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kentosbabes · 11 months

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CEO Toji who hires you as his personal assistant as soon as you step through his office doors. As soon as he looks up at you his breath hitches, you're wearing a blouse that exposes the top of the black lace bra you wear underneath, and you keep pulling down the bottom of your skirt that stops mid-thigh. Your glasses are pushed up to your nose as you look at him so innocently through the lenses.

CEO Toji who doesn't waste any time before saying "You're hired". His rough hand finds you back as he guides you through the glass doors and into your new office, which joins with his. He shows you the ropes of what he wants from you, keeping him on schedule, talking to clients, and completing overall admin tasks etc.

CEO Toji who now can't wait to come to work even though he doesn't show it. As soon as he walks through the front doors of the building, you hand him his morning coffee and go through his schedule for the day with a bright smile on your face. He just smirks down at you watching as you practically have to run to catch up to him as he takes big steps compared to your much smaller ones.

CEO Toji who adores how flustered you get when he calls you pet names. "I have the report you asked for, sir" The words leave your mouth so innocently, but he can't help the bulge in his trousers that begins to make itself present. "thank you pretty girl" his words making your cheeks flush red as you hand him over the papers.

CEO Toji who cant help but stare at you. The view from his desk provides the perfect view of you as you work. He can't hold back the thoughts that plague his mind every time he looks at you. His eyes trail from the curls that fall down your back to the way your back curves and your ass sticks out as you type on your computer. Your glasses falling down your nose and your red lips moving as you pick up the phone.

CEO Toji who hasn't felt this way since his ex-wife was around. He hates the feeling he gets when he sees you talking to Gojo the owner of one of his rival companies. He can't take his eyes off the way your hand grabs onto Gojo's shoulder as you laugh at his jokes, and how Gojo places a soft kiss on your knuckle as he leaves your office flashing a wink to Toji before leaving.

CEO Toji who for the first time in ages takes off his wedding ring every time he sees you. Although his ex-wife wasn't the best and he was the one to divorce her, he always kept on the ring yet he had the urge to destroy it whenever you were in his line of sight.

CEO Toji who admires how kind you are and how easily you're able to make people feel comfortable in your presence. He can't stop the smile that covers his face as he sees you offering doughnuts to your co-workers after a long week. "Hi sir, would you like one?" you ask softly looking up at him, his eyes pierce into yours. "call me Toji love," he says before grabbing a doughnut and biting into it.

CEO Toji who just thinks about how sweet you would taste as he bites into the doughnut. He imagines how your lips would taste of strawberries and sugar, and your soft skin would have a hint of coco as he kisses up your neck. but for now the sweet doughnut will have to do.

CEO Toji who cant help but blur the lines between you two. He sees the glances you give him as he paces up and down his office and how your eyes fix on his lips as he talks to you in the morning. After his last meeting he heads back to his office assuming no one would be there, yet he sees your desk light on as you sit on the couch with your laptop on your thighs presumably still working.

CEO Toji who strolls into your office with a smirk "You waiting for me sweet girl?" he asks watching as you squeal with shock. "sir I didn't know you were back yet" you let out, placing your laptop beside you, and walking towards him. "Toji, please call me Toji no need for formalities ma" You nod your head letting out a quick "Sorry sir" which makes him chuckle.

CEO Toji who places his hand on your cheek bringing your eyes up to meet his. His hands are rough and his hair is a little messy, probably from running his fingers through it from stress. "you're a real cutie aint ya" he says moving your chin slightly to get a proper look at you in the dim lighting. "so pretty" he mumbles his face inching closer to yours "you want it?" you only give him a quick nod, as you practically pool at his feet in his touch.

CEO Toji who tastes of cigarettes and a hint of whiskey as he kisses you. The kiss is rough and sloppy but you don't mind. Your much softer and sweeter lips struggle to match his pace. The mewls and whimpers you let out as he kisses you has him going crazy inside. You want to stop and question what this all means but the way his hands grip on your waist and his lips suck on your own has you too dizzy to think of anything else but him

-repost of this because the tags weren't working for a week and have finally been fixed :)

Part 2 here

Masterlist

#jjk headcanons #kentosbabes #toji smut #toji imagine #jjk toji #toji fic #toji fushiguro #toji headcanons #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x you #jujustu kaisen #toji fluff

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brittle-doughie · 2 months

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Introducing the Y/N plush! And the cookies and what they do with said plush!

The cookie in the second image are, shining glitter, pomegranate, chess choco twins, golden cheese, caramelon, custard the lll, black pearl, licorice, lychee, komiho, Affogato, lilac, onion, stardust, space doughnut, timekeeper, shadow milk, white lily, snap dragon, pitya, abyss monarch and fire spirit. And if your wondering, the two drawings took 6 hours total-)

The Earthbread Big Seller!

I can tell which of the two took you the longest. I would like to know what it says next to Snapdragon if you can!

“Amazing Y/N Plush! Collect your very own doll to keep. Be the first one on your block to own the amazing new Y/N Plush! Please do not fight over them!”

[A large line had formed at Butterbear’s shop! Cookies of the sea and sky have emerged too to get their very own plush!]

Many fans had considered Shining Glitter’s latest show to be one of her best! She couldn’t take all of the credit though, she had help!

She cuddled close the Y/N plush she had next to her mic stand. She can count on it to allow her to give it her all, as if Y/N themself was watching her!

Having her own plush hold up a mirror for her to help fix her hair up already made itself more useful to Pomegranate than a certain cookie in the CoD.

She took a quick look around before she took it with her to bed, dozing off with the plushie clutched tightly in her arms.

The Chess Choco duo loved that they now have an observer to their chess games in the form of their own Y/N plush! They didn’t expect one or the other to pull anything tricky, but it was nice to have some sort of reassurance that no sneaky tactics came into play!

They split the time in half with how much each of the two got to have the plush. It doesn’t stop disputes from breaking out that had Earl Grey stepping in from time to time!

One of Golden Cheese Cookie’s favorite things to do with her Y/N plush would be to dress it up in whatever amount of riches she can put on it the little doll.

One of her favorite outfits for it is one that makes the plush look like a resident of her own kingdom, complete with wings to match hers. Something she has planned for the real deal when she gets the opportunity!

Carameleon Cookie was so stoked to have a buddy to call his own within the forested areas close to the Silver Kingdom. It sure beats being alone all the time!

He can tell you that he isn’t too attached to the thing as he waits for the actual Y/N Cookie to come by. He just..doesn’t want to lose it, okay?!

It was good to have one of his loyal subjects always around to listen what he had to say! Even if it was just a plush version of them, Custard Cookie III could spend minutes just talking to the plush as if it were a real cookie!

It’s why he considers it as one of his best subjects in the kingdom! Right behind the real Y/N Cookie, of course!

Black Pearl’s Y/N plush is nothing short of the best thing to ever grace her waters. It was down to the very last detail the cookie of her dreams had.

She’d never tire of it, acting protective over the plush, something she’d be more aggressively so if the real Y/N Cookie was with her! The plush will look amazing within her dwelling!

Licorice Cookie didn’t care about Pomegranate’s venom spewing mouth these days, not when he has his bestest friend, the Y/N plush, with him!

He can truly confide his secrets and feelings towards the little plush, like his feelings towards Y/N Cookie, but it better not blab to you! He even uses the plush as a guardian for his diary!

Ha! Why wait in line for a plush when Lychee Dragon could just swipe it from that fumbler, Kumiho Cookie! She didn’t appreciate Y/N Cookie enough, so why not give it to a dragon that certainly will!

Kumiho was not having it though, angrily coming after the dragon for stealing her darling in plush form! She did not let Lychee’s lies get to her, she’s taking back that plush!

Affogato Cookie could just monologue all day to his plush on how he plans to take over the throne one day and Y/N Cookie will join him as part of that dream!

He’d promise nothing but the best life for you with a luxurious life with no worries or limits as he went to caress the plush’s cheek. The best victory would be to have you for himself while that Caramel Arrow Cookie watched! He can’t stop giggling to himself about it!

With how popular these plushies were getting, Lilac was particularly watchful of his. He already called it his own with the lilac scent and he’ll bring down anyone swiping his plush from him.

He always keeps it on his person, both as a precaution and that he has easy access to it to hold and cuddle close when he’s needy. It’s what he would’ve done to the actual Y/N Cookie.

Blackberry Cookie can always count on Y/N Cookie to help settle down Onion during one of her crying bouts, she enjoyed the company from them too. So it was a total win when she received a plush for herself and for Onion.

