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ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

yk that scene of morgan and elle in the car where he says “that must be the boyfriend 😏” and when she answers its gideon

could i request a blurb with that prompt but with hotch?

say when reader picks up the phone dereks shocked (the facial expression he pulled with elle) and he thinks the reader was joking. but she really wasn’t and her and hotch are in a secret relationship 🤗 and derek ends up catching them making out in the conference room later on and says “i thought you were joking 😨”

thank you! :-)

You love riding along with Morgan, because the two of you engage in banter so foul that Strauss's head would explode. There's no shortage of bickering, swear words, and insults between the two of you, but there's also no shortage of laughter, and riding with Derek anywhere is guaranteed to be fun.

Lately, though, he's had a leg up in the teasing game. He's caught you acting odd, and he's insistent that he's discovered your secret relationship.

If only he knew.

Your phone rings while you're on the highway, and he looks over at you smugly, "Aw, that must be the boyfriend."

You glance at the phone, seeing Aaron's contact there, and smiling wickedly.

"It is." You nod, and he slaps the steering wheel in victory while you answer, "Hey, Hotch."

"Y/L/N," Aaron greets you, sure to use your last name on working hours. As quick as Derek had celebrated his guess he retracts it, grimacing in horror as you stick your tongue out at him.

Aaron's only calling to tell you that there's been a new lead uncovered, and that JJ and Reid are investigating. It means you're still on track for an interview you're conducting with Derek, and as you hang up, settling back into your seat, Derek whistles lowly.

"You got me good," He shakes his head, "Would'a veered right off the road if you were dating the big man."

"Oh, you'd flip," You agree, laughing to yourself, "Just be glad you haven't caught us making out."

Derek's luck doesn't last. Hopped up on adrenaline from kicking both doors and ass, he struts into Hotch's office two days later to turn in his report on the case you've just closed. But what he finds behind the closed door stops him dead in his tracks, the file falling from his hand and landing in a messy heap at his feet.

You're making out with Hotch. You're- you're making out with Hotch!

"You're making out with Hotch!"

The two of you were both a little too wrapped up in each other's presence to notice the click of the doorknob, but Derek's bewildered shout does the trick. You jolt away from Aaron, standing were you'd been straddling his lap on the couch. He tries straightening his tie, as if that's the biggest issue and not the lipstick smeared over his face.

"Morgan, close the door." Hotch commands, and the agent tries to escape with it. "Not-! Get back here."

He steps square on the folder he'd dropped when coming in, standing there looking close to tears as you stand with your hands behind your back.

"You two have been," He lowers his voice, glancing around at what you presume are ghosts in Aaron's office, "Fooling around together? Really?"

"In my defense," You smile sheepishly at Derek, "I told you yesterday. You just didn't believe me."

"Yeah, because-!" Derek motions between you frantically, "I- I didn't know you were robbing the grave, Y/N! And Hotch! You're- ah, man, how long?"

"Two months." Aaron states, expression neutral although he's fiddling with his fingers at his sides, "We need your discretion."

"Discretion? Discretion?" Morgan ogles Aaron, "You expect me to walk out of here like I didn't just see her tongue down your throat?"

"Yes," You nod, "We do."

"Well-!" Morgan stammers, throwing his hands up in defeat and letting them slap his thighs on the way back down, "I- ugh, that's- that's gross. How am I supposed to know you'll work together if we leave you at the precinct, and not canoodle in the bathroom?"

"You don't." Aaron muses, and Derek's face scrunches in disgust, "But if you learned how to knock, Morgan, you won't be witness to any more."

"I am gonna walk out of that door," Derek decides, leaving the files where they are in preference of his peace of mind, "And we are never gonna talk about this again! Never, I won't tell anyone, I swear, but never let me catch you doing that shit again, you hear?"

"Loud and clear," You promise, calling after him as he heads out the door, head ducked and shoulders shivering slightly, "Have a good weekend, Morgan!"

