sister had been having a similar afternoon with a conversation surrounding you. She too, was attempting to steer clear for the time being, hoping the pair of you could organise your thoughts a little better before coming face to face again.

But, during an attempt to amuse your friends by separating from the onlooking group to try your hand at some kind of spin that would have them in awe, your body collided with another. The solidity of a leather jacket-clad torse was a relief compared to the frozen ground you’d expected to land on when you stumbled.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you hurried out, instinctively grabbing onto the arms that held you upright. “I- Natasha?”

“Hi,” she smiled. It was an observably awkward upturning of her lips but it was a smile nonetheless. “Fancy bumping into you here,” she laughed. You saw how it turned into a genuine chuckle when you laughed at the comment too.

“It was a graceful fall at least, right?”

“Like a ballerina,” she lied. You both knew you’d almost taken down a couple of other people with you but that wasn’t the point right now - you were practically begging her not to make fun of you. It was almost like before.

“What’re you doing here? I mean, you’re at the fair obviously - but what are you - are you here with Lena?” you stuttered out, regretting the short glance towards your staring friends who failed at hiding their amusement at the scene playing out in front of them.

“Yeah, she dragged me out here,” she laughed. “It’s almost as fun as I remembered.”

“Almost,” you whispered, voicing your thought aloud when you meant to keep it in. She looked at you fondly, remembering the way she’d used to do this all with you and you broke your inquisitive gaze with a clearing of your throat. The silence had lasted a little too long for your liking and Wanda skated over at just a glimpse of eye contact with you.

“Hey, Nat,” she nodded.

“Oh, hi.” She’d clearly forgotten she wasn’t existing in a moment that only the pair of you shared and her cheeks flushed pink as she let go of your arms - neither of you realised you were still holding onto the other.

“Sorry to drag her away but Kamala wants more hot chocolate.”

“Oh- right- yeah,” she nodded. “I’ll see you around?”

“Sure,” you smiled before letting Wanda guide you away.

—

“Okay, scale from one to ten, how awkward was that?” Kate asked you. “It looked like at least an eight from where we were.”

“Surprisingly, I’d give it a six,” you answered before taking a sip of the sweet drink in your paper cup.

“That is a surprise,” Monica returned. She was pleased that it hadn’t resulted in a need for a duel right there and then and that you were smiling bashfully at the thought of it. “I’d have put it at a nine. You literally fell into her, even I was embarrassed.”

“God, don’t make me think about it,” you grumbled. “I saw my life flash in front of my eyes.”

“Anything seeming a little clearer yet?” Wanda asked, bumping her shoulder into yours whilst you made your way over to the ferris wheel.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I’m not sure - I’m hoping to just avoid her for tonight and think about it tomorrow.”

“You do love to procrastinate,” Carol half-joked, as you joined the queue.

A while later, practically shivering in the cold, your breath forming in puffs of white before you, the line had shortened enough for you to make your way onto the ride. Carol paired off with Monica and Kate with Kamala but you had your seat stolen by some queue-jumper you could’ve rugby tackled on the spot.

You shook your head at Wanda just before she went to verbally attack them - you didn’t want to be banned for life.

You waited for the next available seat to make its way to you and felt the freezing metal through your jeans, instantly regretting agreeing to come on this ride at all.

“I can sit somewhere else if you want me to,” a voice rasped in your periphery. Natasha. Her hands were pushed into her pockets as usual and she inched away as though she knew your answer before you uttered it. The relieved grin she gave you when you patted the space next to you almost made you swoon; that smile almost made you forgive her on the spot. God, does she know how much she affects you?

“Of all the ferris wheels in all the towns, you get onto mine,” you smiled, revelling in the laugh she let out at your quotation of a movie you’d shown her years ago.

You let yourselves sit in the quiet as you lifted higher and higher off the ground. It wasn’t so uncomfortable this time. As though you’d both started to untangle the entwined and knotted mess of feelings about each other. Like the tension of a coiled spring beginning to loosen.