Onion always liked to go to bed holding both her doll and plushie to ensure a good night’s rest without the fear of a nightmare waking her up, for she trusts the Y/N plush to help her even in her dreams.

Stardust doesn’t mind sharing his Y/N plushie with his friend, Space Doughnut. After all, they share the same trait of seeing Y/N Cookie as a dear friend. Space Doughnut was just as trusting with theirs to Stardust as well!

Space Doughnut does get overly excited when they could play around with BOTH plushies, making Stardust laugh with a smile as Doughnut happily played the two plushies.

Was it really any surprise that Timekeeper Cookie wanted to be greedy and have a number of Y/N plushies? They’re her favorite, why wouldn’t she take them? It wasn’t like the original owners could prove anything against her.

Timekeeper Cookie cuddled herself amidst her plushies without a care in the world, relishing in seeing the face of the cookie she liked all around her. Though it wouldn’t hurt to try and grab a couple more to her collection…and then Y/N Cookie themself!

Shadow Milk’s puppet show was going to be wonderful with the guest of honor being Y/N Cookie themself! Almost! He was able to obtain a plushie from one of his clown faeries and he was absolutely adoring it!

The plushie is always going to be a part of his puppet shows, interacting with a doll of himself that he made. How romantic it would be if the two stuffed dolls danced and smushed together to replicate a kiss! It even made Shadow Milk himself blush at the thought of you and him possibly doing that too~

One of the faeries had gently opened White Lily’s glass case, placing down a Y/N plush they had gotten for her. She immediately grabbed it and clutched it tight close to her, a smile on her face being the indicator that she liked the plush already.

One of the faeries had gotten curious about what made this plushie so dear to her as she reached for it and tried to pull it out of her arms. She had to quickly reel her hand back when White Lily swiped at it, nuzzling the plushie closer to her body, shielding it from any further attempts.

Pitaya Dragon Cookie didn’t expect Snapdragon to enjoy their Y/N plush that much to the point that they whined for Pitaya to hand it over to them. While this was meant to be for Pitaya only, they didn’t mind it as they give it to the young dragon.

Snapdragon immediately swiped it up and flies around with the doll in their arms, babbling happily as they played around with the stuff toy. Pitaya couldn’t help but smile at the sight, it was just like when Y/N Cookie would play with Snapdragon themself…

Abyss Monarch Cookie didn’t find themself going out much, especially for something as small as a stuffed plush. Yet there they were, having went out and gotten a Y/N to call their own.

This sense of adoration they start to feel for this plush was almost on the same level as they had for Y/N Cookie themself. They gently picked it up and spun slowly around with it, was this feeling a sign and not a temporary emotion? This feeling of…longing…

Fire Spirit was so stoked to have receive his own plush that he couldn’t wait to have simmer down first before messing around with it, too enveloped in his own that his hands start to emit smoke touching the plush.

He started to freak out when he open his eyes to see that he had turned the plush into a pile of ash, crying in anguish as he tried to salvage what he can. He went back to Butterbear Cookie with the news and he was generous enough to give him a replacement, warning him to be more careful next time!

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run ovenbreak x reader #crob x you #crob x reader

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redstarwriting · 11 months

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the clash | iv. london calling

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, smoking weed, alcohol, mentions of a gwen canon event, mentions of death, lil angst

a/n: nother long one! i can’t wait to make it crazy angsty bc when i tell u i have THOUGHTS 👀 thank you to everyone who’s reading, i’m trying to update it every day, so hopefully i can stick with that schedule! enjoy this chapter, friends :)

now reading: iv. london calling

previous chapter: iii. black planet

next chapter: v. ever fallen in love

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He fixes his watch to open a portal to his world. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr basically run to get to it. He motions for you to go ahead, and you walk through. Immediately when you step into his room, you’re hit with the smell of weed and incense. You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You glance around. You see drums, another electric and acoustic guitar, empty spray paint cans, spray paint on the walls, stacks of newspapers (all defaced in some way)… it feels very Hobie to say the least. “Now this. This is a livin’ area,” he says, appearing behind you. You shake your head. “So loud, both figuratively and literally. How do you ever get anything done?”

“By being louder than everyone else, obviously,” he responds, and you roll your eyes. “What a way to live,” you remark. “Better than that quiet, dark, and gloomy, way,” he retorts, and you shrug. “If you say so.”

“Hey, Hobie, do you still have the roof all decorated?” Gwen asks and he nods. “Course I do. I own the place, head on up,” he jerks his head upwards, and Gwen turns to Miles and Pavitr with a smirk. “Race ya!”

“Hey no fair! You have been here so many times!” Pavitr yells as Gwen takes off. “Come on, Miles!” you hear her yell. Miles smiles gently and shakes his head before going after the two of them. “He’s so obsessed with her it’s making me sick,” you mumble, and Hobie snorts. “What? Miles and Gwen’s relationship too much for you? You hate love?”

“Love has never done anything but cause me pain. And not the good kind,” you glance at him with a frown, and he raises his eyebrow. Suddenly his eyes get wide. “Oh shit… you had a Gwen canon event.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you respond, and he frowns. “You know, actually talkin’ about that kinda shit is a good way to not sit on it and let it build. You could face some serious problems if you keep doin’ that.”

“Who said I gave a fuck what you think? I didn’t ask for the unneeded advice, alright?” you say, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Oh, right. Forgot I was dealing with a bloody doughnut,” he mumbles and point to the window. “Care to go to the roof and get out of my sight?”

“Sound like the best thing you’ve said since I got here,” you say, leaping out of his window and climbing up the side of the building. While clinging to the wall, you glance out at Hobie’s world. His city looks almost exactly like Night of Yore City, except for the fact that there are a shit ton of fires burning, over half of the buildings look abandoned, the sky is a reddish-orangish hue, and it is so much louder. The name is also vastly different, as his version of NYC is New London. Universal differences get weird and confusing. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued, you turn around, putting your back against the wall and supporting yourself with your hands and feet. The graffitied buildings are a nice touch, you must admit. You snort to yourself when you see a mural of Hobie. If only they knew the asshole behind the mask.

“Now why the hell aren’t you up there with everyone else?” you hear his voice pull you out of your thoughts as he crawls up next to you. You shrug. “I’m a sucker for views, I guess.”

“Well, believe it or not, view is a lot better from the top of the buildin’,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Can I please just be secluded and observe in peace?”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Come on,” he says, starting to walk up the wall. You sigh and lazily roll backwards and up the wall to come to standing and follow him up. When you get to the top of the roof, you see a boombox (blaring punk music, of course) and blankets surrounding a barrel with a fire going in it. Multiple coolers decorate the roof which all look stockpiled full of different beers. “Hey, Hobie, you know that they’re all kids, right?”

“New universe, new rules, love. Drinking age is 16 and up ‘round here, not that I’d give a fuck if it wasn’t anyway. So, sit down, shut up, and drink a damn beer. Maybe you’ll loosen up,” he says, tossing you a random bottle. You roll your eyes and sit down but put the beer to the side.

“Hey, Hobie, do you have any of that–” Miles gets cut off by Hobie tossing him another bottle. “Nice. Thanks, dude,” he says excitedly, cracking the top and taking a drink. Gwen gets her beer of choice, and Pavitr does the same. Hobie, you notice, doesn’t drink anything. “So, what were you guys talking about?” Gwen asks, pointing between the two of you with her bottle. “What?” you ask, and she shrugs. “You guys were alone in Hobie’s for a while and no one died, soooo did you guys finally talk about something you could agree on?”

“We can’t agree on nothin’, Gwen. They were just bein’ their usual self and annoyin’ the shit out of me at any chance they could get,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “Good to know it worked, mate”

“Stop imitatin’ me, poser.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I’ll make you.”

“Try me, Hobart.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that. What were you guys talking about?” Miles asks, and you and Hobie look at each other. “Just asked where the bathroom was,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”

You weren’t necessarily ready to reveal you faced the Gwen canon event. Especially not to another Gwen. At least Hobie isn’t enough of a dick to bring it up in front of them. “Oh, yeah, you did change into your everyday clothes. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that,” Gwen states, taking another swig of her beer. You had changed in your apartment after cleaning your wound, but you don’t say anything. Hobie nods at you, and you nod back.