"Don't talk to me!" He snaps back, yanking the door shut behind him. He's only halfway down the stairs from Hotch's office when he hears the lock click into place and his face warps in discontentment once more.

"Oh, come on guys, really? I'm not even out of the building!"

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenarip #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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zepskies · 8 months

Note

Playing with Soldier boys hair headcanons?

Oooh good one, because I have thoughts and feelings about this. 😂

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader Word Count: 300

Headcanon: Playing with Soldier Boy's hair.

You can't help it. You love playing with Ben's hair, as much as he lets you.

Which is often, because he secretly loves it.

Even if he won't admit it, Ben sometimes craves the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. In his defense, you have gentle hands.

For you, it's because his hair is soft, and all too "sweepable," and you often brush the strands away from his eyes.

Especially during lazy moments lying in bed, or canoodled on the couch, or even during more intimate moments.

During sex, the brush of your hand through his hair is a simple thing that sometimes draws his eyes to your face, or secretly has him reveling in your softer touch. It's a contrast to his roughness, and sometimes reminds him to be a bit more gentle.

Other times, you'll lay against his chest, letting the rise and fall of his breath move you. And you'll unconsciously reach up to toy with the soft ends of his hair.

Or he'll occasionally allow himself to lay in your lap while you have your way.

For Ben, he's at his most relaxed when he feels the gentle sweep of your fingers -- in his hair, massaging his head, stroking his face or his neck.

It's gotten to the point where you do it almost absently, out of habit.

Sometimes he even falls asleep at your ministrations.

But he's also very aware of your touch. In general, he's all too self-aware when it comes to people touching him, drawing within his personal space. (A consequence of his time in Russia, though he doesn't acknowledge it.)

You don't even realize this, but you're helping him just with your calming touch. It comforts both of you, if in different ways.

Still, it's a small thing that connects you and Ben on a deeper level of intimacy, greater than either of you realize.

AN: 🥹 Ahh, I am soft. I'm such a sap, aren't I? lol

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List:

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#ask me stuff #soldier boy #playing with his hair #soldier boy headcanon #Soldier Boy imagine #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #zepskies answers

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yorshie · 9 months

Note

Dunno if you still take requests. But maybe for when you feel like it? (No pressure tho. You can totally ignore this if it isn't up you alley.)

How do them turtle dudes like to romance their honeys? Like who uses strategy (badly)? Who goes with the flow (also badly)? Who just blurts it out the first moment they realize what they're feeling (so SO badly)? And who just buries it behind heaps and heaps of repression (the absolute worst)?

And what about after being assured that their feelings are reciprocated? Is there a change in behavior or demeanor?

🧁

Cupcake Nonnie, I am so sorry. I have no excuse. I have no idea why this was so hard to write, or why it took so long.

I decided two birds one stone sort of thing with this one, a blurb about how exactly starting a relationship with each turtle might go, followed with headcanon style of what they would expect out of a relationship, how it would progress, and how a good relationship would affect them.

As always set in 2023 so turtles are 24-25, SFW

Michelangelo

By the time Michelangelo asked you to be his girlfriend, you low key thought you’d already been going steady for about a month. The turtle shows up like clockwork every Friday at your place, with a pizza and a soda, and the two of you stay up late watching movies while cuddling on the couch. Several times, you’ve woken to him stealing a hug or a nuzzle before leaving before the sun’s up.

So when he turns from the movie unexpectedly one night, the last item on your ‘what is Angelo about to ask me’ bingo card was a sheepish:

“Hey, babes, would you- will you be my girlfriend?”

You stared at him for a whole scene, taking in those baby blues, before you blurted out your own question. “I thought I already was?”

“Oh. Ok. Cool.” And he grinned like it was nothing, turning back to the tv, leaving you still staring at the side of his head like he’d turn back around with a ‘gotcha’.

Needless to say, you didn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie. Mikey, to his credit, picked up on your mood during the credits, and you had a long conversation over what exactly the two of you wanted to be to the other.

