#oh damn i really got distracted here huh

[crystalkitty1220]

So i wanna do the colour wheel art challenge but i have no clue which characters to do (except for pink and light blue) so do you have any recommendations?

I don't really know what this challenge is but I'm guessing from context clues that you'll be drawing characters for each color of the color wheel? I don't really know most of the fandoms you're in but Isaac or Drew could work for yellow.

#oh the temptation to say Felix for lime green #i remember at one point i used ctrl-f to find all the times the color green is mentioned in ibvs #and it is *only* mentioned in some kind of relation to Felix #the only other time i can think of a specific color being mentioned is ed's strings. even fresh's colors are just referred to as 'neon'. #oh and todd's hair being red. actually i might just not be remembering the times specific colors are mentioned. #imma go re-check at some point. #oh damn i really got distracted here huh

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 2 of November Paramedic; part 1 is here.)

Steve's honey-sweet eyes, gleaming with confidence, ask 'why don't you take a bite?'

His pink mouth, deliciously curved, wonders 'don't you want a taste?'

His dark chest hair, leading a mouthwatering path down his pants, says 'you know you want to'.

And Eddie does. He really does. He would, if Steve was actually here. Alas, all Eddie has is the calendar photo currently staring at him from where it's propped on Eddie's dresser, and he's not biting into it. It's the only one he's got, you see; he won't be ruining it with bite marks and drool due to his intrusive thoughts.

If he had a copy machine close at hand, though? If he could make as many pictures as he'd possibly want? Oho, watch out, Slobbertown!

It's been one week since Steve the sexy paramedic revealed himself to be a real person and not just a dude in a softcore porn calendar. One week since he Florence Nightingale'd Eddie before vanishing in a flurry of bloody gauze and blinking blue lights, leaving both Eddie and Gareth breathless.

(Though in Gareth's case, it was due to laughing so hard he choked on himself.)

The calendar doesn't do it for him anymore. Don't misunderstand – he still uses it when beating the meat. In fact, it has exclusively become his primary masturbatory aid, and it has served him especially well the past few days. The moment those 48 hours were over and Gareth left, Eddie chucked off his sweatpants and went to, well, Slobbertown. But it's not the same anymore. How could it be, when he knows the real Steve's hair smells like a meadow and his aftershave like lemon and spice? When he's felt the pressure of Steve's fingertips on his jaw? When he's seen the faint scar running down Steve's chin from his mouth? When he can still hear Steve's voice use his name, give him orders, call him 'sir'?

It's impossible. Fuck, just whenever Eddie closes his eyes Steve's face appears, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. Of course, that might have something to do with Eddie already having made himself oh so familiar with Steve's face, and chest, and hands, and… everything else, for the past two years. Jesus damn it, if he knew this was where he'd end up he never would've bought the calendar in the first place.

Groaning, he throws himself back on his bed; then he shouts as his head thumps into the wall. Typical. He rubs at the spot to soothe it. No bump, though it hurts like a bitch. Pain (and suspicion he just aggravated the previous head injury) aside, he's comfortable, thus he sprawls out and stares at the ceiling as planned.

He's been distracted. He knows that because literally everyone has been on his case about it. Gareth gives him smug smiles that have turned alarmingly calculated as the week has passed. Jeff and Marv, having been filled in by Gareth, are rather more amused in a benign way. His boss almost sent him home to recuperate after catching him staring into space for the third time. Uncle Wayne noticed something was off through the phone. And Max has been giving him weird looks.

Ah, little Max. The only person in the complex who doesn't steer clear of him. She doesn't actually know what went down – not completely. She knows he got injured, because she caught him and Gareth as they stumbled home while she was exiting her apartment to toss the trash. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the plaster, and on Eddie's arm that was slung over Gareth's shoulders for support (at Gareth's insistence).

"You got in a fight?" she asked.

With a grin he'd exclaimed, "Battle? You know me better than that! Nay, I did my utmost to escape the violence... but the ruffian got to me regardless."

"Huh. You okay?"

Gareth had rolled his eyes. "He's fine. I mean, listen to him."

"Don't worry about me, Red." Eddie tapped his own head. "This ol' noggin is harder than it looks."

A corner of her mouth twisted up, though if it was in amusement he couldn't tell in the dim hallway. They ought to team up against the super; maybe their combined whining will have him finally fix that broken light bulb.

"Make sure you don't take aspirin or ibuprofen," she said. "It can-"

"Yeah, I know. Paramedic already told me."

"Good. Is our lesson still on?"

"Certainly, m'dear."

And then he'd tipped an imaginary hat, she snorted, and Gareth hauled his ass to bed.

He didn't see Max again until Sunday afternoon, when she came by for their aforementioned weekly guitar lesson. Parking themselves on each end of the couch, his acoustic in her lap, he'd made her play the 'homework' from the previous Sunday. It sounded pretty good. She honestly won't need his help soon – probably doesn't need it now. She understands basic theory and is diligent about practicing. He'd be fine with awarding her temporary custody of the guitar for a while. She insists on coming over, however, claiming she has to be perfect by the time of the next open mic down at Connie's Corner Coffee.

The reason she has to be perfect? Well. Eddie is pretty sure it's to impress her boy. She hasn't confirmed that it's for her boy, or even that she has one, but it totally is and she totally does. He knows this because 1. she becomes flustered and grumpy (grustered? Flumpy?) every time he brings it up, and 2. if she was learning to play for herself he'd be subjected to a lot more Pink Floyd and a lot less Curtis Mayfield.

It's cute, to be honest. Picking up an instrument for a boy you like? That's romantic as fuck. If he hadn't been the Lord of All Losers he would've serenaded tons of boys when he was younger. Hell, he'd do it now, if only there were anyone willing to listen. But he hasn't had as much as a date in ages, and none of his previous attempts at relationships ever reached the 'romantic gestures' stage.

Maybe he should ask Max to set him up with someone. Why not? She probably meets dozens of people every day, at the campus, at the skatepark, wherever else she hangs. If there's anyone who could sort out his disastrous love life, it's Max Mayfield. She's so put together, and she's not even 20 yet. She's got her own place (in a supremely shitty building, but still a place), she's got a man (reluctant as she is to admit it), and she is halfway through her math degree. A fucking math degree, for Christ's sake! Math majors are built for solving problems!

Maybe she could even calculate how many times he'd need to injure himself before he'd meet the one paramedic he wanted to kiss… him better.

It was around that point of his daydreaming that Max shot a hair tie at his forehead and demanded he stop zoning out and correct her hand placement.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing deeper than usual. "Have you been resting?"

"Yes. For the prescribed 48 hours, and then some. I'm fine."

She'd frowned, scrutinizing him with those pale blue eyes. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze like a man. Easier said than done, to be truthful. He likes Max – she's fun, easily the most kickass neighbor he's ever had – but she can be intense. And when she gets her stare on? She's downright creepy.

"I'd prefer to cancel over you fucking up your head more," she at last said, posture stiff and chin jutting. 'Don't lie to me,' is what she meant.

Eddie sighed. "Red… I'm fine. Seriously."

And he was. Physically speaking, at least. Mentally, he'd always been a little off. Part of the patented Munson charm, really.

She must've realized that, because she relaxed, her expression going from 'active bitch face' and back to 'resting'.

"All right. Sorry for being overbearing. It's just." She shrugged a shoulder, gripping the neck of the guitar as it started sliding off her crossed legs. "One of my closest friends is a medical professional. Another one is studying biology. They've been discussing human anatomy and… I guess they've gotten into my head."

Damn his friends for caring. How was he supposed to sell this image of a dark, dangerous, rocker dude if he was constantly misty-eyed from how sweet his buds were to him? He leaned forward to pat her knee.

"I appreciate the concern, unnecessary as it is. But!" He drew himself back and pointed in the air. "We're not postponing! Open mic is less than a month away – you only have so many days left before you'll be on that stage, in front of aaaaall those people… and your beau."

He's certain that if she hadn't still been sorta concerned about his health, she'd have smacked him.

That was Sunday afternoon. Now is Wednesday evening. He is still hung up on Thursday. He doesn't even know why. Yes, he was face-to-face with the hottest guy ever. Sure, that same guy has been the star of his most critically acclaimed fantasies. Indeed, he hasn't gotten laid in eons. Of course, he's pent-up with sexual frustration and yearning for another man's touch.

But still. He's not an animal or a sex-crazed teenager. He's smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this. It's not like he'll ever see Steve again. That'd be so unrealistic.

A knock on his front door reaches his ears. Eddie makes no effort to get up and answer it. He's not expecting anyone – whoever it is will have to return another day.

The knocking turns into a pounding, followed by yelling.

"Eddie! Let me in, asshole, I know you're there!"

Ugh. What does he want? Hasn't he heard of texting?

Eddie drags himself off the bed and toward the door. Yanking it open, he's met by Gareth's self-satisfied visage.

"Good evening," he says, heedless of Eddie’s glare. "I come hither with your solution."

"My solution?" Eddie mutters as he stalks to his couch to crumple into another heap.

Gareth follows him inside. "I have a plan to get your man!"

"What? Who? What?"

"Steve. November-paramedic," Gareth says, like it's obvious, which, what the actual fuck?

"He's not my man?"

"But he could be."

"Gareth, what the fuck-"

He moves to sit up, but Gareth's palm hits him square in the diaphragm and pushes him back down.

"No, listen: you are a terrible patient."

"I'm not-"

"Remember back in high school, when that asshole rear-ended us in the intersection at Hickory and 5th?"

Eddie grimaces. How could he forget? They'd stopped at a red light when a drunken motherfucker plowed into them, sending them careening into the T-junction. One car managed to break before hitting them; another veered only to crash into a fourth car. The result was, for them, whiplash injuries and, for the people who collided, bruises, sprains, and a dislocated joint. It had been the scariest moment of Eddie's life, and the neck pain had been excruciating. That wasted piece of shit was lucky no one died.

He says, "Yeah?"

"You were so snarky with that poor EMT."

"Okay, first off, I was a snot-nosed brat back then-"

"Dude, you were nineteen."

"-and she was rude to me first."

"She was following protocol!" Gareth shakes his head. "The point is that you never follow orders or instructions, not even when a doctor tells you to. But November-Steve? I've never seen you be so pliable."

"I-"

"And after, when I had to babysit you for two fucking days? I expected it to be difficult. But you were so busy sighing and yearning-" he says, ignoring Eddie's indignant sputtering, "-and replaying him tenderly caressing your face with his big, manly hands and holding your gaze with those big, manly eyes-"

"Do you want to fuck him?"

"-that you forgot to complain or be a contrarian about everything." Gareth smiles, sweet as cavities. "It was great. I'd like to recapture that. And if November-Steve is the one to bring it out of you, well!"

Eddie glowers at him. No, really! With the metaphorical thunder clouds swirling over his head and everything! His world has been shook. It is tilted off its axis, and it's his best friend's duty to mock him relentlessly for it. But this? Trying to encourage him? Give him hope? That's going too far.