“Why aren’t you drinking anything (Y/n)? Here, try this it’s so good,” Pavitr pushes his bottle toward you, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to drink, but thanks Pavitr,” you say, and he frowns. “Awww.” You smile slightly at how disappointed he sounds. “Well, I want to remember everything you all tell me without it being fuzzy because I was hoping you could let me know a little bit more about all the spider people in Spider Society. I’m still new, you four, Peter B. Parker, and Miguel are the only ones I’ve really met.”

With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr start telling you everything they know. You learn about Jessica Drew, Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and so many more. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr talk for hours, and since they’re kids, they do not know when to stop drinking. Eventually, the three of them are passed out. Miles is cradling Gwen’s side with his head on her chest as she wraps one of her arms around him, and Pavitr is laying straight on his back, lightly snoring. You giggle softly at the sight. Suddenly the punk music you’ve been listening to for the past however many hours gets softer. You glance over to where it is and see Hobie bent over and turning it down. “Don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he mumbles, walking over to you. The volume of the city has decreased quite a bit, and with the low hum of music coming from the boombox now, his world is actually kind of enjoyable. Though you’d never tell him that. He motions to the skyline, and you turn and look. He was right, as much as you hate to admit it. The view is a lot better from up here.

“Why didn’t you drink anythin’?” he asks, and you shrug. “Didn’t feel like it. Why didn’t you drink anything?” He shrugs and pulls out a rolled cigarette from his vest pocket. “Got somethin’ better.”

“And you didn’t offer any to them?”

“Hey, they can drink here, they don’t need to mess with this shit. ‘Sides I knew they’d be pissed. Gonna have a god-awful hangover tomorrow,” he says, pulling out a lighter. You shake your head. “They can’t mess with your shit, but I can?”

“The two of us are the same age. We’re ‘adults’ or whatever the fuck that means. Are you too stuck up to be ‘round some grass or somethin’?”

“No, Hobie, I don’t give a fuck if you smoke weed. Building manager might, though.”

“Love, I am the building manager. This place is abandoned, so it belongs to me. And you’re not tellin’ me I’m supposed to smoke this myself?” he asks with a sly smirk on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Actually I am.” He groans, putting the joint to his lips and lighting the end of it.

“Do you know how to have any fun?”

“Do you know how to have any–” Before you can finish, he puts his finger over your mouth, and raises the joint to his lips again. He takes a deep breath in, blowing out the excess smoke and glancing at you. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Don’t care. The answer is no.”

“Have you ever actually tried listening to anything anyone says?” “Nah. I don’t listen to no one. I’m me, and if people don’t like that, good,” he says, taking another drag. He glances over at you and holds the joint out. “Y’sure you don’t want some?”

“You actually want to share with me?”

“I want you to not be as much as a ragin’ fuckwit, so yes,” he blows smoke in your face, and you glare at him. “If I take one hit, will you shut the fuck up about it?”

“Probably not, but it would sure make me happier.” You roll your eyes, and take the joint from him, taking a drag. He watches you. He’d never admit it, but he wishes you weren’t such an asshole. The way you look doing that in the moonlight? Stunning. You pass the joint back to him, some of the smoke coming out of your nose. “Stop staring at me.”

“Just makin’ sure you did it right and didn’t waste my shit,” he says, taking another drag. “I know how to hit a joint, Hobie.”

“Really? Never would have guessed you’d do anything remotely excitin’.”

“Oh, please. You barely know me,” you say, angrier than you probably should be. “Then tell me about yourself, love.”

“Hard pass,” you say, and he groans. “I get the desire to stay anonymous and mysterious, obviously, but come on. Chances are we’re gonna be seein’ each other more than either of us wants to, so just open up a bit,” he says, and you frown. “There’s nothing you need to know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me something about you.”

“I killed Norman Osborn with my guitar after defeatin’ him and all of his V.E.N.O.M. forces and successfully led a rebellion against fascism,” he says smugly, “Until those other fuckin’ Nazis showed up, but one day I promise you this world? Will be capitalist and fascist free.”

“No, it won’t. Am I supposed to be impressed?” you ask with a deadpan face. He scoffs. “Damn, you’re a wanker. I’d like to see you try and defeat the V.E.N.O.M. forces. From what I seen your world’s villains are rubbish,” he says and to his surprise, and yours, you laugh. A hint of a smile plays on his features, but you shake your head. “Green Goblin is, you’re right, but... there are others who are much worse. And what the fuck is a venom force? You’re saying that like I should just know what it is.”

“It was a symbiote that– wait, you sayin’ you don’t know what venom is? That’s something every spider-person deals with at some point,” he says, and you shrug. “Guess I haven’t dealt with it yet.”

“Yeah, well, when you do, call me cause you’ll need my help,” he says and you roll your eyes. “I’d rather die than get help from you.”

“I helped you today, love.”

“I could have done that myself,” you retort, and he shakes his head, taking another drag. “I guess I should thank you though.”

“Hmm?”

“For not telling them what we were really talking about,” you say, and he hums. “What they won’t know won’t kill ‘em. But just so you know I was being so serious. Not talkin’ about that shit is more harmful than good,” he says, and you frown. “I’m not much of a talker.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” you groan, and he laughs. He loves pissing you off, might be his favorite thing to do now. But the conversation might actually need to get serious. He may hate you, but he’s Spider-Punk for the people, and you’re apart of that people. He’s there to help, so he may as well try with you.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not? Why won’t you talk about it?” he asks, and you huff. “Because it was my fault, and I don’t want to think about it.”

“Nah, I bet it wasn’t your fault,” he mumbles, taking another drag. You glare at him. “Oh, right, I forgot you were there when their neck snapped after I tried to save them,” you spit, and he glances at you. You can feel that hit starting to affect you, that’s the only reason you said anything about… the incident. Of course, Hobie has good shit, why wouldn’t he. “What were you trying to save them from?” he asks, his voice oddly calm. “The Prowler,” you reply, “He’s the worst of the worst in my universe.” He hums and nods. “Well then, reckon it’s the Prowler’s fault then, innit?”

“What? But I’m the one who couldn’t get to them in time after he–”

“He did it, (Y/n). You did your best, but it ain’t your fault what happened there. That’s what they want you to think. Try and get that through your thick skull, would you?” he says, and you scoff, “They?”

He nods, and you go quiet. He glances over at you as you just sit and stare out at the city. “Stop doin’ ‘at.”

“Doing what?”

“Blamin’ yourself,” he says, taking another long drag. You sigh. “I can’t help it,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “You can. Just takes time,” he responds. You scoff, “You’d think three years would be enough time.” You look out at his city. It’s so different from yours, but you can still see the beauty in it. And you can see the stars. None of the constellations of your world are here, but the sky is still beautiful. “If you need a place to crash, my couch is very comfortable and has your name written all over it,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “I should probably just go back to my universe–”

“No way. No dimension hopping under the influence,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I had one hit,” you say, and he shrugs. “And one hit is enough for you to think you’re goin’ home only to end up in Peter Porker’s shower. You’re stayin’ here tonight.” You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferable for watchin’ out for your well-bein’? Okay, sure.”

“I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t need anyone,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Too good for everyone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Like you wouldn’t say the same thing,” you say, and he shrugs. “You’re right. I would say I don’t need anyone, because I don’t. Especially not a miserable thing like you,” he says, and you frown. “Good.”

“Great.”

“Fuck you.”

The two of you just glare at each other for a bit before he flicks the butt of his joint off the building. “Goin’ to bed. See you tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Shut up and follow me back to my place,” he says, getting up and walking down the building. You follow, yawning as you realize just how tired you are. When you get back inside Hobie’s place, he points at the couch. “Lay there, and don’t move until mornin’, got it?”

“I’ll do what I want.”

“Amazin’. Just don’t wake me up, and I won’t give a fuck,” he says, walking into his bedroom and kicking his door shut. You roll your eyes and lay down on his couch. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable, and you find yourself actually dozing off faster than you anticipated. Hobie walks out of his room to get a drink of water and ready to fight you verbally again, only to see you passed out on his couch with literally no blanket or pillow.

He sighs, grabbing a throw blanket off his bed and gently placing it on top of you. In the morning, you wake up before everyone else. You notice the blanket, and know only one person could have done that, but you don’t feel like sticking around to say anything. You just go home. But before you do, you leave a little note saying, ‘didn’t need your sympathy, thanks but no thanks,’ and draw a little middle finger.

He’ll get the hint you appreciated it.