Mikey’s love language is physical touch and quality time spent together

Angelo loves PDA. Soft kisses and nuzzles, hugs, you name it, he’ll try and get away with it. One of his favorite things to do, because he’s a little shit, is to see how many innuendos he can fit into a conversation while still maintaining decency, just to make you turn red and his brothers sigh in exasperation.

Lowkey though, he doesn’t expect much from you other than your affection, and doesn’t have an overarching game plan. Sure, he celebrates anniversaries, but all the big milestones are simply tackled without him making a big deal out of them. One day you’ll just look up, realize you can’t tell where his stuff ends and yours begins, and have to come to terms with the fact that somehow the two of you are living together with no conversation about it happening.

Sunshine turtle approaches romance the same way he approaches life, with the firm belief that fun is the most important factor. Get ready for movie dates, late night parkour trips, canoodling on rooftops, etc. Just as often though, he will want to stay in. He’ll cook for you, cuddle while you while playing video games or watching a movie, include you in schemes and plans to drive his brothers crazy, anything to include you in his life or show off your bond to others.

There isn’t a big difference to Mikey’s behavior after he knows you’re into him, though now when he gets in your space he doesn’t hold back from touching you. Turtle was a flirt beforehand, he’s a flirt afterwards. The only difference is, now when he says something you know eventually he will get around to trying it. He says something flirtatious that gets a reaction? He’s not gonna forget, and he’ll bring it up at a later date.

He will stop flirting with everything that walks by eventually however. Guess calling you babes/babycakes/angelcakes in private had some spillover connotations (ie he can’t say it without thinking about you and it makes him gag trying to say it to anyone not you)

Donatello

Donnie’s blurted out his feelings for you in the middle of the Lair during Sunday Football. You’d arrived to find the turtles acting weird, leaving the room whenever you entered to grab snacks, suddenly making excuses and disappearing so every time you were left with an increasingly nervous Donnie who seemed to trail you around the Lair. By the time kick off happened, Raph, who seemed increasingly edgy, asked you to bring him another beer from the kitchen. You readily agreed, but when you turned from the fridge with the cold can Donnie blocked the way back to the others.

“Hey Don. You ok?” You asked, giving him a smile, craning your head back to meet his wide eyes.

“I like you.” He blurted out, practically looming over you.

You tilted your head, fighting the blush, convincing yourself not to read too much into it. “I like you to, Dee.”

When you went to move around him though, thinking the moment was over, he caught your hand, grip slightly sweaty. “No, I mean…” He waited for you to meet his eyes again, and he visibly swallowed. “I- I like you.”

You eyes widened, a second before your smile followed. “Oh! Dee…” You set the beer to the side, covered his hand with your own. “I like you too.”

His answering smile lit up the whole room.

Donnie’s love language is gift giving and quality time.

This turtle wants affection, but he doesn’t always know how to ask for it. You’ll have to pick up on his little cues to catch what he wants. Such as, if you notice him standing over you for periods of time before moving off and then returning, he might want to cuddle, and is just working up to asking for it. If you want things to go smoothly between the two of you, it’d be prudent to make a list of things you’re comfortable with and things you aren’t. It’ll stop him from worrying over things like hand holding and kisses, if he knows you’ll welcome his advances, and it’ll save you some headache trying to parse out what his nonverbal cues are if he is given free reign to just tell you what he would like.

Dee’s idea of romance is to spend time with you, in whatever way you’ll let him. If you want to park your butt and watch him tinker in his lab or the garage, this turtle is all for it. If you mention there’s a play you want to see or a museum you’d like to go to, he’s already scheming on how to get the two of you in. The turtle disguise doesn’t work as well on him since he’s so tall, but he can sit in the very back and turn into a ninja statue just for you.

He makes gadgets for you to stay in touch when you’re not with him, and readily goes into tangents about things you’ve said or done, or projects he’s working on for you. His brothers have learned to tune him out to various success.