Gareth notices. Of course he does; curse the heart on Eddie's sleeve. The sickly-sugary smugness evaporates off him, and he takes a seat on the dingy couch seat.

"Eddie," he says with a softness reserved for a select few individuals. "Seriously. You've been all moon-eyed for a week. You've been thinking about him. Really thinking."

Eddie balloons his cheeks and huffs out the air. "Well. If you spend two years jerking it to a guy-"

"Gross."

"-and then he suddenly appears before you, in the flesh? I've been fantasizing about it. He's a fantasy. And when it actually happens, that's…"

He trails off. Gareth knocks their shoulders together.

"He seemed nice."

Eddie scoffs. "I spoke to him for fifteen minutes. Tops."

"Fifteen nice minutes. You haven't dated in ages. Maybe this is a sign?"

Chuckling, Eddie slumps his head onto Gareth's shoulder. They're the wrong heights for it, so it's awkward and strenuous on the neck. He remains.

"You're just looking for another opportunity to embarrass me," he says.

"Embarrass you and improve your life. Like only true friends strive to do."

Eddie hums. "So what's your fucking plan?"

Gareth shifts, turning toward Eddie, but doesn't say anything yet. Glancing up, Eddie is met by a zoomed-in, upside-down view of Gareth's pointy grin, his canines gleaming.

"The university!"

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

Taglist: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround , @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid

No longer adding to the tag list, due to numbers and (hopefully temporary) technical difficulties. Please save or memorize the tag #steddie fic: november paramedic instead; all the parts will be there (unless something goes terribly wrong).

Thank you for reading! 🖤 ☺

Part 3

#no steve this time (he's there in sexy spirit) but you get more gareth AND some max #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #my writing #steddie fic: november paramedic

[loveinhawkins]

Steve thinks he’s doing a good job at hiding it, but then Eddie catches his eye right as he’s limping out of the RV and… huh, maybe not.

Eddie, with panicked urgency—which, in Steve’s opinion, is admittedly sweet but unnecessary—asks if the bites are bothering him again.

“No, dude, it’s nothing,” Steve says. “It’s literally nothing.”

Eddie doesn’t look at all reassured.

Goddamn it, Steve thinks. Better rip off the band aid and hope it’s not too mortifying.

“It’s not the bites. It’s… um. My feet.”

Eddie glances down but there’s nothing to see; as soon he’d entered The War Zone, Steve had crammed his feet into the first pair of combat boots he could find.

“Oh,” Eddie says, the penny dropping. “Oh, shit. Yeah, hang on, just…”

He looks around, humming in thought, then grabs a bottle of water with decisiveness, and yeah, Steve thinks, this is gonna be incredibly mortifying.

But he can’t find a way to wriggle out of it without making the whole thing a way bigger deal than it needs to be—so he ends up sat in the grass, wincing as he pries off his boots.

It is, in a word, gross.

“Don’t know why they’re bugging me so damn much,” Steve says just to fill the silence. He huffs self-effacingly, goes to wiggle his toes before deciding ow, better not and ew, better not. “It’s, like, hardly anything compared to…”

He gestures to the bandage wrapped around him.

“Well, you weren’t walking on your stomach,” Eddie points out.

He pours out water onto some tissues he’s rustled up and gets to work.

Steve keeps waiting for the embarrassment to well and truly set in.

But… it doesn’t.

Eddie doesn’t once make a crack about how awful his feet look.

Instead he launches into a story of how, against his uncle’s sage advice, he’d gone to school in a new pair of boots (his birthday present) without breaking them in first.

It was freshman year, so Eddie’s whole look hadn’t been solidified yet. But he was determined to make it work—stomping around the school (“Were any lunch tables harmed?” Steve asks, and Eddie warmly tells him to shut up), steadfastly ignoring the growing discomfort.

At the end of the day, he’d taken his boots off and surveyed the damage with a melodramatic cry; “Kid, I really don’t know what to tell ya,” Wayne had huffed.

Eddie hams up his whiny, teenaged disgust so that he becomes the butt of the joke, and Steve suddenly feels like he’s watching a magician onstage—except he knows where to look, isn’t fooled by the sleight of hand: Eddie’s dramatics all serve as a distraction from the caked on dirt and blood he steadily cleans off Steve’s skin.

It’s quiet, unassuming. A hidden kindness.

Eddie doesn’t need to be doing this; Steve could quite easily take the bottled water and do it all himself—would probably get it over and done with in a matter of minutes, concealed around the other side of the RV, quick and perfunctory.

But you’re letting him, Steve thinks. Why are you letting him?

Eddie’s hands are cold, a pleasant contrast to the burning sensation all across his feet—honestly, he’d been hoping that so long as he just kept walking, he’d gradually become numb to it.

There’s a loud rip of plastic as a pack of baby wipes are opened. Eddie’s touch is light which soothes some of the sting, at least; he trails off into silence as he works, hissing sympathetically at whatever’s revealed.

“You’ve got a couple cracks,” he says, eyebrows drawn.

Steve gives an over exaggerated sigh. “Give it to me straight, doc. Am I gonna have to chop ‘em off?”

Eddie chuckles, but his concern doesn’t fade away.

“Just here,” he says, pointing, and the tip of his finger brushes against Steve’s heel—Steve tries not to, but he twitches reflexively, and Eddie flashes him an impish grin. “Ticklish?”

“Fuck off,” Steve says, smiling.

He kicks out, stops just short of actually hitting Eddie in the face.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Harrington,” Eddie says through laughter, pushing Steve’s foot away—gently. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

It’s a joke; Steve knows it’s a joke. But—

“You don’t need to do that, man. Robin already knows.”

Eddie stands up and stretches, gives Steve’s ankle a little pat.

“Think you’re all set—woah, wait,” he says as Steve reaches for the combat boots, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, what’s it look like?”

“Harrington. You cannot put those on without socks again, you’re gonna summon my uncle; he’s got, like, a sixth sense about that kinda stuff.”

Eddie’s smile drops a little at that, a flash of melancholy breaking through.

God, you must really miss him, Steve thinks.

“I’m just making do. I don’t have any socks.”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie’s smile returns in full force—puzzled, perhaps just a little fond. “You got me some, remember?”

Eddie retrieves a pair from the RV and, that’s right, Steve had forgotten: he’d bought a whole pack during their first grocery trip, after Eddie had made an offhand comment about feeling cold in the boathouse.

Poor guy, Steve had thought as they walked through The Upside Down. This is cold on a whole new level.

The socks are thick and warm. Steve pulls on the boots, relishing the fact that his toes no longer scream in protest as he does so.

He tightens the laces; Eddie’s sat down opposite him again.

“There. Ready for battle,” Steve says.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over the combat boots, then Steve’s whole get-up—and there’s nothing teasing in his gaze now, as if he’s seeing everything in another light. Like the gravity of it all has just hit him.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Battle.”

“Hey, Eddie. Don’t worry.”

Eddie huffs with a wan smile. “Wow. And just like that, I won’t.”

Steve nudges him with his foot. Gentle. “M’not gonna ruin your handiwork.”

Eddie doesn’t reply.

Steve stands, tries a short walk in place. It’ll work. It has to.

“I’d just do it again,” Eddie says suddenly. “If… I—I wouldn’t mind.”

Steve pauses. Offers Eddie a hand and pulls him up.

“I wouldn’t mind either,” Steve says softly.

And then he lets go of Eddie’s hand.

Standing tall, he starts to round everyone up for the drive back—and wishes them all a future of simple fixes: of superficial cracks, easy to patch up.

#little moments of care ❤️ #pre steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[quixothicc]

just desserts

hobie brown x reader, miguel o’hara x reader (implied)

summary: leave it to the big guy to be so damn obvious. if only it wasn't this fun for hobie to mess with him.

or: hobie exploits miguel’s one weakness for some shits and giggles (but also to stick it to The Man).

cw: fluff but hobie makes some innuendos. jealous!miguel, miguel who can't admit his feelings, hobie who knows this and knows he has more game and takes full advantage of this

You’re talking to Hobie when his attention is captured by something behind you. His gaze shifts as he raises a brow challengingly, mouth pulled into a cocky slant. It’s quick, quick enough that most people wouldn’t catch it, but you’re not most people. Not with your reflexes.

“—And I was—Hobie? Something wrong?”

You’ve got his attention again. “Yeah, luv? Sorry ‘bout that, got somethin’ in my eye.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, and gives you a lazy grin. "Distracted me fro' your beauty for a minute."

You roll your eyes as you continue to tell your tale, Hobie listening to you with the kind of careless intensity that only he could pull off. While his flirtatious comments could be construed as something more, he says them with such a dry wit that it's hardly anything more than friendly. As the the two of you meander down the line of the cafeteria, grabbing whatever food spikes your interest, his arm remains a steady presence around you. Again, you don’t think much of it—Hobie's a touchy guy with his closest friends.

“Ya’ ever wonder 'ow these futuristic blokes come up wit’ some o’ these pop flavors?" he asks you, holding a can of soda in his hand as he languid reads off the label. "‘Sparkling orange cream cider with a 'int of lime...'" He pulls a face. "Sounds mad.”

You laugh. “It’s actually kinda good. Peter recommended it to me last time.”

He looks at you, surprised. “Huh." And then, with a hint of suspicion, he asks, "...Which Peter? Ya' can't trust all ov' their taste buds...”

With his arm around you, Hobie steers the two of you around the cafeteria, and you end up accidentally bumping into the person next to you in line. The two of you continue to chat--that is, until you hear someone clear their throat meaningfully. You glance behind you, unaware of the challenging glean in Hobie's cool gaze.

"Oh, hi, Miguel! I don't think I've ever seen you out here before."

He raises a brow. In his hand is a box of the empanadas he loves so much.

"I do... eat, you know."

Miguel's usual dry and blunt manner of speaking has hardly deterred you before.

"Yeah, but I don't think you really leave that dinky, dark room of yours," you say thoughtfully, to which Hobie snorts next to you. His body shakes with the effort to contain his amusement. Your eyes widen. "I—I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know what you mean," Miguel cuts you off. He jabs the empanada before him with tongs, puncturing its shell. His irritation is palpable. Maybe he's having a bad day? "I..." He sighs heavily, surveying the two of you, his gaze lingering on your shoulder. "Just felt like a change of scenery."

"Or at least I did," he mutters, but you don't quite catch it.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

"'Ey, 'ey. Look wha' we got 'ere." Hobie, the ever keen observer, steers you around Miguel, to direct your attention to today's dessert on the menu. Your eyes widen at the various flavors of cupcakes before you. You fucking love cupcakes.

"Lemme guess," Hobie says. "You're a chocolate kinda gal?" He snags a cupcake for each of you. Just as he hands it to you though, you're distracted by the sound of tongs clattering.

You glance to your right, only for Hobie to end up smearing some of the cupcake's icing across your cheek. You blink in surprise.