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『 tag list 』

@444neapolitain* @afraidofshrimp @astrok1dz @casmosmoon* @d1nne @dotheyevenknowmars @f1shb0nez @faerieluuv @fisshil @fukingsad @friendly-reject @hisdarlingabsurdity @imarealfungi @ineedsomeconfidence @inkthgoat @iwillrisefromthefire @j3st3r-13 @jingliuu @jjkclub @katiebug0603 @khaleesihavilliard @kittekat420 @lacunaanonymoused @marshallowy @mistpx* @miwagila @naarra* @nikabearr @pookiesnatcher @queen-of-the-bored @scoliobean @sillylittleguyinc @siriusly1 @sparklyphantom @sxftiebee @thatweirdgirlsposts @valee1xoxo* @weyrrii* @wheeeelys @woahrin* @zero-boxes

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #hobie #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

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littlelillycatsworld · 2 months

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suprise suprise pizza did not fix any of my problems in fact it left new ones (I'm bloated and feel sick and gross) 😞

maybe the cake (doughnut) will make everything better

#disordered eating thoughts #ana trigger #ed rant #ed not ed sheeran #tw ana diary #ana rant #@n0r3xia #f@st1ng #⭐️ving #f@sting

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prettysuper · 10 days

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@reddrakebird:

If there was one thing Conner Kent could put his mind to - it was sulking. If there was a world record for the number of days spent wallowing in self-pity, Kon was fairly certain he could win it outright out of sheer stubbornness. During the disaster in Metropolis, Kon had spent the entire day rescuing people from the destruction of his own rage manifested. Finally, Kal had placed his hand on his back and told him to go home. But where was home? Kon didn't know anymore. He was starting to doubt everything all over again. Hurt tugged at his heartstrings like a grappling claw from an arcade machine. Humiliation crawled up the back of his throat. Stupid boy. He spent the next several days on the moon, wanting to isolate himself from everything and everyone, lost in self-deprecating thoughts. But there it was safe to kick at the dust, pull off his shades and just yell; eyes heating up as he shot heat-vision far off into space. Screaming where nobody could hear you. It was ugly. It was lonely. But most of all it was cathartic. Memories replayed in his head; those blue saddened eyes haunting him 384,400 km away. Eventually, he had to go back to the farm. Ma would worry about him. Ma worried about everyone. And sooner or later, Krypto would track him down and then he'd have to deal with talking to Kal about his feelings. Hard pass. Kon eventually headed down to the Kent farm, spending lunch with Ma reassuring her that he'd be fine - just on a mission with his friends. It was a white lie, and one he wasn't sure she entirely bought but she didn't probe further and he appreciated that. Eventually, he got out his phone to check on Bart. That's when the number of missed calls and messages hit him; a perfect twenty. How very like Tim. His stomach wavered as he clicked on the notification, scrolling up to read from the top. At first his eyes rolled, breath hardened as Tim asked if he was okay, then a few messages later if he wanted to talk. But the more he scrolled, the more he felt his chest tighten until eventually he crumbled and messaged the other man a simple, short text back. He busied himself helping out the farm with iits chores the rest of that afternoon before heading inside to grab a shower in he early evening. Taking the time to wash the grime off his skin, Kon got out (this time with a towel wrapped around his waist), heading to Kal's old room, which had temporarily become his when the Kents unofficially adopted him. He pulled out a fresh costume and grabbed his jacket, fixing his hair in the mirror, before doing up his boots and belt and sticking his shades securely onto his face. He got to the studio in Bludhaven deliberately a minute late just to keep Tim sweating. Hovering outside Timothy's window, Kon tapped a rare and gentle knock on the glass as he floated in the air outside, waiting for permission to come in. In his other hand, he held a small box of glazed doughnuts, picked up on the way there.

He waited for Timothy to open it, before passing him the box and slipping inside, careful not to bang his head on the window frame.

"Hey." He mumbled awkwardly; no hint of anger or malice left in his voice. He'd already exhausted that harshly into space. His face saddened at the visible darkened circles underneath the smaller man's eyes and the sunken in cheeks beneath them. "Long week, no sleep huh?"

#[ interaction: red robin ]#reddrakebird #[ main verse:// second star to the right & straight on till morning ✨]

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connorsbonez · 1 year

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DC/DP Crossover Idea #44

Somehow Skulker is the one to acquire a de-aged Phantom and decides to just…take him along in his hunts?? Just strap him to one of those baby carriers and they’re good to go.

Like sure, he could just drop the welp somewhere in his haunt back in the Human Realm and wait till the kid is back to his normal form but that would require Skulker having to drop by the Human Realm often to check in on the welps status so it was just easier to carry him around till the boy changes back and they can go back to hunting him down. (He’ll change back, right?)

Of course, nothing is that simple when it comes to the Phantom boy, because due to him getting suddenly shrunk down his powers have decided ‘hey, you can no longer reasonably control me’. And it’s not usually a problem because Phantom is usually hanging out in a good old baby carrier that’s close enough to Skulker so his core kind of…helps stabilize the powers a bit??? Like sure, more often than not there’s a thin sheet of frost covering his body from where Phantom was, and every so often the boys limbs would randomly disappear or shoot out ectoplasm but that only really happened in the times that Skulker had to remove Phantom from his person and leave him alone to his own devices.

Skulker had quickly learned that he couldn’t just leave Phantom because 1. The welp was a natural wanderer and only being able to either crawl or barely float didn’t stop him, at all. 2. He was a trouble magnet and 3. All these got worse when the boy got bored, causing him to wander off and attract trouble

There totally wasn’t a 4th reason, nope, not at all.

To fix this problem, he put the welp into one of his cages (it got changed into a more child-friendly version, imagine a play pen with a top on it and there you go), perfectly baby Phantom proof so he couldn’t get out, and he even threw some baby ghost toys in there so he can entertain himself while Skulker went after his prey.

Eventually Skulker + Phantom find themselves in the DC universe for a reason of your choosing, maybe a group heard of the Infinite Realms Greatest Hunter and they needed his help to take a creature down.

Well, he goes and the group is greeted by a large robotic-looking man with solid green eyes and firey hair, and the white haired baby boy with glowing green eyes that sat happily in a baby carrier as he chewed on…ice that was formed in a doughnut shape and had a green tint to it? It wasn’t hard to see the sharp teeth dig into the ice that seemed to refuse to crack even a little.

They weren’t really given the chance to question the child, from both the lack of interest that the hunter had in answering and also the very reason they even tried to contact Skulker in the first place.

Some side-glanced the cage that suddenly appeared and now contained the small child who didn’t react to this like it was something normal for them. Some even tried to touch the cage, only to be quickly greeted by a shock of electricity, a clear sign to not touch the cage.

It’s only till after Skulker was able to deal with the creature that they needed him too, does he answer.

The problem is that Skulker forgot that these mortals weren’t from the Infinite Realms, they weren’t ghosts, and they also didn’t know how Skulker and Phantoms dynamic worked, as he wasn’t used to interacting with those who didn’t know all of those at least vaguely.

So maybe answering with “I’m waiting for him to grow up so I can have his pelt hung amongst the rest of my trophies.” And then immediately disappearing afterwards with Phantom wasn’t the smartest idea but hey, it’s not like Skulker knew.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #crossover #danny phantom #skulker #Skulker goes from maybe ally to enemy so quickly he doesn’t even realize lmao #writing prompt #fanfiction prompts #Conbon’s Prompts

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wonderlandwalker · 4 months

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The Doughnut Shop | Sirius Black x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: It's just a doughnut shop, no harm in stopping by right?

Content Warnings/Tags: Fluff, insinuations of smut, that's it really

Word Count: 1.0k

A/N: If you recognize where this is from just pretend you don't, I ran out of ideas and came across this one so I incorporated it cause I liked it.

You had been at a party in central London, and Sirius had suggested stopping by a place he knew. Whether it had been the best or the worst idea ever depends on who you'd ask.

Sirius had first met you in a class you shared back at Hogwarts. His attention immediately went to you, how could it not? You were with Lily who was trying to pay attention, and you were trying to get her not to, not at all interested in what Professor Binns was talking about. If he was honest, he would have much rather spent the class listening to you as well. Sirius found that he couldn't keep his eyes off you. He stopped listening to the lecture being held and all of his focus was on you. Sure, he had seen you around, heard about you too, but there was something that mesmerized him now that he hadn't known before. Yes, he vowed to himself he would spend all his attention on you if you let him, and he knew he was damn good at convincing people.

When you turned around and caught his gaze, he wanted to look away, but couldn't. Your eyes were hypnotizing him and the way they sparkled as the slight blush crept up his face made him want to spend eternity right then and there.