As far as changes after the two of you start a relationship, it’s easy to say that that it’s leverage over him and his habits. If he needs to eat, sleep, or just get away from his computer’s before the blue screen fries his brain, his brothers send in you. He gets in a snippy mood and clearly needs a night out or a break, you’re the only one that can convince him to go. Ooo, feel the power.

With you in his corner, Donnie blooms. Yes, he’s a genius and a sarcastic little shit beforehand, but now he has a cheerleader, a partner in crime, someone to fuel his crazy schemes and to be his rubber ducky on occasion. Anytime any old doubt trickles in, he only has to turn to you and be reminded that someone is always there for him, through thick and thin.

Raphael

You ended up confessing your feelings for Raph long before he’d gotten the courage to say anything. He probably would have continued to ignore his feelings, if you hadn’t cornered him in his weight room and spelled it out, angry that he’d been successfully giving you the cold shoulder for weeks.

“Hey, you wanna tell me what I did wrong, or are you gonna go sulk in the corner?” You asked, arms crossed and hip cocked, blocking the entrance to the weight room.

“M’not sulking.” Came the instant reply, though Raph didn’t turn to address you directly. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Leo said I could find you here.” You narrowed your eyes as he rolled his.

“Course he did, stickin’ his nose into-”

“Your brother isn’t my concern, you are.”

“Yeah?” He grumbled, still not looking at you, moving to rack up the manhole covers on his bar. “Why’s that, princess?”

Normally, that nickname made you feel special. Now, it pissed you off. Made you stupidly, sarcastically honest. “It’s probably because I’m not into him, I’m into you, dum dum.”

The weights clanked loudly together, and he turned just his head, glared at you. “Oh, real funny. Don’t go jokin’ about that.”

“I’m hilarious.” You answered. “And I’m 100 percent serious, Raphael.”

He turned to face you fully, head cocked, eyes slowly going from defensive to wide the longer you stood your ground. “You serious?”

You nodded emphatically, and he snorted, ran his hand over his face. “Damn. That’s fucked, babygirl.”

“It is not!” You started angry, but the wide smile on his face broke you out of the emotion.

Raph’s love language is verbal affirmation and physical touch

Yea this turtle can’t decide which is worse, telling you how he feels or seeing his large hands next to your small ones. But he so desperately wants to find the words, so desperately wants to ask you to hold his hand. Expect for him to start coveting private moments with you. He’ll agonize over what to say, what to do. You’ll have to lead the way most of the time, at least at the beginning, until he gets over waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to change your mind about him and all the issues that come along with him.

Date nights with him are simple. He doesn’t like people, doesn’t like to be out of his comfort zone. He’d rather stay in with you, or up on the roofs where no one can see the two of you. He is very aware of how he is different from a human though, and so he will go out of his way to make sure he can bring normal things to the relationship. His gut instinct is to turn down anything new immediately, but all you have to do is pull out the goo goo eyes and he will bend. He wants to be helpful as possible to you to make up for the things he can’t do, and it’s up to you to make sure he understands how appreciated he is.

He loves to hear you voice your feelings for him, but he won’t outright ask for confirmation. Expect quiet moments where the two of you simply exist in the same space, or maybe cuddling while talking. Raph doesn’t like to be reminded of how different the two of you are though, so you might spend some time reassuring him that you love him, without telling him you don’t care about how different he is, because he will not believe you, or worse will get upset.

The differences in Raph are a long way down the line. At first, he might be even a little more standoffish, doubt and worry overtaking his usual responses. You’ll have to be dedicated to get anywhere past the initial ‘there’s no way this is gonna work, we’re both crazy for thinking this would work, you’re crazy for liking me, and I’m crazy for listening’ phase that will grip him hard. If you can weasel past that, however, be prepared to have someone that will never give up on you, ever. You’ll have a significant other that will come to your aid at the drop of a pin, at the first sign of trouble.

He’ll mellow out over time, become a little softer around the edges and a little less ‘the world is out to get me and mine’. He might even tolerate his brothers’ teasings over the two of you, as long as they do it where you can’t hear, trading huffs and denial for small smiles and easy laughter at their pointed questions.