"Hey!"

"Oops." An amused smirk stretches Hobie's face. “Made a mess o' yourself, looks like it."

"You're the one who did it!"

Hobie puts his palms up, stating solemnly, "All's wort' it in pursuit of something sweet."

You glower at him, rubbing your cheek. "Did I get it?"

He shakes his head. "Nope." You rub again. "A lit'le to the left. Nope… Is a bit like finding a needle in a 'aystack for you, innit? Lemme help.”

Hobie’s thumb comes up to your cheek, swiping the suspect away. You scrunch your nose up, to which he makes a satisfied noise in his throat.

"Almos' regret doin' that. Ya' pull off the 'cream on ya' face' look."

You roll your eyes at the obvious innuendo, smacking his chest. “Hobie. Not in public!”

He shrugs unapologetically.

CRCKK.

The sound of cardboard crumpling meets your ears. The both of you turn around.

“Ay, chingados,” Miguel curses at his crushed box, meat and veggie filling from his empanadas splayed across the ground. He kicks the box away, before slamming his hand onto the counter. Hunched over, a hand tensely massaging his brow as he mutters, “Maldito sea. Estoy harto de ver esta mierda amorosa."

You raise a brow. You think you hear Hobie mutter something to the effect of, "Stickin' it to the big guy one step a' a time," and you're certainly not sure what that means. Miguel stops only when he notices you and everyone in the cafeteria watching him. He straightens up, and clears his throat before summoning his AI.

“Lyla, just have someone bring food to my room,” he grumbles.

"Roger that," she says.

And then Miguel is stalking away before either of you know it.

You watch his retreating back curiously. "I wonder what that was about..." you think aloud.

“No idea,” Hobie drawls. Of course, it's a lie, or as Hobie likes to think of it, a covert truth. He salutes in Miguel's direction.

Leave it to the big guy to be so damn obvious. If only it wasn't this fun to mess with him. And... Hobie glances down at you. If only you realized how much power you held over him.

Both of them, really.

—

translations:

estoy harto de ver esta mierda amorosa = i'm sick of seeing all this lovey-dovey shit

the other phrases are just a bunch of cursing lmao

#hobie x reader #Miguel x reader #hobie brown x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv x reader #atsv imagine #lmao this was fun to write #I was a little iffy about making hobie too flirt tho so I tried to tone it down hoduhodushfd

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

can you write something w vessel praising reader like super lovey sex 🥺

❝sweet little bunny❞

➵ “you’re doing so good for me” —❤︎

pairing: vessel x gn!reader

theme: smut ❣︎

a/n: ofc i can ♡︎ the vessel stans have really flocked to my page now huh? hope you enjoy !!

cw: penetration. pet names. praise kink. no gendered language for reader’s body.

┅✦┅

oh my god, fluffy sex with vessel??? yes please holy shit??

this man is intimidating as fuck, but goddamn can he be an absolute sweetheart in the sheets

whenever he’s in the mood for something more vanilla, he’s a lot more quiet

short breaths and gasps, letting out long, deep sighs when he cums, whispering your name like a sacred prayer whenever he’s close to climaxing

goddamn this man sounds heavenly when he’s making you feel good

vessel’s voice is also a lot more soothing, with a twinge of poetic flair to his words whenever he’s praising you

always being so gentle with you <33 we love to see it

he always puts your pleasure first too. drilling his cock into you in such a sensual manner that has you seeing stars

and you can still feel the intimacy and affection from him, it’s such a surreal experience

“that’s it, baby. you’re taking me so well…”

you could only softly whine as you felt vessel’s hard shaft move deep inside of you. his movements were slow and sensual, but his rhythm had you on edge, and writhing underneath his grasp, begging for more.

“there… i got you.. fuck you look so good like this, taking my cock like the good little bunny you are.” he hissed out in pure euphoria, his hips pistoning inside of your hole in a way that had you seeing stars.

your wrists were being held tightly to the mattress by vessel, and you could only squirm in a lustrous need as he moved inside you. “vess… vess please..”

“shhh, it’s okay… i’m right here..” vessel whispered in a reassuring manner, dipping his head between the space in your neck to affectionately nip at your soft skin, leaving love marks as he trailed down.

his hands moved from your wrists to your hands, his fingers interlocking with yours, squeezing your hands with a loving grasp.

that simple action was enough to make you whimper in pure ecstasy, it was almost enough to distract you from how his dick was buried deep within your love canal.

vessel lived for this kind of pleasure.

this was the kind of love he loved to give to you.

he wouldn’t be this affectionate and attentive to anyone else but you. if it were anyone else, he couldn’t give less of a damn… but you… oh you were just a different story.

your presence was just so captivating, entrancing vessel in a dreamlike state every time he made love to you. you were his drug, so sweet and addicting.

and he was going to show that to you no matter what.

“shit, baby. you’re so tight around me… fuck.. i love it so much..” he moaned softly into your neck, his hips moving slightly faster. “i love you so much.”

his sweet words had you moaning like crazy. you couldn’t help it, the way he spoke to you like you were some kind of ancient deity was enough to get your legs shaking.

“f-fuck… vessel.. please..”

“please what, honey? tell me… tell me what you want.”

looking through the slits of vessel’s artistic mask, you could see nothing but pure love and lust clouding his eyes, and that just made the arousal in your core grow stronger.

“please.. harder..” you begged breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper.

vessel cursed silently at your words, and his hips rolled into you slowly, hitting a spot that had your legs spasming.

he smiled softly, and bent down to capture your lips in a loving kiss, before whispering. “of course, darling.”

and he moved even faster.

#sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token smut #vessel smut #vessel x you #vessel x reader #vessel sleep token #smut fanfiction #smutty drabble #smutty fanfiction #smut headcanons #sleep token fanfic #sleep token x reader #kosmos ficlets

[i-cant-sing]

Reader: Hey Kit Kat. Guess what?

Katsuki: What?

Reader: Shoto’s father never hugged him… isn’t that sad.

Katsuki: Yes I suppose that is rather sad but Half and Half can hug himself during his breaks. Now let’s go!

I am just thinking about how easy it would be to make Katsuki flustered. Like you kiss him once and he'll be thinking about it for DAYSSS. So much so, he can't concentrate on anything. He's standing over the stove, eyes glazed over as he replays the romantic moment that happened a week ago and the food just burns and you have to walk over and hurriedly turn off the stove.

Y/n: KATSUKI!

Katsuki, glazed eyes clearing: huh? Oh shit-

Y/n: ugh! You burned all the food! What are we gonna feed the guests now?

Katsuki, pissed: well its your fault!

Y/n: HOW???? yOure the one who was standing over the stove!

Katsuki, grabs your face: BECAUSE OF YOUR KISS- BECAUSE OF YOU, I CANT FUCKING CONCENTRATE ON ANYTHING!

Y/n, also grabbing his face and smooshing his cheeks: HOW IS IT MY FAULT THAT YOURE SO FUCKING CUTE! AND I DIDNT COMPLAIN WHEN U GAVE ME A BIRTHMARK ON MY NECK!

Katsuki: THATS A FUCKING HICKEY!

Y/n: THATS NOT WHAT I TOLD MY PARENTS! WHO BY THE WAY WILL BE COMING OVER IN A FEW MINUTES AND WE HAVE NOTHING TO FEED THEM FOR DINNER!

Katsuki, squeezing your cheeks: SHUT UP! WE CAN ORDER IN FOOD!

Y/n: it's just.... I've been bragging to mom about how good of a cook you are and how well you've been feeding me after we got married and she didn't really believe me, so-

Katsuki, frowns: don't u fucking worry, I'll make her something good. I'll get started on the food again-

Y/n: thanks, Kit Kat. Oh and Katsuki?

Katsuki, turning around: hm?

Y/n, kisses him againa and runs away again giggling mischievously knowing damn well that Katsuki will be distracted again and ruin dinner again:

Katsuki:

Katsuki, slamming the pot against the wall: FUCK! Y/N GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE-!

Later at dinner, yall ordered take out and Rei and Enji are just sitting there with u two looking red:

Rei, picking at her food: so... takeout? For my daughter, that's what you've been feeding her? Chemically impure junk?

Y/n: mom, no-

Enji, narrowing his eyes: y/n? What's that on your neck?

Y/n, hiding her hickey while Katsuki snickers: birthmarks- multiple birthmarks dad-

Enji: they weren't there before.

Y/n: i- *narrows her eyes at Katsuki who is smirking* I think it's cause of all the takeout Katsuki has been ordering me. God knows what's in this, right mom? I mean, this could just be an allergic reaction-

Enji and Rei, with murder in their eyes:

Katsuki, gulps: i-

#yandere bnha #bnha headcanons #yandere mha #bnha imagines #yandere katsuki bakugo #yandere katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x reader

[smalls-words]

Memories

Summary: Early morning training sessions are fun, right?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (close friends/'something' by nature and history), Avengers x Reader (accquaintances).

Warnings: Nothing over the top but some dark concepts such as mental confusion/brainwashing.

It was a good idea. At first. Maybe in hindsight, the Avengers should have thought about letting you train with them after only leaving the Red Room for four months.

You were stood across the mat from Natasha, the only opponent who could really match you. Steve had specifically designed today's training challenge that way; to make you push yourself to the maximum.

"Ready, Romanoff?" You grinned, watching her take her stance with a smirk on her face.

"Ready as ever."

When Steve blew his whistle, unlike the others, you two were trapped in a circling dance. Neither attacked, neither lunged, nor did you do much of anything - you analysed.

Natasha watched how your arms moved when you breathed. You watched how her legs moved her around in the circular pattern.

Then, you struck.

She glanced you away, using your momentum against you to try and trip you but she missed since you did a little jump. You turned and faced her just in time to block a kick to your side, hitting it back down to the floor with the base of your palm.

"Harder, Y/N. You know I can take more." She chuckled, going to kick you again but you caught her leg and spun her around.

She tried to grab your waist with her lower legs but you twisted out of her grip. Hands up, ready for anything as you faced her again.

You'd already built up a sweat beforehand, small beads on your forehead that you weren't distracted enough by to render a wipe. You didn't have time, either.

Natasha went again, going low this time, but you anticipated and stepped back like a fencer's retreat. Then you came back, hoping to elbow her ribs, but she caught you and pinned you down.

"Ha. Got you." She grinned. "You always fall for that."

You let out a huff of annoyance. "You don't have to say it every time."

"Go again!" Steve distracted the two of you.

Natasha climbed off and you stood, brushing off the sweat from your brow as you got into your readying stance again.

"Come on, Silanova - don't hold back."

Oh, how the turn tables.

You went again at her, this time with a certain tenacity she liked. This was the Y/N she liked to spar with, the one who didn't care much for injuries. The one who withstood the bruises, the mat burns, the carpet burns, everything.

"Xорошая маленькая Bдова. (Good little Widow.)" She teased.

You let out a huff through your nose, annoyed.