It was the beginning of a cat-and-mouse game the both of you would play for years to come, and it was still going strong.

As you enter the doughnut shop, Remus and James head to the counter to place an order, and you take a seat at the corner table. When you look up, you see Sirius has taken a seat as well, at the next table over.

“What are you doing?” You ask him

“What does it look like I’m doing, I’m sitting down.” He tells you as his feet come to rest on a vacant chair.

“But you’re sitting down over there.” You move up your eyebrows as if to insinuate your thinking, but he doesn't seem to get it just yet “So?”

“So, I'm sitting down over here.” He seems to understand you now, but he doesn't make any effort to leave his spot.

“Well then move here with me.” You know he’s stubborn, but he’s not the only one.

“No you move here with me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“I can do this all day Sirius.”

“Fine, if youre not going to move, I’ll just move you over here with me.” He’s trying to challenge you, but you can see right through him.

“Knock yourself out.” Sirius makes an attempt to get up, but his feet are tired from the party you had come from, and with a huff, he sits back down.

“Why do I have to move over there with you anyway.”

“Because I’m not the one who sat at the wrong table.” You tell him

“Don’t you think it’s a little presumptuous to assume my table is the wrong table when my table could just as easily be the right table?” “No.” You simply state

“And why is that?” “Because I’m the leader of the clan, the alpha male, the one whose feet just fell asleep so there is absolutely no chance of movement.”

“Fine” He grumbles, but he moves over to sit at your table.

Not long after, James and Remus come back with a box filled with doughnuts. And you all take one from it. Sirius looks up at you, and he immediately recognizes the mischievous smirk that had sketched itself on your face

You take the doughnut you had just picked up, and take a slow bite out of it while looking Sirius straight in the eyes. The look on his face was priceless, and probably best described as a mix between surprise and excitement.

You kept your eyes fixed on Sirius while Remus desperately prayed for a hole in the universe to swallow him right then and there, James was too focused on the pastry to even notice anything was going on.

A tense silence followed while you kept the eye contact you had made with him

Until you lean on the table in Sirius’ direction and take a bite out of the doughnut he was holding up. And at last, he broke the tension.

“How does it taste darling?” He asked, tilting his head and grinning like a fool in love.

“I know something that would taste even better.” You say, as he uses his free hand to tilt up your chin and bring you closer to him. You can feel his breath on your skin, it you can recognize the smell of blueberry from the pastry. You think about reaching up, about pulling him down to meet your lips and give you what you want. And just as youre sure he’s about to kiss you, he speaks up again. “Maybe you need a reminder.” He says, winking at you with that look only he has, that look that tells you he wants to devour you, to give you every last piece of himself

“Okay, that's enough!” Remus interrupts, standing up, yanking James up with him who still doesn't seem to have a clue what is happening. “We’re going back home. Right now.”

You and Sirius share one last look, both standing up and following the now grumpy Remus through the door, a smile gracing both of your faces, because you knew it wasn't over just yet.

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imaginespalace · 1 year

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⋰˚☆ 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘. 𝙫𝙤𝙡. 𝟮

𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘳: 𝘪 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♡

♡ — 𝗌: 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 | 𝖺: 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 | 𝖿: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿

♡ — 𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

♡ — 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖼. 𝗏𝗈𝗅. 𝟣

╰ ⌗ 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

the xx file (jonathan byers; s)

alexei surprising you (alexei; s)

breeding kink (alexei; s)

hi, pretty (steve harrington; s)

neglected husband (steve harrington; s)

single dad/dilf!steve and the babysitter (steve harrington; s)

it happened one night in detention (abo!universe; eddie munson; s)

take the edge off (eddie munson; s)

who’s to say (older!eddie munson; s)

trailer park babydoll (wayne munson; s)

╰ ⌗ 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗸

an interrupted nap (montgomery scott; s)

of oil and antiseptic (a/b/o universe; alpha!montgomery scott; s)

the natural order (a/b/o universe; alpha!leonard “bones” mccoy; s)

the seduction of scotty (montgomery scott; f)

hold my hand (montgomery scott; f)

worrying about scotty when he’s on a mission (montgomery scott; f)

red (montgomery scott; a, f)

being held hostage and bones worrying sick (leonard “bones” mccoy; a, f)

╰ ⌗ 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘂𝗹𝗮 𝟭

braids (max verstappen; f)

rings (lance stroll; f)

obsessed (lance stroll; f)

green suits you (lance stroll; f)

biggest champion (lance stroll; f)

lover (oscar piastri; married!au; f)

wildflowers and fruits (series; lance stroll; s, a, f)

╰ ⌗ 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘇𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗼

love to lay (s)

“i’m not wearing underwear, thought you’d like to know.” (s)

shivers (s)

dirty mouth (s)

nights like this (s, f)

chef’s kiss (s, f)

╰ ⌗ 𝘀𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗱

squirm (vincent renzi; s)

home movie (s)

sometimes, love isn’t enough (vincent renzi; a)

a gloomy december morning (vincent renzi; f)

soft, early morning (vincent renzi; s, f)

touch starved (vincent renzi; s, f)

╰ ⌗ 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗺 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿

the delinquent (marriage!au; flip zimmerman; s)

lemonade (marriage!au; flip zimmerman; s)

love on me (ancient emperor!au; kylo ren; s)

bedding (medieval!au; kylo ren; s)

paris pregnancy (mob!kylo ren; s)

╰ ⌗ 𝗾 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗷𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱

sadness is fixed with coffee cake and cuddles (f)

late night’s and tea (f)

birthday cuddles (f)

every breath we drew (a, f)

logical fallacy (series; a, f)

╰ ⌗ 𝗴𝗲𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲 𝗸𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗺

a personal experiment (s)

daylight (f)

sleeping buddies (f)

death and doughnuts (f)

nightmares (a, f)

╰ ⌗ 𝗷𝗼𝗵𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝗰𝗸

indulge (s)

alone together (s)

an even exchange (series; s)

╰ ⌗ 𝗻𝗲𝘄𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿

letters addressed to you (a)

you heart i will choose (f)

tired (a, f)

╰ ⌗ 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗼𝗹𝗳

dominance (theo raeken & scott mcall; s)

sex tape (stiles stilinski; s)

riders on the storm (stiles stilinski; s)

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crheativity · 9 months

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SUMMARY: What to do if a certain cat won't get off your lap!

WARNINGS: Slightly ooc maybe? Not sure

COMMENTS: I accidentally procrastinated this so hard, it's Leona's birthday now. Whoops ;n;. this was so hard to write man. I have a personal vendetta against Leona for the way he treated Ruggie in book 2, so I dunno much about him. I hope I did him justice for you guys!!

You were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On the one hand, you were thoroughly enjoying being Leona's lap pillow. You'd had a small crush on the Savannaclaw dorm leader for a long time, but being so close to him was still enough to give you butterflies.

On the other hand, your exams were right around the corner, and your next class was in five minutes. You might be able to make it on time if he got off you now.

Doesn't look like he was planning on it, though.

You racked your brains for an idea on a way to get out of this situation and make it so Leona doesn't think you hate him.

A lightbulb went off in your brain. Quickly and quietly pulling out your phone, you sent a certain Hyena a text. After promising him a box of doughnuts for his assistance, all you had to do was wait.

"Leona!!"

There it was.

Ruggie marched up to the two of you as Leona groaned.

"Oh great, he's here." Leona grumbled and tried to turn away from Ruggie.

"Oi, don't you try to turn away from me." Ruggie crossed his arms and donned a thoroughly unamused expression. "You promised you wouldn't be late to class this week!"

"Yeah, well something came up." He slowly started to get off your lap, rubbing his eyes sleepily, then fixed Ruggie with a glare. "I'm gonna be late today."

"Oh no ya don't." Ruggie grabbed Leona under the arms and dragged him off you. "Exams are right around the corner. Prefect's gotta get to class too, right Prefect?" He winked at you.

You feigned surprise. "Oh, shoot. Is that the time already?" You glanced at your phone. "Thanks for the reminder, Ruggie! Gotta go, bye!" Grabbing your bag, you sprinted off towards your class.

Leona grumbled, watching you run off. "Ruggie, you owe me."

"What, you want me to graduate before you? Shishishishi."

"I'll pay you if you leave me alone next time."

"Done." Ruggie grinned. The Prefect's gonna owe me so much for this.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

#twst fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x reader #twst fluff #Leona x reader

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mangoshorthand · 1 year

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Prompt from @missjiru that I picked up from this post. She is an incredibly talented artist and I can personally attest that her lewds are 🔥🥵🤤(check her profile for the tiniest hint of the possibilities!). Luckily for all of us thirsty people, she accepts commissions.