Leonardo

You found Leo waiting at your window, the same way you’d found him countless times. This time however, when you let him in, you were concerned at his formal movements. He was always careful, but now he was watching you as though waiting for something.

“Hey, Blue?” You asked, moving automatically to start tea, the way you had every time he came to visit. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” He answered, and you could tell it was a knee jerk reaction, but you let it slide.

“M’kay, well, I was just about to start dinner? How does that sweet chicken with the rice I made last month sound?” You asked, already knowing his answer, moving to grab the ingredients.

He surprised you by moving into your space, catching your hand. “Can we talk, for a moment, first?”

You turned to give him your attention, careful to keep your movements slow as you took his hand. “Sure. Of course.”

Leo stood there for a moment, petting his thumb over the back of your hand, before he took a deep breath. “Stop me if I’m overstepping, but I need to speak my mind.”

At your nod, he continued. “I like you, more than a friend, more than I should. I wanted- wondered, that is, if you could feel the same for me?”

If he had lifted his head at all, he would have seen your answer in the high wattage smile plastered across your face.

Leo’s love language is verbal affirmation and quality time spent together

This turtle has thought of everything. He’s intimately turned his feelings for you over and over in his mind, viewed them from every angle to inspect for marks or imperfections before he even accepts how he feels for you. Once he’s accepted them, get ready for slow burn romance. He has a sequence of steps the two of you must dance through in his head, and if you try and skip any steps he will want to backtrack to correct it. You want to hold hands for the first time and share a first kiss? He’s not going to turn down smooches, but he might not even notice you are posed for one, considering he’s too busy marveling at the feel of your much smaller hand in his.

Dates are simple things, he’s too paranoid to sneak into movies like Donnie or Mikey, instead he’ll go for walks with you, try and spot stars with you through the light pollution. If you want to do nothing but watch movies and lay against him, he’s in heaven, but he absolutely loves to hear you read from books out loud to him.

Expect lots of talks with Leo, but it’s less about sharing information and more he just wants to hear your voice, turn his brain off and simply exist for a moment where no one expects anything from him. Not to say he doesn’t listen, and not to say what you tell him isn’t important, but its calming to listen to simple workplace gossip after dealing with crime fighting and high stakes espionage. On the flip side, there will be times when he comes to you clearly lost in his head. In those instances, he just wants to be reminded that you care for him, that you’re by his side, that you willingly chose to be with him.

Most of the changes with Leo are the two of you are together happen privately, after all he is a very private person. The others don’t get to see him unravel, set aside everything bothering him. The first time you realized you cracked the code, is when Leo told you something that was bothering him, without getting defensive. Like he knew even if you disagreed with him there would be no judgement. After that, the two of you were inseparable.

The only outwards change, that everyone picks up on, is his sense of humor. Before, it only came out in high stress situations, during fights, one-liners to goad others into making mistakes. But after meeting you, it morphs into quiet, humorous observations. The first time he dropped a joke in the middle of dinner just to make you snort into your soup, his brothers froze, wondering what the hell was happening. Raph legit asked Donnie if body snatching was a thing and if they needed to quarantine Leo.

#fanfic ask #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse donatello #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #tmnt bayverse x reader #cussing #cursing #my writing requests

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 7 days

Text

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 1: Linked Here!

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

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drdemonprince · 5 months

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Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your honesty and willingness to explain how queer spaces can be a lot less transphobic than discourse within the trans community can make it seem. A lot of the past few years for me have been spent closeted out of fear that reactions around me would be uniformly hostile. Things are obviously going to be different for me as a transfem, but I have a much easier time being optimistic now!