Natasha pinned you to the ground again with her thigh move, chuckling after. "Oh come on - you practically let me have that. Get up, let's go again."

You got to your feet, kicking off your shoes and socks to the side. Natasha raised an eyebrow before chuckling. "If you think the stench of your feet is going to help you, you're wrong - doing your laundry on my days has built me some immunity."

Strange... you didn't reply to that.

You put your hands up, ready to go again. Though... you didn't attack first. Natasha had to make the first move.

Every move you made was calculated. Every piece of force, every angle. Nothing was by accident.

"Damn, Y/N, alright. Who's pissed you off this time, huh?" She chuckled as you went to kick her face, something Steve had said was a no-no before training.

"Y/N - warning one. Don't." There he went. Ever the diligent soldier.

Natasha looked at you, confused at your unchanging expression and absence of apology. "Y/N?"

You kicked again at her side, making her block it but the force still pushed her arm into her side. "Jesus, Y/N, take it down a notch. This is training, not an actual battle."

Then, she saw your eyes. Open, yet empty.

"Y/N. Speak." She said firmly, confused before you threw three punches which she had to quickly defend.

"Y/N, answer me. Stop playing with me here."

She quickly pulled you into her and locked your arms against your chest. "Snap out of it, right now."

You pushed her out, kicking her stomach hard enough to wind her. You spun, ready to one-two kick-punch her in the face which would be enough to knock her out.

"Y/N, enough!" Steve growled, raising his voice and capturing the attention of everyone in the room.

You glanced over at him, his expression stressing. Natasha went to her knees, trying to catch her breath as she looked at you.

"Hey, hey. Don't... Don't look at him. Look at me." She coughed out, standing after a few seconds.

"Natasha, she's..." Wanda tried to explain but the expert Widow just put her hand up to silence her.

Your head cocked to the side, terrifying her when your playful smile didn't match it.

"Y/N... You're not there. You're here, with me." She cooed, taking a few steps towards you. "Take a few breaths now, krasivaya (beautiful)."

In a flurry of movement, your hand was wrapped around Natasha's hand, the slam of her body hitting the mats echoing around the gym. "No!" Wanda's magic reacted, shooting out of her like a missile and seeking you out until you smacked into the opposing wall.

Natasha coughed as she regained her lost air, staring up at the ceiling whilst others watched the carnage. You laid in an unconscious mess of sweat, the wall having a considerably large crack in it.

"Maximoff. A little overkill there, but well done." Steve coached before jogging over to Natasha, checking on her.

"Nat. Nat, are you alright?" He asked.

"Y/N. Get... Y/N." She said through a few breaths.

He looked up, noticing your groans as you stirred. He looked at his fellow Avengers, people he knew and trusted, and then compared them to you.

You were nothing compared to his family.

"Get her in a containment cell. Now." He ordered but Natasha let out a huff of frustration.

"She's scared. Do not put her in a cell."

Natasha stood, shuffling over to you. She had a bruise showing on her leg from your harsh kick and smaller yet more frequent bruises were forming on her neck. "Hey. Hey, Y/N. Look at me."

You hazily looked around, confused as you were on the floor and far away from the mats. "Where... What... How am I... the floor?" You glanced down, seeing your sweat-soaked tank top sticking to you.

"Oh gods..."

You shuffled away, struggling to as your shoulder had dislocated upon impact with the wall.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, no. Come back here, krasivaya. It's okay." Natasha cooed, watching painfully as tears began to well in your eyes.

"I thought I had it under control. You said I could do it. I-I had control this very morning, what the hell happened?!" You said, fear seeping into your words one syllable at a time.

"You... Y/N, it's okay, but-"

"You lost control. That's what." Steve said firmly, folding his arms in an annoyed stance.

"I... I lost it?" You murmured, confused.

Natasha sighed, your attention going back to her. Then you saw it - the damage done to her neck. It was getting clearer by the second. Dark semi-circles were dug into her skin, clearly marked around her airways in deadly manner.

"I... I did that?" You muttered gravely, holding your dislocated arm but hardly feeling the pain as your ears began to ring.

"You did, yes, but it's okay. Just stay calm for me, detka, okay? Let me fix your shoulder, Y/N." Natasha tried to keep you calm.

You flinched. Of all the people in the room, you - the damager, the cause, the very problem - flinched.

"No. No, get- get away from me." You stammered, shuffling away until you stood on two legs and bolted out of the gymnasium.

"Y/N, wait!" She called out, trying to catch up to you but the damage you'd done had made her compromised.

"Leave her be for now. We'll check up on her later." Steve murmured. "You need medical attention, Natasha. That whip onto the mat would not have been good for your head."

Natasha nodded and walked with Wanda to the medical office with a heavy heart.

It wasn't your fault...

A/N: Wow, it has been a long time since I wrote something on this account.

#smalls words #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x female!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader

[deepouterspacecandy]

Whispering Pines

I plan for this to be a two-part piece, at least, as there are many mushy and maybe even spicy things planned for it—but today is my birthday and I’ll be away from my computer for a few days to celebrate. I really hope you enjoy reading it in the meantime. Big fluff, 18+ only.

In a world where infected roam the earth and surviving has become a daily battle, life is as good as it can be. Perfectly fine, by your standards, until Abigail Anderson entered the picture.

From the moment you saw her shredding all competition in the gun range, she stirred something inside of you that now clouds your mind and distracts you from almost everything else.

The term “crush” makes sense to you now, with the overwhelming burden of longing and unseen affection absolutely crushing you into miniscule particles of dust, drifting hopelessly at her feet.

Your infatuation has pushed you into a range of activities you wouldn’t have pursued otherwise. While it has undoubtedly made you a more capable soldier, it is unfortunate that the attention your accolades have received is not something you can reciprocate, even if you wanted to.

It’s not just her striking smile, or her perfect blend of rugged and soft features—not the sheer strength she exudes when she ambles through the chow hall in her tank top, cargo pants so snug across her muscular thighs it makes your knees weak.

It’s just her. A beautiful amalgamation of countless quirks and habits that, for some wicked reason, forces your senses to impossible heights when you desperately need them to subside.

“Are you hearing me right now?”

“Shit, sorry,” you say. “Go again.”

You lower your head apologetically, Manny’s face expressing absolute scandal when he notices the broad-shouldered goddess that diverted your focus from him. His very best friend and comrade, naturally.

When he waggles his brows at you and calls Abby over, your stomach swoops so low that the rapid beating of your heart contradicts the notion of standing still.

“Manny, don’t—Manny! Oh, Jesus Christ.”

With a brief, calculating glance at your fidgeting form, he meets Abby halfway, abandoning you in line.

As you lose focus on your surroundings, panic draws emphasis to the position of your hands. You become acutely aware, contemplating whether they should rest in your pocket or if that would come across as too deliberately cool.

You avoid watching them talk amongst themselves, the air thick with secrecy, because obviously if you don’t see her, she can’t see you and then you can vanish without a trace, escaping to a haven that grants respite anywhere but here in the damn burrito queue.

When you reach the front of the line, you snatch up your lunch with such speed that the person serving you may have mistaken your haste for a bad mood as you swiftly exit through the nearest doors and into the hallway.

“I can’t believe you,” Manny pants, trying to catch his breath as you fumble with your overcrowded keyring. “The first woman who’s ever tried to escape my charm.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you snicker. Metal jingles aggressively as you struggle to enter your apartment. “God, what’s wrong with this damn thing?”

In a display of cunning, Manny unveils a spare key, undoubtedly gained through some act of thievery, and shoves you aside. With a kick, he swings the door open and stretches his arm above your head to hold it for you.

“Do I even want to know?” you ask, gesturing at the stolen key.

“Probably not,” he chuckles.

He rests against your kitchen counter and, realizing you won’t ask him to go, hops onto the hard surface. He devours his meal, one enormous chomp at a time, legs casually swinging as you wander through your suite, trying to regain your appetite.

“So,” Manny says, balling up the wrapper before tossing it at your head. “You’ve got it bad for my girl, huh?”

“You’re actually the worst, do you know that?” you say. “I hope you never get laid again.”

Laughing uncontrollably, Manny tries to catch the messy wrapper you toss back at him, causing him to nearly tumble off the counter.

“That’s what you get, sucker!” you exclaim. “Looks like you won’t be making the softball team, after all.”

With a snort, Manny jumps down from the counter and starts rummaging through your mini fridge, in search of something to wash down his lunch.

“We’ll see after this weekend who is the real sucker.”

“What does that mean?”

With a voracious gulp, he drains the last drops of your juice rations, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He’s finally seeking retribution for all the snacks of his that you’ve been helping yourself to.

“Manny, what did you do?” you groan.

An abrupt knock at your door startles you, as Manny’s knowing look turns your mouth bone-dry.

“I’ll go wash up. You better get that,” he says.

With a leisurely pace, he saunters down the hall, his footsteps creating a gentle rhythm as he heads towards your bathroom and out of sight.

Thunderous knocks continue to echo through the room, causing your thoughts to scramble. You smooth out your shirt and fuss with your hair, taking a few calming breaths before flinging open the door.

A pair of bright, curious blue eyes greet you on the other side, setting your cheeks on fire. Swallowing hard, you stand there speechless, desperately grasping for something significant to say. Knowing what Manny told her would provide some helpful context, but that shithead has left you in the lurch twice today.

Abby sizes you up, her attractive face adorned with a growing smirk that spotlights her confidence.

“Hi,” she says with a warm smile, extending her hand for a friendly handshake. “I’m Abby.”

“Hey, yeah—I’ve noticed. I know,” you blurt, feeling yourself internally recoil at the gibberish spilling from you like a waterfall.

As you both stand there, the handshake lingering for an unusually long time, Abby’s amusement at your expense only seems to intensify. As she patiently waits for you to decide when it ends, her eyes crinkle cheerfully at the edges. By the time you pull away, your whole body feels sweat dappled and flushed.

Manny shouts from somewhere inside the apartment, sending your shoulders straight to your ears. “Are you going to invite her in already—where are your manners?”

His outburst earns a gratuitous eye roll from Abby, who then tilts her head with empathy towards you.

“Would—you like to come in?” you stammer.

“Yeah,” she says. “That’d be great.”

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

A few times each year, Abby takes charge of organizing events for the younger generations on the FOB. She leads a series of survival challenges—scavenger hunts, fishing and hunting, target practice, crafting competitions, herb, and plant identification—to help keep morale up and to preserve strength in the community.

Although you haven’t taken part, you’ve heard positive feedback from soldiers and their families on base. It’s a good thing too, since Manny has kindly stepped in and volunteered you to help Abby with the next one.

“I know it sounds corny, but it really helps build teamwork and keep everyone active,” Abby explains, referring to a relay race she wants to set up outside the walls.

“No, not at all—it sounds awesome,” you say.

“I was going to go solo, but if you want to come along, I’d appreciate the extra hands,” she says. I usually camp for a few days and build everything myself. It’ll be nice to have some company out there.”