Seeing the town from this high up was picturesque; you could pinpoint houses, and places where memories were formed. She pointed out the part of the place you both called home where she’d laughed at you falling off a skateboard until her cheeks hurt. She brought it up for years afterwards and just a gesture of her hand in the direction of the spot was enough to make you gently shove her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she grumbled as the metal of the wheel groaned and you were left stationary in the air, the cold breeze against the tip of your nose from the highest point you could be.

“Oh god,” you sighed, hearing the ride conductor shout up an apology and an approximate of ten minutes until you’d be let down. You laughed at the thought of Wanda stuck beside a stranger she’d taken an instant disliking to.

“Guess we’re trapped for a while,” she breathed, resting her arms on the bar in front of you with her hands fidgeting familiarly.

“Could be worse,” you laughed to ease the tension. “You could be Wanda.”

You nodded your head downwards to where your best friend was suspended in the air, positioning herself so far away from the boy beside her that she was practically falling off. Natasha laughed wholeheartedly at the sight. You both did and it brought up thoughts of the past, how it used to be, which made you think of the fact that she was truly here.

“How come you’re back?” you asked, turning as much as you could to challenge yourself to actually look her in the eye. “Not for the holidays - I mean, you just never come back. What changed?”

“I have to write a book. A kind of Christmas-themed one and, what better place to get inspiration than right here?”

“They got the twenty-first century Scrooge to write a festive children’s book?”

“Oh, shush,” she laughed, poking at your arm at the way you’d faked a gasp at her statement.

“I thought that, maybe, forcing myself to come back here would spur something on inside me, y’know?” Natasha shrugged. “This is my home. The people here gave me the happiest times of my life - the kind of things New York hasn’t given me. I thought maybe, I could find that so-called ‘Christmas magic’ here again.”

“The kind you used to see?”

“Mhm.”

“And have you found it?”

“I think so.”

–

It gave you a lot to think about. You could see that ounce of the old Natasha you knew before, in that time before it all changed. You can see that, perhaps, she truly has changed. Maybe that inner dialogue she was battling with had been defeated. You hadn’t even known it existed but seeing her now you can see that something had hurt her.

You saw the light in her eyes that you’d missed so much and things were beginning to seem that slightest bit clearer. You can’t ignore it all and forgive her, as much as you wish you could, without some form of a true explanation. An apology. A true, heartfelt, clarifying apology. You know you deserve it and now you’re letting yourself see that she deserves to be given the chance to gift you with it.

You’d been bombarded with questions after the shocked look on your friend's faces when they watched Natasha help you up from your seat. Of course, they wanted the gossip of the past twenty minutes.

“I think she’s different,” you mused. “But it’s somehow just as confusing. She seems different but I don’t know if I’m just seeing what I want to see. And then I think, if I actually should forgive her, shouldn’t I have some kind of apology to accept? Oh my god, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“You need to calm down,” Kate stated. “No offence,” she added with a sheepish smile.

“You do,” Wanda nodded with a laugh at the way you rolled your eyes. “You don’t have to figure it all out in one night. Let's just enjoy tonight and we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I-”

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yelena interrupted, sidling up beside you with her arm flinging over your shoulder. She, of course, was not surprised as she had been having the same run-downs from her sister. She was also a lot less merciful and spotted the ‘couples wreath making’ booth nearby and directed you in its general direction before anybody realised.

“Anybody want a go? Winners get a prize,” the man running the event announced as you approached, seemingly hoping to gain a final couple to join the others on the small stage behind him.

“These two do,” the blonde grinned, pushing you and the redhead into him with forceful hands on your backs.

“Oh- no- we’re not-”

“We have our final contestants,” he beamed, not listening to your protests whilst he guided you to your place.

“Yelena, you’re a menace to society,” Wanda uttered from where the group watched the two of you stand awkwardly.