I am so glad! Listen, the people who post online all the time about how miserably hard it is to find a place for oneself as a trans person create a kind of reverse survivorship bias. They are the people who have already convinced themselves it's best to forever remain closeted or that forging any kind of accepting community for oneself is impossible. Often, they are also people who once harbored unrealistic fantasies about just strolling up one day into a pre-existing community that was perfect for them, not realizing that we must form our relationships painstakingly one by one (it tends to be the white eggs/unhappy lonely trans people who are most prone to thinking of community in that way). there's plenty of trans guys who are doomers like this too and they really tend to actively encourage one another to remain locked away. it's like incel kind of behavior when it's taken to its most extreme form. sometimes, it can be outwardly really nasty homophobic shit too (especially among "afabs" who complain about "cis gays" never accepting them and being super privileged). in its milder form, it's just extreme trauma brain.

The people you do not hear from so much are the people who are busy out in the world going on dates, acting in plays, getting their asses spanked in dungeons, playing tabletop roleplaying games, and going to farmer's markets with their three also transgender wives. Those are the people who know (that is to say, have learned!) how to interact with their fellow queer people, have spent some time out in the community, and in all likelihood have many rich friendships with cis lesbians, cis gay men, enbies, asexuals, bisexuals, straight ish poly people, and everybody else under our big umbrella.

I don't want to be overly pollyannaish because of course trans people have a tough time, and especially trans women have unfortunately to be on the lookout for really vile transmisogyny. But I think when people are wounded and traumatized by these things, they sometimes make the entire world sound incredibly unwelcoming, which creates a self-limiting feedback loop of isolation and mistrust. That is what trauma does! But it is not the truth. and we only learn otherwise when we give other people the chance to prove our worst fears wrong.

Like, just for an example, this Sunday I was at a silent book club at Dorothy, a gay bar on the west side that skews lesbian but is for everyone. I'd never been there before but it was an absolutely charming experience! Dozens upon dozens of lesbians draped over couches and curled up in chairs with their books, quaffing cocktails, alongside a few random dots of gay and/or trans men. Trans women were just a natural completely unremarkable feature of this environment. I couldn't even tell you how many t girls were there. It would be like counting plus sized girls or butches at this lesbian function. If it's a good lesbian function, there's gonna be a diverse crowd and it won't be weird or a big deal to anyone, they'll just be like any other women there. a lot of the big lesbian events here in Chicago (like Strapped) are organized by trans women, so of course there's a robust trans femme presence there.

And all of these groups at this function were getting laid. the couches were overflowing with women, so many that girls were grabbing pillows to sit on and huddle together with their books on the floor. Girls canoodled and cuddled on couches. I saw a cis alt girl covered in facial piercings flirting with a very prim and proper trans girl who was dressed like a victorian governness. they didnt know one another, but after the silent book club hour was done, they left for a while together, then came back with some food. across from me and my friends, i watched them gathering up on the couch, the space between their bodies slowly closing up into nothing over the course of the evening. they flirted and touched and then left the bar together to (and im no expert on body language but i could pick up on this one) fuck eachothers tits right off.

and of course plenty of other lesbians and wlw paired off or tripled off and had their fun too. again, just like steamworks, fat people, thin people, black and brown people, white people, disabled people, neurodivergent people, trans people, older people, younger people, everybody was there. like any good queer space, it was just a reflection of humanity. there is always more that can be done to make these spaces more broadly accessible to full community. but part of that is by putting ourselves there.

again i dont mean to make it sound like finding and making one's space is easy! especially not for trans women! but I also don't want people to get seduced by the hopeless jadedness that some foment online. there are spaces that some trans women I know will never go to -- even an explicitly trans affirming bookstore like Women and Children First gives many trans women I know bad vibes they cant quite explain but all feel (the store is owned and run by old white cis lesbians, it's not surprising to me that it's a little fucked no matter their good intentions) -- and ive heard people say transmisogynistic stuff at events, particularly from "ill date anybody but cis men" type t boys (my brothers, i hate you). shit can be tough. very tough. but also, the world isn't all uniformly as hostile as it's made out to be. there are people who are desperate to meet you. I hope you will come out to find them.