Abby’s fingers find a loose thread that is spindling out from a tear on her jeans, and she starts to fiddle with it. Manny clears his throat, prompting you to join the conversation rather than staring at her like she’s an enchanting extraterrestrial.

“I love camping!” you squeak, putting Manny on the verge of collapsing with laughter as he hears the sheer excitement in your voice.

It wouldn’t be completely terrible if the couch swallowed you whole, but despite your nerves, Abby does a decent job of making you feel relaxed in her presence.

“Yeah? Do you have a tent and everything?”

It’s clear that the universe is conspiring to make you look like a fool, so of course you don’t have camping gear of your own. To be honest, you’ve always been thankful for the opportunity to choose your work while off base because every time you observe your unit setting up camp, it reminds you of how complex it all seems.

Your inclination is to prioritize keeping everyone fed and using your expertise in weaponry and stealth. If you attempted to pitch a tent with only tarps and some rope, someone would inevitably wake up in a puddle.

“I’m not so great with the tent erecting stuff,” you say, mentally cuffing yourself the minute you hear yourself speak.

You’ve never uttered the word erecting in your life before now.

You avoid glancing at Manny’s face, aware that he’s eagerly anticipating the chance to mercilessly ridicule you. With a sugary, lopsided smile, Abby boldly extends her middle finger towards her best friend. You can bet that he is making all sorts of faces behind your back.

“We can share mine,” Abby offers. “If that’s cool with you.”

“Sure, that works for me,” you say with a nod, trying like hell to stay composed against the heat climbing your neck.

Abby bites her cheek to suppress a smile.

“Good, it’s all settled,” Manny says, slapping your back. “Just you and Abby, all alone in the great outdoors.”

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

“I’m going to kill him,” you grumble.

Upon hearing the news of Manny finally pairing you and Abby together, Nora is giddier than you’ve ever seen her. While assembling a medical kit for your camp out, she gives you a cheeky look.

“That girl needs her shit rocked,” she says, bouncing her flawlessly manicured brows. “If you want my vote, I say you send her home to us limping.”

“Oh, my god! I’m never going to get my face to calm down.”

You press your palms to your forehead, desperate for a cold cloth.

Nora’s bright, warm giggles fill the room, matching the kind-heartedness she emits.

“There’s no way Abby isn’t dreading this,” you say, passing a roll of gauze to Nora’s outstretched hands. “You should’ve been there—it was like I forgot how to talk or something. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Well, if I know her as well as I think I do,” Nora says with a grin. “She probably found your mess pretty damn cute.”

“You think so?”

“Totally. She digs the dorky ones,” she shrugs, handing you the fully stocked medical kit. “Just be real with her, okay? Everything with Owen did a number on her. I’d hate to have to kick your ass when you get back.”

“I don’t think this is that kind of trip,” you say. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Leaning against the desk, Nora twirls a pen in her hands, lost in thought. The Salt Lake Crew, as you understand it, formed an unbreakable bond, strengthened by the shared experiences and obstacles they encountered while growing up together side by side. Though some challenges they faced have become distant tales, her face still carries the etching of the profoundness of their connection.

“I’m going to tell you something because I trust you, but please don’t make me regret it.”

The sound of the pen tapping against Nora’s thigh is quick and incessant as she gathers her thoughts. A small puff of air escapes her as she studies you intently from a distance.

“Fuck it,” she says, her lean hands gripping the tabletop. “Abby gets these—bad dreams, okay? Not all the time, but when she does, it can be rough. It’s why she goes out there alone.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

“Yeah. So, it’s a pretty big deal that she’s bringing you along this time,” Nora explains. “Please be good to her.”

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

The two of you venture outside the gates in the early morning, the scorching heat prickling your neck. The drought-stricken summer is the hottest you can remember in ages, dry grass crunching beneath your boots as you trek on.

You bring your shirt up to swipe at your sweaty face, drawing Abby’s gaze as it travels down your body.

This time, it’s her face that flushes with a rosy hue as she realizes you caught her stealing glances.

“It’s cool of you to help me out,” Abby says, redirecting attention. “Even though it’s boiling out here.”

“I thought about bailing, I’m not gonna lie,” you chuckle.

The heat and Abby’s quick pace are leaving you out of breath, but you’re determined to keep up.

“Why didn’t you?” she asks.

You reflect on Nora’s words and how she pleaded with you to treat Abby honourably. Her advice was to be authentic, and even though vulnerability can be frightening, you’re going to bite the bullet.

“I’ve wanted to get to know you for a while,” you admit. With the sun piercing through the trees, blinding your vision, you tightly clutch the straps of your backpack and hang your head. “I hope that’s not weird.”

Abby stops in front of you, and it momentarily obscures the bright rays of sunlight, offering you instant relief. The freckles sprinkled along her sun-kissed skin become more prominent, enhancing her natural beauty. She’s so pretty it makes your chest ache, and your thoughts run wild.

Kneeling, she hunts through her bag and pulls out a crumpled ball cap. When she stands up and carefully places it over your head, making all the necessary adjustments, flutters stir between your ribs.

“This hat is weird,” Abby says, her soft smile contrasting with her words.

Before continuing the journey, she pauses to fix a few messy tendrils of your hair, her touch lingering behind your ear for a split second. It’s enough to overlook the blazing temperature outside, mistakenly convincing you it’s only a sensation within your body.

“What about you—where’s yours?” you ask.

Despite her attempt to hide it, her smile is unmistakable as she tilts her head away.

“It looks better on you.”

“I highly doubt the accuracy of that statement,” you quip.

If you had known she was such a sweetheart behind closed doors, you might’ve summoned the courage to approach her differently. Life is brief, and it dawns on you how much time you’ve squandered in fear.

Amused, Abby shakes her head and then gestures for you to follow her. You would willingly accompany her to the deepest depths of the earth if she wanted. Fortunately, you’re already experiencing a preview of that, with the summer heat threatening to sear you like a salmon steak.

Abby jogs ahead of you, her eyes hooked on something beyond the treeline. You match her speed, eager to discover what has caught her interest.

She leads you to a lake, with its surface as clear as crystal, mirroring the vibrant emerald hues of the surrounding trees. Wildflowers bloom at the water’s edge, cradled between pebbles, their petals a delicate splatter of yellow and purple. A family of ducks glide gracefully across the surface, leaving ripples in their wake.

You wish you had something to offer them.

“Please tell me we’re going swimming,” you say, spellbound by the lush oasis and the promise of a refreshing dip. “I haven’t been to the lake for years.”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Abby says, beaming at you. “Have you ever gone skinny dipping?”

Her teeth graze anxiously over her bottom lip, examining you—her watchful eyes appearing filled with hope that she didn’t unintentionally cross a boundary.

“Only in my bathtub,” you say with a nervous giggle. “But I guess that doesn’t really count.”

“You’re a total dork,” Abby teases. “It’s kind of growing on me.”

“I’ll take it,” you say, delighting in the way she impishly scrunches her nose at you. “So, are we doing this or what?”

“You first,” she says, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she flicks at the brim of your hat.

When you toss it aside, Abby lifts her shirt up and over her head, balling it up to pitch on top of her bag. Her smooth, honey-blonde braid sways between her exposed shoulder blades as she widens her stance, unfastening her leather belt. Her back is a landscape of tight, defined muscles that leave you feeling dizzy.

Abby’s gaze meets yours as she looks back, a trace of wonder dancing in her eyes.

“Like what you see?” she asks.

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby

[jaemified]

TAKING ME HIGH (ANGEL)

“fuck. you really couldnt wait an hour?”

☆ pairing ; dior employee minghao x flight attendant fem reader

☆ genre ; smut (minors dni!!), porn w plot, est relationship

☆ warnings ; swearing, smoking, oral (m receiving)((giving head under the table)), handjob, haos mean, readers bratty, praise kink if ya squint, degrading, pet names (baby, pretty girl, angel, sweet girl, pretty baby, brat, slut), hair pulling

☆ wordcount ; 2.0k

☆ synopsis ; after being away from your boyfriend for almost a literal week thanks to your job, you want nothing more than him in every possible way. but when he finds himself picking his games over you, you come to a compromise; sneaking under the table while hes distracted.

READ BELOW THE CUT

it wasnt like your boyfriend didnt spoil you.

i mean, you were pretty fucking spoiled considering he was one of diors top employees. he always made sure to bring you home a ‘small’ gift coming out of his bonus after a successful sale at work.

and by small, he means one of the most expensive perfumes or shoes he knows youd love.

of course you were grateful for the gifts and all, it wasnt like it was one sided seeing as you always brought him back some luxury brand when you took part in flights across the world BUT, all you really wanted was his attention.

youre his perfect angel, you both knew that. but no amount of gifts can satisfy how much you craved him and his touch after a long 7 days without him.

finally, you were coming home. not that you were really gone that long. but when you’re a flight attendant for 10 different 12 hour long flights, its without a doubt you’ll be tired beyond belief.

you were so excited to see minghao, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with him in your warm bed.

that was, until you called him at least.

you realized you wanted way more.

you facetimed minghao as you stepped into your taxi on the way to your apartment complex, plugging your earbuds into your phone.

“hi baby. im so excited to see you! im about a half hour away.”

“me too, i bet you did so good at work. i got a surprise waiting for you. where are you? driving?” he mumbled, seeming distracted.

“im in a taxi, ill put it on my card though. what are you up to? you sound distracted. could you turn on your cam for me?”

“huh? oh yeah no problem, sorry. i just- damn it! wonwoo, get mingyu! hes right behind you!” minghao shouted, startling you as his loud voice rang through your ears.

you sighed, of course hes playing games.

“is this better?” he asked with a sweet but slightly confused tone.

there he was, your boyfriend. you couldnt even believe he was yours. he wasnt even doing anything, just sitting there with his phone propped up as he yelled at his computer.

“y/n?”

“huh? oh sorry.. you look..”

“great? i know.” he chuckled.

great was an understatement. hes heavenly. with his black fitted tank top, his sunglasses resting on top of his black cap.

you pressed your thighs together at the way his muscles flexed whenever he gripped his mouse.

minghao glanced over at you, smirking lazily as he lit up a cigarette he pulled from his desk drawer.

“smoking again?”

“coulda smoked with you if you were already here.”

“im not a stoner like you. its occasional.”

“isnt today an occasion?”

“...”

you both kept it short, with you being the one to hang up seeing as you were in semi public and totally not because you were growing more and more horny seeing minghao in that stupid tank top.

you made sure to tip the driver before you had rushed to the entrance of the building, barely able to wait any longer to see minghao (amongst other things).

you opened your door to your shared bedroom, and there he was.

“hey baby, how was work?” he asked half minded as he barely turned to notice you.

“it was so damn tiring. missed you.” you mumbled, walking over to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving a peck on his cheek.

“yeah missed you too sweet girl. fuck- chan! oh my god, revive me or i swear i wont buy you food for the rest of the month.”