“I’ve gotta get my entertainment from somewhere,” she shrugged with a laugh, finding great enjoyment in the way you fumbled around with the objects on the table to try and make something that resembled a holiday wreath.

“This goes here, right?” Natasha mumbled, attaching various decorations to the hoop in front of you. You only smirked at the innuendo you heard. She didn’t notice.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I mean - I’m not an expert but wreaths usually do have some kind of foliage.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, poking an elbow into your side. Wanda smiled fondly at the sight.

“I don’t like her much but they do look kinda cute together,” Monica whispered to her and she nodded in agreement.

“My sister’s an idiot but she’s not a bad person,” Yelena spoke. “She just needs to be honest, not just with herself but with our little friend up there.”

“I hope they can work it out, for both of their sakes,” Carol added. They all watched on as you laughed with each other and worked easily as you attached ornaments to the masterpiece you’d been working on.

You won, of course, and Natasha braggingly lifted the wreath above her head to show it off.

“A perfect wreath from a perfect couple,” the man smiled and you both returned it uncomfortably.

He handed you a Santa hat before wishing you well.

“You’re joking?” you laughed. “This is the prize?”

“And the wreath, of course.”

“Oh, well that was definitely worth the ten bucks we had to pay,”

“Alright, let’s go,” Natasha chuckled, guiding you towards the group before you actually did get banned for life.

“Carol, you paid for this,” you frowned, holding up the hat defeatedly. Though it was Yelena’s idea, she pushed the payment onto somebody else, as she often does.

“I dunno, I think the entertainment was worth it,” she smirked. Natasha took it from you to pull it onto your head, swiping a piece of hair out of your face with the tips of her fingers gliding over your cheek.

“And you do look pretty cute in it.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, partly in annoyance and partly to disregard the way she made your heart beat aggressively against your ribs.

“Should we head back? I’m freezing,” Kamala asked and, after a just about awkward goodbye, you parted ways for the night.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #au: home for christmas

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Note

I heard request were open and I immediately came here.

A snowy day with dad!Hobie au! Cooking food together! building snowman’s etc!

-💗

This prompt had me in near tears, I love it sm! Thank you for requesting, my love!! (I looked like this the entire time writing it --- 🥹)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mentions, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin Au. FLUFF

A/N: The twins are a little bit older here! I love them sm 🥹

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You and Hobie woke up to freezing temperatures which turned into a blessing in disguise because you two were entangled together on the bed, cuddled comfortably. Legs intertwined, arms looped around each other like a koala. He presses sleepy kisses on your cool cheeks, his excuse? He says he's keeping you warm and away from hypothermia.

The snow falls outside, frosting the windows. Hobie's senses tingle, he stops his barrage of kisses for a moment.

“The gremlins are comin’” he murmurs over your cheek.

“How do you wanna do this? Fake sleep or hide under the bed?” your eyes are half lidded, cool hands splayed under his shirt for warmth.

Sure enough, the soft pitter patter of socked feet runs towards your bedroom. Their giggles waking you up in an instant.

Hobie hums, the vibrations spreading through your face. “Too tired, let's act like we froze from the cold”

“This is why I love you” falling limp, smooching him quickly, you close your eyes once again. Hobie acts as your shield from the anticipated jumping you're about to endure.

The doors burst open, your girls' unmistakable laughter echoes out in your shared bedroom. You hear an ‘oomf’ sound from both sides of the bed, you surmise that they're both having a hard time reaching the top. After some shuffling about, tiny hands and feet crawl over the duvet, their stifled giggles making you lose your act with a tiny smile.

“Shhh” someone on your right shushes the other. “they're still sleeping, Billie”

“They won't be for long!” Thanks to your human shield, you don't get the brunt of Billie’s foot on your stomach. Unfortunately, Hobie gets the full force of five year old strength.

Yet, he stays strong, still faking sleep. Also thanks to his enhanced strength, he barely felt it. But you can't help but cringe for him.