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tokio-motel · 8 months

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AHEM

yk about like bills and toms hands righttt(we love georgs arms but this aint abt him rn)

ok so maybe do smth for headcannons or full fic when they find out their bf(reader like duh and obv together cuz u made smth where reader dated both of them soooo😍) has a hand kink specifically for hands like theirs, toms hands AND arms and how they get veins and stuff and for bill how they just LOOK

like they would probably notice reader acts a certain way when they touch his thigh or smth and they thought it would be the touch itself but nahhhh its they handss(u can put other stuff too)

and later on they prolly tease reader abt it a lil(mostly tom) and then they canoodle(most likely bottom reader) with way more touching and body squeezing or wtv tf u call it

did i make this too long??? yo i think i talk too much😭😭😭

KAULITZ TWINS X MALE READER: HAND KINK

(OH MY GOD THEIR HANDS IN THIS PIC WJHRBDKREBEDJHCB (i think i have a problem) )

・They didn't notice it at the beginning

・Like if your breath slightly hitched if Bill grabbed your thigh or how you got flustered when Tom gently ran his hands up your arms

・They then started to notice how you would always look down at their hands whenever they grasped you, or just ran your fingers over their veins whenever you held hands.

・Oh my god this made them so giddy

・They thought it was slightly funny but it also made them kinda....whats the word...powerful?

・Just the fact they could touch you in the slightest way and you'd be blushing made them feel some kinda way.

・They would touch you so much more now, oh my god.

・Just coming out of nowhere and grabbing your wisst as they pull you near them, hands over your hips

・Bill couldn't help but smirk if you flushed or stuttered on your words, leaving soft kisses on your neck as he gently rubbed his thumbs over your waist.

・The teasing would be ENDLESSSSS from Tom.

・He'd always lay his hands on you, whether it be on your thighs or hips, neck or arms.

・Chuckles to himself if you blush or if your heart beat speeds up

・His stomach hurts from laughing

・Bill would point out how your cheeks would redden

・Rubbing his thumbs over them in circular motions- oh my GOD.

・im blushing while writing this 😻

・The twins set up a plan together, just to see how far it will be until you break your silence.

・Going to you at the same time, maybe they put on a movie and sat on the couch with you inbetween them.

・Then they start to rub their hands down your body, Tom squeezing your thigh as Bill rubbed his hands on your stomach

・They couldn't help but laugh if you flushed or covered your face.

・They didn't stop- oh no.

・Nah, they keep grabbing you and touching you at every given moment, the movie just background noise at this point

・If you happen to quietly whimper or whine at any given time, they look at each other and quietly laugh to themselves.

・Tom rubbing over your thighs, fingers trailing to your inner thighs as Bill leaves hickeys all over your neck as he wraps his hand around your neck

・They're enjoying this far too much.

・If you're starting to get horny, they make you beg. You're being so quiet right now, apart from the soft whimpers leaving your mouth, afraid they will become louder.

"What was that, sweetheart?"

・Tom would ask, his hands rubbing your inner thigh as his fingers trail higher and higher-

・Bill chuckles into your neck, teasing you slightly

"Cmon, let's hear that pretty voice, M/N."

・His voice is slightly muffled but it sends vibrations up your neck and tingles down your spine due to his dominant tone.

・How can you deny him?

・You feel Tom gently tug at your waistband with those dammed perfect hand as Bills fingers travel up your shirt and to your nipples-

・OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!

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pedge-page · 3 months

Note

Okay but pls feel free to ignore this I'm not creative but I love your writing

But I have an elderly sphynx (cat) and he's the love of my life, he gets cold so he wears jumpers and hats, and wants to be inside my clothes for warmth and is just an absolute baby, and sleep in my arms/in my hood honestly 24/7. He's like a small person he's so needy.

I can picture Joel getting home and pregnant reader has acquired one from someone, and the cat is her "practice" baby and she dresses him up and absolutely spoils him and carries him everywhere and Joel is just so baffled by what on earth is going on. BUT CANT QUESTION IT BECAUSE READER IS A MEANIE (as she should be) (mother knows best)

🩷🩷🩷

Sphinx cats are so cute oh my gosh!!! She would love him so much, subconsciously because she'd think it's like a little Joel when he would shave and be like "smooth—hairless—baby man" (which is subsequently the last he shaved fully).