“i thought itd be us today?” you pouted.

“it is, angel. whatever you want pretty baby. just give me a few minutes yeah?”

and so you waited,

and waited.

and waited some more

it felt like an eternity had passed (it was barely over an hour) yet you were growing needier by the second watching the way his muscles flexed, and the way his voice sounded, or especially the way he’d groan and throw his head back whenever he lost.

‘id kill to see him like that while i was doing something else..’ you mumbled

until,

a lightbulb went off in your head

slowly, you made your way to minghaos desk, pecking his soft lips before crawling under the table to kneel in front of him.

“what are you doing angel?” he asked with a warning tone.

“nothing. dont mind me.” you hummed as you reached out to untie the drawstrings on his sweatpants.

“y/n- god. just keep it down wont you?” he whispered looking down at you, then back at his computer screen as he saw a new game was starting.

you smiled to yourself knowing you were getting what you wanted, for the most part.

you pulled down his sweatpants, pressing a kiss on minghaos inner thigh, mumbling a ‘thank you’ as he lifted up his hips to make it easier for you remove the grey piece of clothing.

you kissed up from his knee, all the way up to his bulge before rubbing your thumb over his clothed tip, where a wet patch began to grow.

minghao brought one hand down to your head, gripping your hair. “stop teasing and just take it out already.” he muttered as he brought your face closer to him.

“i thought it was anything i wanted?” you mocked.

he only rolled his eyes and released his grip on your hair to return back to his keyboard.

you pull down his boxers, sighing in contentment as a drop of precum hits your cheek.

slowly, you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around and swallowing what leaked out his slit.

you focused most of your attention on his tip knowing how sensitive he was before going down and taking as much as you could, feeling him deep in your throat.

minghao bit back a choked moan, you were able to feel how his body stiffened up.

“what? yeah im good. i just slammed my hand on my desk.” he brushed it off to his friends.

then, you noticed how hard he was trying to not get caught when you were hardly doing anything. so you wanted to try something — see how far you could go before he snaps.

you bob your head up and down his length, running your hand wherever your mouth couldnt reach.

seeing how he wasnt reacting as much anymore, you slowly pull off his dick. that was, up until you felt your boyfriends tight grip on your hair, moving you the way he wants you.

he held your head still as he fucked up into your mouth, letting out occasional low whimpers.

“hao- seriously, you seem so distracted like we might as well just kick you out the party.” mingyu joked.

“shut up gyu you arent even on our team.”

noticing the conversation between him and his friends, you thought youd stop for a few seconds just to take a breather, before he grips your hair harshly to keep you still, chuckling at how tears formed in the corners of your eyes when he started to thrust his hips up harder against the back of your throat.

“hes kinda right though, you keep dying twice every other round and spend most of your time just standing in the corner.” wonwoo spoke up before everyone else in the team muttered in agreement.

“whatever. im muting, hold on.”

he typed something into his keyboard before removing his headset, and looking down at you.

he stops his movements and releases your hair when you look up at him, his hard dick still resting in your warm mouth.

“what are we gonna do with you, huh sweet angel?”

you whined, rubbing your thighs together before pulling off him and replacing your movements with your hand, stroking him softly, giving him a squeeze.

“god- youre such a fucking brat.” he groaned as you sped up your pace. “fuck- you really couldnt wait an hour?”

“cant. missed you too much. need you so, so badly..” you moaned as you watched the amount of precum leaking from his tip, lowering your head to lick it up.

“yeah? youre an impatient slut huh? couldnt wait for my cock? is that it?” he scoffed.

minghao takes one more puff of the joint he lit earlier before putting it out and throwing away the bud, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling.

he puts his hand over yours, stopping your wrist before whispering in your ear,

“if you dont make me cum in 5 minutes, youre not cumming at all.”

#kpop imagines #fanfic #jaemified #svt fluff #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smau #svt fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt the8 #minghao smau #svt minghao #the8 fanfic #minghao smut #seventeen smut #svt scenarios #minghao x reader #xu minghao #minghao #the8 x reader #the8 fluff #the8 scenarios #the8 smut #svt imagines #svt smut #svt #svt x reader #seventeen fluff

[lovebugism]

summer themed request you say?

hmmm what about going out camping with steve for the first time!

I imagine he tries his best to be as prepared as possible, maybe even a little stressed out if things don't go exactly according to plan meanwhile reader is so excited about it all

thanks for ur request lovely! hope you like it!! — the one where boyfriend!steve patches up ditzy!reader after a fall (1.2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“We’ve only been out here an hour, and you’re already bleeding,” Steve grouses as he wraps gauze around the weeping scrape on your thigh.

He’s not upset at you, really — more so at the stick that all but stabbed you when you fell on it. He’s just happy he remembered to pack the first aid kit.

You shift on the uncomfortable boulder he’s got you sitting on even though he keeps telling you to sit still. You can’t help it. You can’t stop looking over your shoulder and squinting up the steep hill you fell from. “I almost made it all the way up,” you mumble, halfway to yourself.

Steve scoffs from where he’s crouched beside you. “Yeah. Almost.”

“It’s not my fault!” you defend with a halfhearted pout. “It was that stupid tree branch… Sorry.”

He wants to grumble about how much you’re moving, but a laugh spills from his mouth instead. He tucks the edge of the gauze into your bandage and smooths a wide palm over your thigh. His amber eyes glimmer with honey when he looks at you. “Who are you apologizing to, babe?”

“The tree root,” you murmur, embarrassed but trying real hard not to be. Your sheepish eyes flit back and forth between the hand that rests on your thigh and the gaze that sparkles at you. “I called it stupid. And I didn’t mean it…”

“Ah,” Steve hums in response, nodding as he smiles. “Right.”

He isn’t grinning so wide because he thinks it’s funny. Well, he does, but that’s only because he thinks you’re so damn cute. You’re always so gentle in your way. Sometimes, he thinks you feel everything everyone else feels. You’re never unkind because it would mean being unkind to yourself. You’re tender with everyone — every thing.

His smile grows when he watches you look over your shoulder again. You squint up the dizzying edge of the bumpy hill that knocked you off your feet. You’re not scared of it like a normal person might be. It made you bleed, but you would argue that the ground only kissed you.

“Do you think they got too far away?” you ask without looking at him.

“Definitely,” Steve nods with a scrunched nose, even though he can’t know that for sure. He just doesn’t want you running up it again. He’s scared he won’t be able to catch you like he did the first time, and that you’ll come out with a lot worse than a scrape. He isn’t sure if he could take more than that. Patching you up as your eyes glazed over with unshed tears was enough to break his heart.

“They’re probably long gone by now, honey.”

You turn back to him, beaming despite the throbbing in your thigh. There’s a twinkle that dances in your eye, brighter than the brightest damn star in the galaxy — Serious or whatever the hell Dustin called it. You’re your own sun, vivid enough to light up a thousand universes.

“They were cute, though, huh?”

Steve nods with pinched brows like the answer’s obvious. “Oh, totally.”

“I’ve never seen a family of deer before,” you confess, a bit like a child telling a barely hidden secret. You’re rambling before either of you realize it. “Like, I’ve seen big deer before, and I’ve seen baby deer, but I’ve never seen a momma deer and all her baby deer together, you know?”

“Well, how do you know it was the mom?” Steve challenges halfheartedly. “Maybe it was the dad.”

“‘Cause it didn’t have antlers. And female deer don’t have antlers, Stevie. Duh.”

“Right,” Steve concedes with a nod. 

His knees ache when he rises to full height again. His muscles are tender from crouching so long. His sneakers dig into the tall grass of the trailside as he stands above you.

A smile tugs at his pink mouth when you get distracted again, glancing over your shoulder at the same hill that got you into this mess. Your brows are scrunched, and your eyes are squinted in a vague sort of determination to hike it again.

He shakes his head and brings his palm to your chin. His gentle fingers are warm as they guide your attention back to his. You blink owlishly up at him, not realizing you’d drifted off. “What?” you hum innocently.

“You know what,” he insists, lip quirked in a knowing smile. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart.”

“But I was so close,” you grieve in a whine. “And I still have that whole bag of trail mix you gave me when we set up the tent! I could’ve gotten to pet them if I just got a little bit closer!”

“Maybe, but I don’t want you climbing up there again, alright?” Steve tells you, a bit more firm in his kindness so you’ll really listen to him. He stays soft with you, though, grinning down at you while his thumb rubs a dirt mark off your chin. “You’re lucky I half-assed caught you the first time. You really coulda gotten heart, sweetheart.”

You beam up at him, leaning more intently into his palm. “Yeah. I’m real lucky you caught me when I fell for you, Stevie. Both times, actually.”

Despite the boy’s fluttering heart, he squints down at you. “Alright. Don’t get cute. I’m still mad at you.”

“Wait… Really?” you murmur, brows pinched in a childlike sense of horror. You can’t stand thinking that Steve would ever be unhappy with you — even if you do stupid stuff sometimes.

“No,” the boy assures with a swift shake of his head. “Not really. I just… I wish you’d be more careful, you know?”

You nod up at him, firm and smiling. “I’ll be careful.”

“Promise?” the boy presses. His brows raise as he tilts his chin to his chest. He puts his hands on his sides and cocks his hip. “I don’t wanna spend this entire weekend having to bandage any more scrapes, honey. I don’t think my poor heart could take it.”

“Pinky promise,” you tell him, holding your fist out towards him with the smaller digit pointing up.

Steve wraps his own around yours. And, upon your insistence that it must be sealed with a kiss, he bends at the waist to press his lips to your mouth. He feels your smile contort against him, bashful as you confess, “That was super sweet, Stevie, but I meant we had to kiss our thumbs.”

The boy scoffs in response. He mumbles vaguely about not knowing the pinky promise etiquette before abiding you anyway. 

He feels lucky when he manages to convince you to organize the tent. You get distracted with sleeping bags and lanterns and other miscellaneous supplies. Steve gathers sticks for a fire, knowing he’s got you occupied for at least half an hour.

But the sun is slowly starting to set. He knows you’ll be on the hunt for cool bugs come sundown. 

He also knows he’s happy to patch up your scrapes for the rest of his life. Well, maybe not happy, exactly — just so full of love for you that taking care of you is second nature to him. He can’t imagine spending his life doing anything else.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x ditzy!reader #st drabbles #stevie drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

[luckylocus]

mungrove first meet

Figures that the first interesting person Billy meets in this town is the local drug dealer. Presumed drug dealer, maybe retired drug dealer? Well that's what he's here to find out. He just wants a break from this place, with its stupidly boring people and lack of things to do. A house party of some fellow high schooler is the most interesting thing he's seen since they arrived last week and when he asked when the next ones going to happen, the people around him told him this one was an exception. Cause it was Halloween. If that was the best party they can muster up Billy's future possibilities for entertainment are looking rather bleak.