“Mum’s awake!” Mona crawls further up to cup your cheek in her tiny hands. Your daughter gasps, “she's frozen!”

You screech and in turn, Hobie does the exact same thing you do, flailing your arms to envelope each girl in a surprise hug. Mona laughs with her belly, her legs are kicking about, trying to escape your wrath. While Billie yelps before screaming out a “Tickles!” when Hobie's scruff nudges her neck.

“Got a live one here–!” Hobie sputters when he gets a mouthful of Billie's hair. She giggles, bringing her head closer to her dad's face, almost headbutting Hobie.

After a moment of giggles and happy screeches, you and Hobie lay wheezing while the girls are energetic as ever, jumping excitedly on the mattress.

“It's snowing, did you see?!” Billie lands on top of you, her chin laying on your chest comfortably. “Mummy, did you see?”

“I can feel it, Muffin. It's freezing!” you squeeze her tightly, burying your face in her curly hair.

Mona drops gracefully in between you and Hobie, cuddling next to him.

“‘m hungry. What's for breakfast?” She looks up at Hobie with her big eyes, reminiscent of Hobie's exact face when he wants something from you. But for Mona it all comes naturally to her.

“How am I supposed to make breakfast when my hands have fallen off from the cold?” He lifts up his hands tucked inside his pajama sleeves, looking like his hands are nowhere near his arms.

“Daddd!” They simultaneously say while you chuckle.

“Have some sympathy for your dad, his hands are gone!”

Billie plays along, “how are you gonna use your webby now?” You've called Hobie's web shooters as webby since they could talk and now it's stuck in their vocabulary.

“Billie and I could be Spider-Man now, dad” Mona says in between giggles, five year old vocabulary working its magic.

“Yeah!” Billie exclaims.

Hobie turns to you while the girls talk about their plans on how to stop crime together.

“Our girls don't have empathy, what did we do wrong?” He smiles throughout it, moving Mona's head to give you a quick kiss. How could he resist when the light shines directly at your smiling face, lashes kissing your cheeks as you grin widely at his girls? He has to indulge or else he'll burst at the seams

—

After a hearty breakfast, Hobie and Billie decided it's time for a snowman competition. The snow has gotten thick enough that you have to wade through it like mud. So while Hobie’s helping Billie with all her layers, Ramona sits on a bar stool next to you, eyes enthralled by the swirling hot chocolate inside the pot.

“Are you sure you don't want to join them, cheese?” With one hand you grip her shirt so she doesn't fall on the stove, on the other is the wooden spoon you're using to stir the pot.

“Yes, I want hot chocolate” she sniffs at the chocolate smell.

“You can have hot chocolate and play with them”

“I don't like the cold,” she murmurs.

You hear the door creak open and then Billie's excited squealing, a second later you hear a thud, like something or someone fell into a pile of snow, then you hear Hobie's loud laughter.

“That's okay, we'll stay here. Then we'll judge who wins the snowman competition, sounds good?”

She nods, smiling a toothy smile at you. “Can I have the heart marshmallows?”

How could you say no to that face? “Of course,” you nuzzle her soft curls. “Do you want extra milk?”

“Yes please!”

You hear a knocking on the kitchen windows, craning your neck to look, you see Hobie holding Billie up by her armpits, her face is squished on the glass, nose flattened and lips puckered.

That can't be sanitary.

“Hobie, that window isn't clean”

Billie waves at you and her sister, eyes bright and happy. “I drowned in the snow!” she points at a patch of snow, sure enough there's a Billie shaped hole in it. “Can you see, Mony?”

“I can! And mum says that window is dirty!” She grimaces.

“Dad! Mum says the glass is dirty!” She looks below her.

You hear a muffled “Crap!”

Well at least he tried not to swear that hard—

Mona tugs at your sleeve. “What does crap mean? Dad says it a lot”

“Hobart Brown!”

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