The whole crew is out for karaoke for whatever reason (wedding, everyone's collective birthday or something) and fem!reader sings this track and Five is mesmerized. They eventually go back home/to the academy. Maybe they are chilling in the bar area. Five asks if she'll sing it again just for him. Burlesque-y, strip tease-y, sexy shenanigans ensue?

The Birthday Boy | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 3.8k words, Rated E

October 1st: the communal birthday.

Until recent years, bad memories of being ‘the birthday kids’ meant that Five’s siblings liked to celebrate their birthday apart. Since regaining a new sense of themselves as a family, however, October 1st became a family gathering more strictly observed than Christmas or Thanksgiving.

The routine was a loose one: the afternoon was spent with the entire family at Griddy’s Doughnuts, laughing and, on Five’s part, complaining about how it wasn’t what it used to be. Every year he had the same complaint, and every year he was told not to be a miserable old bastard. After that it was dinner, drinks and a night of karaoke on the town.

You’d woken Five that morning with a steaming pot of coffee, a lingering kiss and birthday gifts. He’d recently expressed an interest in learning the guitar, so you’d got him lessons, but you privately didn’t hold out much hope for these: you’d seen him try to learn the basics of violin with Viktor once, and he’d lost patience as soon as it became clear he wasn’t going to be an immediate prodigy. You thought the cufflinks and tie pin you got him, however, might have a longer lasting benefit. These, he sported proudly in the bar.

It was lucky the lights were low, Five thought, because Diego was a total mess. He held a beer loosely in one hand and swayed expressively along with the music. It was refreshing to one of the most sober in the group.

“-And love dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves,”

Beside Diego on the stage, taking the part of David Bowie, Five side-eyed him as they sang in unison. He had to admit, despite being this drunk, Diego was really going for it with his Freddie Mercury.

“This is our last dance, This is our last dance,”

Five smirked as Diego stumbled, belched and hit a bum note.

“This is our- Jesus, Diego!”

Five shook the deluge of spilled beer off his now-soaked jacket

“Under pressure!” Diego continued, unperturbed, now holding the beer bottle upright again and raising his arm above his head.

“You’re paying for my dry cleaning,” Five said, swiping at his waistcoat before rejoining Diego to sing the last two lines.

“Under pressure, Pressure.”

Five was conscientious in karaoke, as in most things: leaving a song unfinished was bad form in his opinion.

“Idiot,” he grumbled, as the song came to its end.

“It’s my birthday,” slurred Diego, “don’t be an asshat.”

“Don’t remember wishing for a beer-shower when I blew out my candles.” Five grumbled.

He slotted the mic back into its stand, shaking his head and left Diego to his own devices. He stepped off the stage and craned his neck over the other patrons to where he’d left you at the bar.

“She’s gone to powder her nose,” said Lila, appearing unexpectedly at Five’s side.

“Right.”

“You look like you’ve pissed yourself,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Five rolled his eyes. Behind him, he sensed Diego’s unsteady gait approaching.

“I’m gonna go clean up. Try to make sure he doesn't end up in a ditch.”

Lila gave a mock salute and Five edged around her, moving in the direction of the men’s room.

He fixed the spill as best as he could. First dabbing it with folded toilet paper, and then drying the wet patch beneath the hand-drier, earning him stares and the odd smirk from other bathroom users.

When he at last pushed open the heavy bathroom door, he was greeted by the sound of slightly-distorted piano, drums and electric guitar over the speakers: a tune he vaguely recognized.

Just as he was about to turn his steps towards the bar, the voice of the singer caught his attention.

“-And they could never tear us apart.”

He smiled, recognising you before his eyes could turn to see you on the stage. When his eyes caught up with his comprehension, they were well rewarded for the effort: he was enthralled immediately.

You swayed gently from the shoulders, in circular movements back and forth. Effortlessly alluring in that wrap dress he loved on you: the way it skimmed your curves, swelled and dipped in all the right places like a lush range of hills and valleys. It showed just enough smooth skin to make him crazy, and hid just enough to make him anxious to see more.

He was staring, he knew, but the way your lips moved only an inch before the mic was already giving him ideas.

You caught his eye, and a glowing smile lit up your face. To be the object of that look was the best gift you’d given him that day.

In turn, you studied him as you inhaled to sing the next line. There he was, his back and one foot against the wall, leg bent. His arms were folded and his brows raised in interest.

“You, you were standing,”

You maintained eye contact deliberately as you sang it, giving him a cheeky wink for good measure. It let him know that, from your perspective, ‘you’ wasn’t some lyrical archetype, but him.

His expression flickered: one corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyebrows quirked, but it was his eyes that made the greatest impression. They fixed you with a brooding, assessing gaze.

You knew perfectly well what was on his mind. You knew that look: it was the one that removed your every inhibition and left you happy for him to do as he pleased with you. With that look, you knew something of what would be in store for you when he got you home.

“I was there, Two worlds collided”

Klaus appeared at Five’s shoulder.

“Heavens, you should be using protection rather than eye-fucking her raw.”

“And they could never-” Ever, ever, tear us apart.”

He and Klaus clapped as the music finished, Klaus watching Five with amusement, Five still watching you.

“I’ve got a viagra guy if you need some little blue pills, grandpa?”

Heading over to rejoin you as you stepped down from the stage, Five flashed Klaus his most dangerous smile.

“I’ll be quite alright, thank you.”

As you made your way through the crowd, he came upon you suddenly, stepping out from behind a rowdy group of women.

“Hello,” he said, simply, his hand coming immediately to your lower back- a reassuring and slightly proprietary presence.

Smut below cut

*** You snuck out early, arriving back at the Academy before everyone else. Five dragged you into the living room for one final drink before turning in. His soaked jacket and waistcoat were thrown on the couch behind him, and he sat on one of the barstools in his shirt and tie. He watched you as you moved busily behind the bar and winced as he took a sip of his newly poured drink.

“Oof. You don’t skip on tequila, do you?”

“Nope,” you said, placing a cocktail umbrella in his drink with a flourish.

He let out a breath or two of laughter.

“Thank you, dearest.”

He was eyeing you with the same look he’d given you back in the bar. You tried to meet his gaze, but the knowing smirk that appeared there made you flush and look away.

“You have a good voice,” he said, while you studied the polished surface of the bar, “I was sorry to only hear the end of that song.”

“Thanks,” you said, a little embarrassed, stirring the straw around your own cocktail.

He considered you for a moment, head tilted.

“Would you please sing it for me?”

“What?”

“I want you to sing it again.”

He jerked his head, indicating the space on the rug in front of the bar- an informal stage for his viewing pleasure.

“Five-” you said, trying to dissuade him, but he interrupted you with an imperious look.

“Hey- it’s my birthday, remember.”

And then he grinned. It was a maddening expression. He looked, honest to god, as if he’d just beaten you with an infallible argument. Which, of course, he had.

Slowly, you stepped out from behind the bar and set yourself in the space he’d indicated. He pivoted on the stool, so that he was sitting facing you. Drink in his left hand, he leaned casually backwards against the bar. He looked effortlessly sophisticated; confident; self-assured.

“There’s no music,” you said, hoping for an excuse to wriggle out of it.

You should have known. He just smirked and produced a remote control from his pants pocket. He pressed play and the sound of the mellow piano issued from unseen speakers.

“I set it up while you were in the bathroom.”

You shook your head and huffed, half exasperated, half gratified. He inclined his head at you expectantly, as if to say: ‘Well, go on then.’

With no more than a quick roll of your eyes at this, you let the music take you away from the slight self consciousness around performing this way for an audience of one. Despite the feeling of exposure, your hips loosened, the flow of the music taking them into a soft sway.

After all, you’d been ‘exposed’ in front of Five many times before, and in various different ways. Why should this be any different?

He watched, satisfied: the way your legs went on forever in those heeled shoes, the way the snug fabric around your hip stretched and undulated with the tidal movement of your pelvis. They’d look good moving that way on his lap, he thought, with the skirt hitched up nice and high, of course.

“Don’t ask me, What you know is true,”

Even with your eyes closed, your voice wavered with nerves. You could feel his eyes on you like a breath of wind, raising the hairs on your exposed skin.

“Don’t have to tell you, I love your precious heart,”

“Strip,” came his voice.

You stopped singing, wrongfooted.

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” his voice held a quiet command, “it is my birthday, after all.”