When the guys from the team described Eddie Munson they made him sound like some kind of loser, nerd, pariah. Yet Billy's first impression is just a regular metal head. And fuck, that would mean there is at least one person with a decant taste in music around. They also called him various things ranging from menace to a devil worshiper. If the people around here really think listening to metal music means you are evil Billy sees tough times ahead for his remaining time in this shithole before he can jump the ship and head back to California.

The weirdest thing the guy did was smile a bit too wide. And not wear a jacket in october. Now that doesn’t bode well for the temperatures to come. Shit, he really needs some distraction as soon as possible or he might just go insane.

Billys sits himself opposite the other and damn the bench is cold as well. Slightly moist also. He really hates this shithole.

“You still selling?” he asks. 

The guy stares at him with intense dark eyes, still smiling. “Oh yeah definitely.” Munson smiles even wider. “But if I sell to you, that solely depends on you, new kid.”

Kid. Jesus Christ. Maybe the guys on the team were described him accurately after all. “What's that supposed to mean?” He demands.

“Easy. Flattery does work on me. If you act with basic decency you get what you want for the regular price. Be nice to me and get a big discount. You keep acting like a disrespectful asshat and you’re not gonna get anything at all.” 

Huh. Unexpected. Tommy H said this guy is a rude asshole. But Billy could totally see this being an eye for an eye kinda deal Munsons got going. And Billy does understand the fun in pushing people to do shit they do not want to do. Dude is the most compelling person he’s interacted with in weeks. 

Billy also heard some very specific rumors about the guy and it helps that he's better looking then most of the cows in this town even with their layers of makeup on. He leans his head a bit to the side and smiles. If pretending to be nice will get him weed for cheap and puts him on the good side of the local drug dealer he can swallow his pride for one conversation.

#mungrove #billy hargrove/eddie munson

[burnthoneydrops]

can you write another jaime tartt imagine with a his girlfriend borrowing one of his headbands?

Tickle Fight (j.t. x gn!reader)

pairing: jamie tartt x gn!reader

word count: 678

warnings: language?

a/n: ahh! another jamie tartt request coming at you! i ended up making this one gender neutral unintentionally cause nothing really came up while i was writing it about it being a girlfriend specifically (which was kinda cool). hope you enjoy!!

You’re cleaning up the water that spilled on the bathroom counter from you washing your face when Jamie calls out from the bedroom. “Babe?”

“Yeah?” You hang the towel back on the hook and take note of the fact that it sounds like he’s rummaging around for something. 

“Have you seen my headband?” 

“Which one darling? You have about seven million,” you comment as you apply moisturiser. 

“The one I was using at training yesterday, it’s slightly scuffed at the corners,” he says as he closes one of the drawers. 

“Nope, I don’t think I’ve seen that one. Not since yesterday anyway,” it’s not like you were totally staring at it in the mirror or anything. 

“Are you sure? Cause I could have sworn I put it on my nightstand but-” he comes around to the bathroom doorway and stops when he sees you. “What have you got there?” 

You put the moisturiser container down as you quickly swipe the headband off your head, gripping it behind your back. “Nothing”. 

“Oh no, you can’t hide from me now, I’ve seen it. How dare you!” 

“Jamie no, I swear, I didn’t know it was yours,” you try to save yourself, already knowing where this is going. 

“Oh, uh-huh, totally believe that,” he darts one arm to grab the headband from behind you, but you move to the side. “If you’ve got nothing to hide, then why can’t I see your hands?” 

“Listen, love, it’s not that serious,” he darts out his other arm, causing you to move to the other side. 

“Damn babe, with reaction speed like that, we should get you out on the pitch”. You smile, thinking you’ve distracted him long enough for you to sneak past him and out of the bathroom, but he doesn’t budge, blocking the doorway. “Now, let’s try this again. Have you seen my headband?” He raises an eyebrow, smiling slightly. 

“Nope,” you don’t even think, wanting to see how long he’ll hold this up. 

“Alright then, you leave me no choice,” he quickly wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting you off the floor and carrying you over his shoulder back into the bedroom. 

“No Jamie!” you laugh, “put me down!” 

“Nope, not happening babe. You lie, you have to deal with the consequences”. He lays you down on the bed, and you raise your hands so the headband is now over your head. “Aha! Would you like to hand it over now?” 

“Never!” You’re laughing like a little kid. 

“Fine, have it your way,” he smirks before leaning in to tickle you, running his quick fingers up and down your sides. Your legs kick his thighs, trying to get him to stop nonverbally as you can’t breath from how much you’re laughing. 

“Jamie, Jamie please!” You finally get out after a quick breath. 

“No headband, no stopping,” he carries on. 

“Fine!” you fling your arms forward, “here’s your stupid headband!” 

Jamie grabs it, striking a victorious pose, holding the headband in the air. “Aha! Victory is mine at last!” 

You roll your eyes and scoff, “you’re just lucky it looks good on you”. 

“Oh you think it looks good on me huh?” He questions as he pushes his hair back with it. 

“No! Don’t get all cocky now-” 

“Too late, you already said it,” Jamie once again grabs your waist, but this time he leans all his weight forward so he falls on top of you. “You think I’m hot”. 

“Jesus Christ you’re heavy, get off of me!” You shoot back, though it’s muffled by Jamie’s shoulder. 

“Just admit it babe, you can’t get enough of this,” he replies, planting a kiss on your cheek. 

“Fine, you’re hot or whatever”. 

“Now, was that so hard?” Jamie questions as he puts all his weight on his arms, pushing himself up and off of you. 

You flip him off, rolling over to the other side of the bed as Jamie falls back down to his previous position and cuddles up behind you. He may be dramatic, but you love him for it

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x gn!reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #phil dunster #ted lasso imagines #jamie tartt imagines #afc richmond

[miffysrambles]

Hi! I have a request, but feel free not to write it!^^

I also dont know if you have already wrote something like this so sorry if you have! But could you possibly, mayhaps, do a Macaque and Wukong (Separate) x reader where it's THAT time of the month for the reader and she's just in a lot of pain?

Wukong and Macaque with an S/O on Their Period

Wukong:

Since he is a monkey, he kinda freaked out the first time when he smelled blood on you when he walked through the door.

“Did anybody hurt ya peaches? Just give me the word and I’ll take care of it…” He held you by the shoulders as he furrowed his brow, the thought of you hurt made the anger rise in his chest. 

Of course, you explained to him what was going on as you lay in a fetal position, clutching your stomach on the couch. 

Wukong doesn’t really understand it at first, to be honest.

If it’s unpleasant, just stop having one?

Wukong…

After you explain to him you can’t control it and that’s not how it works, he’s more informed about the pain it leaves you in. 

However, it takes some time for him to fully wrap his head around the concept. 

After all, he wasn’t around mortals for many MANY years.

But don’t worry, that doesn’t mean he thinks you’re overdramatic! He can tell by the smell and the way you act you are genuinely in pain. 

Between the way your moods are different and the groaning as you two cuddle, he wished he could take the pain away from you.

You had to deal with this every month?

Damn, he admires you so much to be honest.

As mentioned before, you two cuddle twice as much when you’re on your period and that’s saying a lot considering you two cuddle quite often. 

Will rub your back and/or stomach (if you allow him to) as he kisses your forehead.

Of course, he has all your favorite snacks and drinks ready next to you guys so you can just take it easy!

"You just lay here in my arms peaches, forget about everything while ya rest."

Will even share his peach chips like the generous and oh-so-handsome boyfriend he is.

Praise him please.

Macaque:

Like Wukong, he was caught off guard when he smelled blood on you after you messaged him to come over. 

He was already planning murder in his head before you could even question why he was looking at you so intently.

“Where are they sugarplum… Who hurt you?...”

…Huh?

“You’re bleeding… Who hurt you?” His nose scrunched, twitching with fury.

Ohhhh!

After you explained to him what was actually going on, a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

Unlike Wukong however, he was familiar with periods as he lived in the city and was around humans more often. 

Be prepared to get treated like a princess during your period.

You want food? Sit right there while he goes and gets you takeout along with your favorite snacks.

Need something hot to press against your aching abdomen? He’s already heating a water bottle on the stove for you with some painkillers which he totally paid for. 

Don’t you dare worry about anything right now, you just relax and let him take care of everything.

Don’t worry about mood outbursts as well, he knows your hormones are out of wack during that time.

Your favorite part of your period is when he lays your head in his lap and plays with your hair as you both lay in bed while the TV plays in the background.

Of course, he does it for you all the time, but his fingers running through your hair are just extra soothing and distracts from the pain in your uterus. 

Smiles down at you as he mumbles praises to you, 

“Look at how pretty you are right now. How did I get so lucky, huh?”

“You did get lucky, don’t forget it.”

He laughs at your playful response, nodding as he chuckled some more.

“You got it sweet cheeks.”

#ask #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk wukong #lmk wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk sun wukong x reader #lego monkie kid wukong #lego monkie kid sun wukong #lego monkie kid sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #lmk macaque #lmk macaque x reader #lego monkie kid macaque #lego monkie kid macaque x reader #lmk six eared macaque #lmk six eared macaque x reader #macaque x reader #six eared macaque x reader

[thebigoblin]

dumb & dumber

tags: Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Failwolf Derek Hale, Failhuman Stiles Stilinski, is that a tag? it should be actually, Implied Sexual Content, Possessive Derek Hale, Attempt at Humor, Failwolf Betas, they're all just dumb tbh

"You know, you're kind of the worst," he says this with a pout on his face, the television in front of him blinking back his own face at him. He sorta looks cute with a pout. Huh.

Beside him, the couch dips with the weight of his boyfriend. An arm snakes up along the back of the couch, and he moves forward before that arm and his shoulders can make contact. The huff he gets at his pettiness has him scoffing right back.

"You're being petty."

"And you're an asshole. What's new?"

Another huff. A sigh. He stares forward, resolute.

"Stiles, please." Nope. He is not giving in. He deserves to be upset! "Baby," and oh no.

Stiles turns towards his left, and sees the forlorn look on Derek's face. His eyes are searching Stiles', likely trying to impart how unhappy he is, and how much he wants Stiles' forgiveness.

Stiles might have turned around to actually have a conversation, but hey, he's still got the upper hand here. When Derek reaches out to hold his hand, Stiles takes his wayward limbs towards himself and crosses his arms. Derek isn't happy, his nostrils flaring, but hey, Stiles isn't happy, either.

"Why are you so angry at me?"

Stiles instantly points a finger at his dumb boyfriend, wagging it at that dumb gorgeous face to punctuate his point, "Oh ho ho, don't you play the dumb boyfriend card with me! I wish I could tell Lydia she's right and that all men, no matter the age, suck at being a good boyfriend. But welp! I can't, can I? Because even now, after months of us having been together, I cannot tell people I have a boyfriend! Nobody in the fucking pack knows who you are to me, and you know what Erica has been planning, huh? Huh?"

Derek blinks his dumb, gorgeous eyes at him. He has been staring at these eyes for counting on four months now, but he still can't pinpoint what colors they are. Are they blue? Green? Hazel with gold flecks in them?

Fuck. He is getting distracted. He once again wags his finger at Derek's face, who, this time around, wraps his big, rough arms around it and pulls Stiles forward until Stiles stumbles right onto Derek's lap, and really, why is the universe so unfair? Why is Derek in a barely there wife-beater and grey sweats?

"You know what I am to you, Stiles."

Stiles resolutely stares at Derek's chest. His hands are gripped tight in Derek's, but Derek lets one of his hands go free to grab at his chin, forcing him to look up at the eyes that reflect the early morning sun in a deep, beautiful forest.

"Baby, I am yours."

"But not to the world. To them, you're a single, hot, in much need of a date Alpha werewolf. You're not mine in their eyes, Der."

His heart doesn't waver at the truth, but his chemosignals must change because Derek leans down to rub their noses together, dragging his down to Stiles' neck, scenting him.

Claiming him, in a way.

"If Erica is planning a date for me, she's not competent as a wolf. I might not have told them we are dating, but you smelling much more like us should be a clue."

Stiles noses his way down from Derek's nose to his neck, bites at the junction between it and shoulders just to be a little shit. Derek arches under him, and it has Derek's dick, from under the damned grey sweats, rubbing a delicious friction against Stiles' ass.

"We smell good, huh, Alpha?" He could say more, but Derek is already panting like he cannot take it any more, and hey, that is lips on his own and he can't really speak now, can he?

Derek kisses him with passion, pushes him down back on the couch so he is on top of Stiles.

"Erica needs to learn how to use her fucking nose. You smell like mine," Derek's growl has Stiles instantly wanting to take off his clothes and present to him, down on all fours and ready to blackout in bliss for hours, but.

Stiles pushes at Derek's chest so there's space between them, and asks, a bit breathless, "Why haven't we just told them?"

"You're a fucking tease. I'm going to ruin you once this conversation is over, understand?"

Stiles stares back, wide-eyed, pupils evidently dark. Licks his lips. Nods.

Derek grabs his hair and wrenches him in for a deep kiss before letting go, putting space between them.

They don't speak for a few minutes, trying to get back to some semblance of control. Once they are, Derek speaks.

"I haven't told anyone... because I forgot."

If this weren't Derek, and he wasn't Stiles, he would have been offended. Because what the fuck? But he is Stiles, and this is Derek, so.

"You figured everyone would use their super-sniffers?" Derek nods. "Except you also forgot not everyone is a werewolf, and that even those with super-sniffers are idiots. They would first figure out how to stop a bus with failing brakes from crashing by jumping in front of it rather than using their wolf strength to well, pull the bus Superman style."

"Yes, I'm aware my pack is brave but stupid. Especially because their leader is here with me."

"Hey!"

"Then why didn't you tell them?"

Stiles opens his mouth. Closes it. Scratches his head, his hair. Eyes fixed on the TV again, he mumbles, "I thought you didn't want to."

Derek takes his hand and points it at himself with a raised eyebrow. "Me? The one who has been scenting you extensively and making you wear butt-plugs? Me?"

His cheeks color with embarrassment. "Alright! We are both idiots. Got it."

"Truly made for each other." Derek again uses Stiles' hand to pull him forward, right until Stiles stis on Derek's lap. Again. Except this time Derek is already working to make Stiles' jeans dissappear. "Now, tell me about this date Erica has planned for me while you warm my cock with your pretty hole, okay, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha." Oh, coming to the Loft in a fit of anger/sadness was the best course of action today.

And Stiles is definitely going to pilfer that fancy-pants restaurant Erica has reserved for Derek's blind date with one of her college friends for a date for them.

And then he's going to be fucking annoying about calling Derek his, just like he is sure Derek is going to be insufferable about making it clear that Stiles is his in return.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #sterek fics #sh.writesonmain #wrote this on monday and cleaned this up today #fun fact: did this while waiting for my turn during the recording of group presentations hehe #this week is so hectic #so glad this is the 2nd last week of sem!!!

[a-small-tired-lonely-potato]

Elizabeth having growing pains in her tatas once she gets pregnant with Tristan and trying not to complain while out with the sins but heaving a little and crossing her arms to hold herself.

Diane: Hmm? What's wrong Princess?

Meliodas: You know you don't have to call her that anymore right? And besides, she's not even a princess anymor-

Diane: SHUUUUSSSSSHHHH Captain, her bestie is talking. What's wrong?

Elizabeth: I-It's nothing, j-just some pain.

Diane: Oh, is he kicking already?

Elizabeth: No. Well, yes, but that's, uhhh, not really what it is.

Diane: Hmm? Then wha-

King: Here you go, princess, this tea should help with the growing pains, and don't worry, its completely safe for the baby.

Elizabeth: Oh!? Uh, thank you King, how did you-

King: Ha, you've been distracted by it since you got here, I read hearts remember?

Elizabeth: Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't want to bother anyone.

King: It's not a bother! I remember how hard growing pains could be, so don't even worry.

Meliodas: Oof, was it this bad with Diane?

Diane: Actually, no, mine stayed pretty much the same size. And when they did grow it wasn't that bad.

King: No, Diane was perfectly fine. I'm talking about me.

Meliodas: ... Huh?

Ban: *Whips his head around so fast his neck makes a crack noise that echoes like a gunshot* HUH!?

King: Yeah, when I first grew those damn things it was so painful it basically decided my gender for me, haha.

Elaine: Oh please, you were still undecided even while growing them, you only stuck with your choice after you met Diane. You're terrible with making decisions, you take forever, Sin of Sloth indeed.

King: Hey! I didn't see you choosing yours either! Not even after you met Ban! So what's up with that!?

Elaine: I was taking my time so I could be sure, you were just lazy.

King: HOW DARE-

Ban & Meliodas:

And that was how they found out about the Fairy Gender not existing until they want it to.

Later~

Gowther: So what happens if one never decides to stick with one? Do they get one selected randomly?

King: Oh God no, no they just have both.

Gowther: Both?

King: Or neither. Whichever they choose.

Gowther: Fascinating.

King: Yeah, Helbram had both, and Fairy King Gloxinia decided to forgo it. Ha, getting stuck with only One gender, that's funny Gowther, your humor has gotten way better.

Elizabeth: That's how it is for humans.

King: ... Huh?

Elizabeth: We just have the one we're born with. That's all we really get. From what I remember, trying to change it doesn't really end well, I think that's what got me killed once.

King, horrified: Oh my God.

Elizabeth: Yeah, burning at the stake sucked.

#me crawling out of the woodworks to poat this shit: HELLÕ DÂRLÍNGß!!! #nnt #4kota #four knights of the apocalypse #seven deadly sins #ban #meliodas #elizabeth #gowther #diane #Jericho: yeah being a girl sucks. #Elaine: Then... just change it??? Why do you keep it if you don't like it?? Weird #Jericho: ????? #Elaine #Jericho #king discovers human gender is and is horrified

[deadahhmf]

-♠︎Luffy, Sanji🥰,Zoro(Monster Trio) with a (black) gn reader who has thick thighs(they like to play with em)

♠︎A/n: I need smth on here💀 and I've got thick thigh insecurities rn😔I'm so emo rn

♠︎Luffy

•to be honest he was probably annoying the hell out of you and you just needed to have him distracted with anything so he could just calm the hell down.

•I mean he wouldn't back down to it of course as he would most likely have a nice time messing with your thighs

•I feel as if it'll calm his hyper ass down, or even if he is feeling stressed himself.

•I have the huge feeling he'll fall asleep on them(which is almost all the damn time) so expect drool.

"Ahhh, I've been waiting for this!" Luffy exclaimed as he laid his head down on your thighs.

You sighed out of tiredness yourself as you let your fingers play through Luffy's hair. "Long day Luffy?" "Mhm." You hum to yourself,

it was suprising for Luffy to have a 'long day' considering he causes them most of the time, but I guess there is a first time for everything.

"(y/n), you don't mind if I take a nap on here right?" He said as he looked up at you. You smile, giving him a slight nod as he made himself more comfortable.

"So squishy.."

♠︎Zoro

•He'll accidentally and purposefully do it.

•When it's purposful he'll just want to do it because it feels nice.

•I honestly think he was hesitant about it at first but got used to it when you said it was okay.

•so once he gets used to it out of instinct he'll just put his hands on your thighs and keep em there

•When it's accidental I think he'll just need somewhere to place his hands, especially if they're cold, he's gonna warm em up one way or another

You had been sitting down waiting for the rest of the crew the borrow something they said they needed from this shop they had hear of

Hearing a bunch of foot steps and voices get closer, you look up from what you were doing seeing the crew walk up to the ship, while Zoro instantly went to you.

He sat down right next to you while you cuddled into him slightly enjoying the silence with eachother.

A few moments passed as you feel Zoro slightly shuffle himself in a position where his hand was between you thighs, when I shiver went down your spine

And boy were his hands hella cold.

"DAMN! Nigga why the hell are your hands so cold!? Stop touching me, your gonna turn me into some damn ice!" Zoro rolls his eyes,

"Your just being dramatic they aren't that cold."

"Nigga get ya hands offa me."

♠︎Sanji🥰🥰😍😍

•oh this poor baby..

•Like Zoro I'm sure he'd be hesitant about it at first but then slowly get used to it if you said it was okay

•Mans cannot keep hishands off of them, he would probably worship them like they were the main existence of his life

•of course he loves you but he just really loves your thighs especially since you let him touch them when he pleases.

"Sanji, are you gonna do it or not?" You rolled your eyes out of impatience. He's been hovering his hands Iverson your thighs for the past five minutes.

You let him get the chance to touch them because over the past week, he's been making googly eyes at them and it just got to the point where everyone noticed.

So, you had confronted him about it, your first question being if he'd like your thighs better if he got to touch them.

He had tried to deny that he had been staring at them, but it was painfuly obvious.

" 'cmon Sanji, you've been making heart eyes at them for the past week, go ahead." He gulped down and spit that lingered in his throat as he set his hands down.

"Good, now just squeeze em a little, if you'd like of course I'm not rushing." A smirk appeard on your face as you found it quit funny on how nervous he was.

Sanji did as you told slowly squeezing his hands around the plush skin that slightly popped out from your shorts.

"Feels nice huh?"

"Uh-huh. I never thought it's feel this good, they're so plush and fluffy like it feels so nice."

"I wanna be here forever.."

Thought this would be a lil cute @gaybitchfx @rome-alone @bloodyfennec @lostsomewhereinthegarden

#one piece x gn reader #black male reader #male reader #one piece x male reader #one piece headcanons #thick thighed reader #sfw #zoro x male reader #zoro x reader #zoro x black reader #zoro x gn reader #zoro x black male reader #zoro x gn black reader #luffy x reader #luffy x gn reader #luffy x black reader #luffy x gn black reader #luffy x black male reader #sanji x male reader #sanji x gn reader #sanji x black reader #sanji x black male reader #sanji x black gn reader