He gave you another imperious raise of his eyebrows, slurping his margarita through his straw. He looked as if you were a mildly-entertaining TV show that he was reserving full judgement on.

You shook your head, laughing disbelievingly at his cheek.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want to.” he said, silkily, “I know the idea turns you on.”

“Anyone could walk in!” you said, unable to hide your delight at the idea.

“Exactly,” Five said, voice low, “and you like that, don’t you?”

A smile spread slowly across your face. You did like that. He could read you like a book, and this knowledge combined with the situation itself made your pussy give a little twinge. You could feel yourself becoming wet already.

You stepped backwards onto the rug, to give him a better view. His little demand made you miss the whole first chorus, and now the drums were beating stirringly towards the second verse. You made the most of this, looking him in the eye as you rolled your hips more suggestively this time, letting their flow bleed into your waist and torso. You raised your arms above your head slowly, arching your back so that your breasts were thrust into greater prominence.

You grinned as his eyes flicked there, just as you intended. So easy to direct.

Time to up the ante.

“We could live, For a thousand years,”

Your hands skimmed your body on the way down, cupping and rubbing across your breasts and coming to rest on your hips. Five’s lips pursed as he watched, readjusting his seated posture to spread his legs fractionally wider.

“But if I hurt you,”

Your hands came to the tie at your waist.

“I’d make wine from your tears.”

Slowly, you began to loosen the knot, Five watching hungrily. Seemingly without his knowledge, the hand not holding his drink left the bar and came to rest on his thigh.

“The shoes stay on,” he murmured.

“I told you, That we could fly” The dress undone, you held it around yourself, loose enough to give him a better view of your cleavage, but tight enough to tease. “Cause we all have wings,”

A twitch of the skirt’s hem to reveal your upper thigh. Five put his drink down.

“But some of us don't know why.”

You began to sing the chorus, but your voice petered out. Five’s longest finger was in motion, stroking softly up and down his inner thigh. In another situation, it might have been an innocent fidget, but not in this one.

While you hadn’t expected this, exactly, you had anticipated Five wanting to see you in your underwear before his birthday was out, so you’d chosen lingerie: black lace bra and panties and, for good measure, stockings with a suspender belt.

You dropped the dress.

“Mm,” he said, softly.

You gyrated to the music, closing in on him and running your hands down his chest. His hands reached out for your hips, but you moved them away.

“Wait. Don’t touch yet.”

He nodded, both hands moving to his knees. You bent from the waist, fingers continuing their journey: skimming past his waist, stomach and down both his thighs. He ogled your breasts, this angle making them seem extra full, cupped perfectly by the bra. He had to control an almost-overwhelming impulse to rub his thumbs over your nipples, poking prominently behind the delicate lace.

You heard his controlled, huffed out exhale and smirked.

When you straightened back up, his eyes were back on yours.

“Can I touch myself?”

His voice was low, gravelly.

“Only because it’s your birthday,” you said, grinning and stirring your hips with honey-smoothness.

His hand immediately cupped himself through his pants, his thumb stroking lazily up and down his shaft. So far, the fabric had hidden the significant bulge between his legs, but as his palm flattened it around him, you could see it, the manhood swollen and heavy in his hand.

You revolved on the ball of one foot, still moving your hips in that syrupy way. You sat softly on his lap, grinding your ass into him where he was hard.

“Oh shit, that’s just not fair,” he groaned, both arms returning to the bar, “how am I supposed to not touch you now?”

You chucked as you rubbed yourself sinfully against him, glorying in his tight breaths; his gentle shifting beneath you as he tried to increase the friction. With the song having ended a minute or so ago, the only sound was his sighs and the slight creak of the barstool.

When you noticed his knuckles turning white, gripping the ledge of the bar, you thought he’d had enough.

“You can touch me now,” you said.

His hands immediately came to your hips and firmly slid you off his lap.

“Get on your knees,” he growled, with a glimpse of teeth visible beneath the curve of his upper lip, “blow me.”

You moved to obey, but not fast enough, he used his grip on your hips to urge you faster, turning you towards him before grabbing your shoulders and push-pulling you down towards his crotch.

Your knees hit the plush pile of the rug and you looked up at him as he feverishly unfastened his belt, parted his flies and pulled his cock unceremoniously from his underwear. It was thick, stiff and a deep, fierce red at the tip.

“I’m in charge now, okay?” he said, barely moving his lips.

“Yes sir.” you replied, the epithet half in jest and half not.

At this confirmation, his right hand laced itself in your hair immediately, reinforcing the message. In his left hand, he held his cock by the base and, angling your face towards it, he let it drop so that it lay obscenely across your face. The soft impact of his weight brought a sting of pleasure to your core, radiating outwards from your pussy. You could feel your own wetness collecting against the lace of the panties.

“Put out your tongue.”

His voice was still deeper than usual. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he sounded angry.

You did as you were told. Taking himself back in hand, he slapped himself into your tongue, wetting his tip liberally with saliva and enjoying the view.

He let out a growling breath as he directed himself slowly into your waiting mouth, sliding across a slick tongue until your nose met his neat curls. This was the best part, he thought, the first time he was wholly inside you. The feeling was something like sinking into a perfectly warm bath, cock first.

“That’s it,” he whispered, still in that gruff tone, “that’s it angel. Go nice and slow.”

His grip loosened on your hair, signaling for you to take over.

He was hard and hot in your mouth, his skin silky against your lips.

You looked up at him, watching as expressions passed across his handsome face, changing and morphing from one to the other as the sensations took over him: smug satisfaction became ecstasy and ecstasy became mild amusement as the movements of your mouth kept him on his toes with unexpected spikes of pleasure. As you drew your head back, your lipstick stained his skin, leaving a colored smear all the way up his shaft.

He looked down at this, mouth agape; wide-pupiled eyes shaded by his thick, dark lashes. Amusement was gone now, replaced by nothing short of incredulity.

“My God,” he whispered.

Your lips formed a seal around his head, to hold him in your mouth as you licked eagerly at his tip: something that always made him weak at the knees. Tonight was no exception: his grip on your hair tightened again and he made an abrupt, pained noise, as if he’d just been struck by an enemy rather than pleasured by his lover.

As his neck arched and he looked straight at the ceiling, he rocked forwards on the barstool, getting his cock as deep as you could take it.

“Ah shiiit,” he called out, the words almost an inarticulate sound.

Encouraged by this, you tried to swirl your tongue again, but his shaft pinned your tongue down. Instead, you bobbed your head, swallowing his cock again and again, letting your lips stroke him as they dragged and plumped with his passage between them.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed, as he tried to stop himself thrusting against the barrier of your throat, “just incredible, baby. I’m so…I’m nearly there.”

One of your hands came to his, still rooted in your hair, and gripped it. You guided his hand to push and pull at your head, inviting him to control its movement and take his own pleasure.

He made a low grinding sound in his throat as took you up on your unspoken offer. He held your head more firmly in his hands and stroked himself with your face, slowly pushing you down and bottoming out in you and then, just as slowly withdrawing with hissing breaths. Every time, with intense self-control you could sense in the set of his grip, he stopped just short of your throat.

As he continued to use your face this way, you could feel his fingers tightening and loosening spasmodically. Hiis movements were becoming more erratic, his breathing ever more shrill and gasp-like.

Amd then he moaned, tensed, and froze.

He turned his face back to you and drew your gaze to his. He began to tremble. His eyes were hazy, strung out.

“You want to swallow it?”

By way of answer, you sucked his cock again, resuming at the same tempo he’d been at before he stopped.

“Oh fuck!” he barked.

Again, his pelvis was thrusting messily into you, incapable of the finesse needed to avoid occasionally butting up against your throat. Your eyes watered, your larynx constricted, but you held out, (it was his birthday, after all).

Your tolerance wasn’t tested long. With a shout, his pleasure burst its bounds inside your mouth, painting your tongue with the evidence of his orgasm: thick, salty and potent. He held your head to his crotch as if letting go might mean death. His shrill breath hitched as his cock throbbed with pump after desperate pump deep into your throat-

The sound of the door and rowdy voices.

Five, preoccupied as he was, didn’t immediately register this, so you thumped your fist on the outside of this thigh. This brought him back to the here and now and, instinctively, he blinked, dragging you with him by the hold he had on your head.

You emerged, dizzily, behind the bar, shielded from the eyes of his siblings, newly arrived home. Still coming, Five let your head go.

“Shit, your dress,” he muttered, distractedly, leaning against the polished wood and wriggling tensely.

His hands went urgently to his waistband to cover his dick, still shooting out thick but waning splashes of come, but he found your head still resolutely in the way.

“What are you-? Oh shit,” he whispered.

Unbelievably, you were still sucking him off, still swallowing his seed even as his siblings were saying their goodnights in the atrium. He closed his eyes and shuddered, keeping his moans in with difficulty as you diligently ensured that every last moment of his orgasm was earth-shattering, even at the risk of being caught this way.

“God, you’re such a freak,” he whispered, as your tongue swiped at the final drops of come beading at the end of his dick.

“Thanks for noticing,” you said, giving him one of his own, self-satisfied little smirks, “Happy birthday.”

You kissed his tip one final time.

Five shook his head, unable to believe his luck, but he couldn’t bask in the afterglow.

Hurriedly, he made himself decent and blinked back around the bar, leaving you to crouch behind it alone.

“Hey Five. You’re still up?”

Luther’s voice. His footsteps were approaching the living room.

“Just off to bed actually,” you heard Five reply, slightly out of breath. At that moment, your dress landed just in front of you, flung over the top of the bar by Five. You reached for it and scrambled to put it on.

“Oh okay,” came Luther’s voice again, slightly disappointed and closer now, “I was gonna have one more drink if you-”

“Um, no!” said Five, stepping between Luther and the bar. I got some margarita left. Let me pour you one.”

“Huh,” Luther sounded pleasantly surprised at this obligingness, “thanks Five.”

Fully dressed now, you straightened up, smoothing your tangled hair and holding a bar towel.

“Oh, hey,” Luther said, sounding even more surprised now, “I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s because I’ve been on my knees for so long.” you said.

This made Five’s head whip around to stare at you. If looks could kill…

“I’ve been cleaning up,” you said, looking directly at Five now and smiling sweetly, “I spilled some tequila.”

“Oh, right,” Luther said, unconcerned and totally unsuspicious.

Five’s lips pursed. Clearly, he intended to deal with you when you got upstairs to bed.

…And you’d make sure you held him to that.

Request masterlist >> HERE

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves x f reader #Spotify

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ghoultrifle · 4 months

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what are some of the most notable things ant would stick his dick in?

oh my dear jesus the list is so long it wouldn't even fit in tumblr's 4 million character limit jhaskjldf have some highlights !!

doughnut (obviously) (he thought the glaze was cum so when he had an unglazed one he tried to fix it himself)

vacuum cleaner (classic)

mountain's garden (watched saltburn and got ideas)

peanut butter jar (inspired by @everybodyshusband affectionately telling me it's a good thing i don't have a dick because it would end up getting stuck in peanut butter jars on the daily)

the weird hole in the back of the sofa (it was already wet ???)

cannelloni (he's got a skinny dick, okay ?)

everyone else's fleshlights (he refuses to buy his own)

one of cumulus' scrunchies (it smelled of her)

wrapping paper tube (this one was a fail, he's not that skinny)

aether.

#tag yourself #i'm weird hole #trifle rambles #trifle answers #jesus <3 #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghoul hcs #shitghosting #phantom ghoul #spicy tag

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infinitystoner · 6 months

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🐊 headcanons...

If Loki was somehow forced to buy birthday presents for Thor, Tony, and Nebula on their birthdays...what would he get them?

God of Gifts

Masterlist

Word count: >900 Author’s note: I don’t think I’ve ever written anything so quickly, but I couldn’t stop imagining Loki giving gifts to everyone! Here’s a sweet lil’ gen fic/drabble featuring some of my favorite Marvel characters.

This was ridiculous. Nevertheless, Loki followed his brother into Stark’s cabin.

“Happy birthday to us!” Thor bellowed, flinging his arms open and nearly knocking Loki back out the door in the process.

It was not Thor’s birthday, nor Loki’s. It was, however, the birthday of the Iron Man himself, Anthony Stark.

“We don’t know when our birthdays are,” Thor had bemoaned as Pepper handed out party invitations earlier in the week.

“Oh, how heartbreaking!”

“I know when my birthday is,” said Loki, rolling his eyes at her sympathetic look.

Thor was shocked. “What? How?”

“I asked.”

Of course, Loki didn’t know his exact birthday, but the day Frigga had claimed him as her own was good enough for him. Loki also knew Thor’s birthday, but that was of little consequence.

“You are more than welcome to celebrate with Tony, Thor. You too, Loki.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Loki replied as Thor gave Pepper a hug so mighty that her feet left the ground.

And now, Loki was at said party. Worse still, he’d procured gifts.

He surveyed the room, giving a cordial nod to Banner and Colonel Rhodes before approaching his first target.

“Many happy returns, Stark.” Loki gave a hesitant smile to the man leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Glad you could make it, Horns. Can I fix you a drink?” Tony asked before taking a sip of what Loki surmised was scotch.

“No, thank you. But, speaking of potables…”

Loki pulled three amber vials from his pocket and placed them on the countertop.

Tony set down his glass, picking up one of the tinctures instead. “And what exactly is this?”

“A gift.” Loki rocked back on his heels before continuing. “Your wife has you on a special diet, does she not?”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Yeah…”

“Well, one drop of these elixirs will make even the blandest of health foods taste like,” he tapped his finger on each jar as he explained. “Cheeseburgers. Fried potatoes. And doughnuts.”

Without a word, Tony retrieved a piece of broccoli from a veggie tray on the kitchen island and poured a drop of liquid onto the florets. With a flourish, he took a bite. Loki watched in satisfaction as Stark’s eyes widened.

“Schiiit–” he mumbled. “Unbelievable.”

Loki was caught off guard by the hug.

After explaining the magic behind the concoctions, he headed towards the living room – and his next target.

“Best regards, brother.”

“Ah, thank you for playing along, Loki,” Thor laughed, wrapping an arm around the younger prince’s shoulders as he sat on the couch. “I am glad to celebrate with you.”

“In honor of this most special occasion,” Loki replied, pulling a small brown parcel from his pocket and handing it to Thor. He picked at his palm as his brother opened the box, revealing four miniature figurines.

“Loki,” whispered Thor, his voice catching in his throat. “I- I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

Blinking back tears, Loki watched as Thor carefully sat the small figures on the coffee table. First was Frigga, resplendent in gold. Next was Loki, with gilded horns and emerald cape. Then Odin, complete with Gungnir. And finally, Thor, strong and mighty with lightning in one hand and his hammer in the other.

“Is this what you’ve been toiling away at in your workshop all week?”

“Yes, and I actually quite enjoyed the process,” Loki confessed, leaning forward to observe his own handiwork once more as he donned a mischievous smile. The figurine of himself was a few millimeters taller than Thor’s – practically undetectable, but Loki knew, and that was all that mattered.

“Just don’t let the Valkyrie see these, or she’ll want me to make enough to sell at the New Asgard gift shop.”

After promising Thor he’d work on figurines of the Warriors Three next, Loki headed out onto the front porch. There was still one gift left to give.

Nebula sat alone on the steps, looking up into the night sky.

“Heading back out there soon?” Loki asked, settling down beside her.

“That is the plan.”

“Here. For your adventures.” He handed her a tarnished skeleton key.

“Is this going to make our ship smell like eggs or something?” Nebula turned to him as Loki chuckled. Her skepticism was warranted. He was the trickster prince, after all.

In truth, the key was a relic from his youth. Long forgotten until yesterday, when he discovered it in his workshop.

“It is enchanted,” he explained with a grin, “but for use as a tool. That key will successfully pick any lock and open any door in the galaxy.”

“Liar,” she hissed, but Loki caught the twinkle in her black eyes as she observed the serpent at the key’s bow emit a green glow, twisting into itself.

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough,” he said, straightening himself before walking to the front door. “Happy birthday, Nebula.”

“How did you–” By the time she turned around, Loki had already disappeared.

***

“Some Migardian traditions aren’t so bad, are they now, brother?” Thor teased as they walked back to the compound later that evening.

Loki shook his head, but he couldn’t hide the smile spreading across his face. No, maybe life on Earth wasn’t so bad after all.

tagging @loki-cees-all @sarahscribbles @cleo-fox @tripleyeeet @use-your-telescope @the-lady-amphitrite @liminalpebble @fictive-sl0th @coldnique @joyful-enchantress @superficialdomina @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @tallseaweed @maple-seed @loopsisloops @mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fandxmslxt69

#gloriousbirthdaybash #loki drabble #loki imagine

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