Also can't believe youre gonna give such cute imagery but not even show us with a pic ugh devastating but ALAS. Here's how it would go:

- - - -

When Joel comes home, he usually expects one of two things: you're sleeping on the couch with some mixed fruit jelly smeared all over your mouth and between your tits, or you're throwing a plastic cup (because he pre-baby-proofed the house to avoid having any dangerous objects in YOUR grasp) at his head for opening the door the "wrong way" (how does one open a single sided hinged door the wrong way? He's still trying to figure it out).

So when he walks in the front door and hears excited little peeps from you from the bedroom, he's a little weary.

It's not till he's tossing his keys on the counter and hearing you say "you're such a handsome man" that Joel's heart stops.

There's no way. You wouldn't. Not now, not so fucking pregnant with his baby—

Oh fuck. Was it his baby? Or was it this "handsome man" in HIS house with HIS wife, canoodling in HIS bed!??

And how long? How long has this affair been going on under his roof? The entire time you'd be angry at Joel during your pregnancy, maybe you meant it? Maybe you were done with him, seeking something new and exciting?

When Joel finally rounds the corner, just one step away from the doorway, listening to your giddy gasps and rustling clothes, he doesn't know if he can bring himself to find out. Can only imagine a million things he's going to see, all of which are too painful to conceptualize.

He hears your excited giggles, closes his eyes, braces his heart, and walking in.

It takes him a second to register what he's looking at: there's no other man in here, but rather something tucked up in one of his old high school hoodies that you're wearing, backwards, with the hood hanging against your chest.

Then there's something moving in it, and he's almost scared you may have already had the baby and are suffocating it in the hood, though your belly is still very much full, so what—?

"Joel!" You shout, looking petrified as if you're caught in a scheme.

Before Joel can even speak up to ask what's going on, you're pulling what is possibly (from Joel's perspective, mind you) the ugliest pink squirmy ballsack out of his hoodie, complete with a skiny pale rat tail, big marble eyes and pointed ears.

"Meet Ramses!"

He drops his backpack at the door and stares. "What. Is that."

"I literally JUST said his name is Ramses." you scold, kissing the—thing— on the wrinkly folds of its forehead.

It starts purring affectionately, and it clicks.

"That's a CAT?" Joel shouts.

You can feel the poor thing curls up against you with tension at his booming voice.

Joel, please, lower your voice—"

"Where's its fur? No wait, why is it here? How did you get a cat? Who's cat is it? WHY do you have it??"

"Well Deanna next door had a family emergency in Connecticut and they had to fly out this morning, so I agreed we'd watch Ramses until they got back."

"Why is it naked? What did you DO to it?" Fucking hell, Deanna and George are going to have a field day to find you'd shaved their pet literally within 24 hours—

"That's the way it is. Never seen a sphinx cat before?"

Hes not really listening at this point. Joels heart rate had finally caught up with him as he kind of breathes a sigh of relief.

A cat. He thought you were having an affair with a cat.

"Isn't he sooooo cute!!!" You squeal with little jumpy feet.

But it's not cute. Not with the way it's looking at Joel, with its slitted murderous eyes and pointed claws clinging to you while it hisses at him.

"Why is it in my hoodie?"

"He's cold, damnit Joel even YOU noticed he's naked. Poor handsome baby needs all kinds of love, and sweaters, and warmth and—"

The little sucker is just eating it up, as you babble on about getting it jumpers, and baby socks, and cutting all of Joels sweaters up so it can rest on top of your belly, and a spot for it in the bed—

"The BED? NO. No ballsacks in the bed."

"He's SO much cuter than your HAIRY ballsack, Joel, which as far as tonight, can agree to those terms and sleep on the couch." You scoff him and hold Ramses to your chest, scratching his ears and kissing him as you shove past your husband.

Joel doesn't know what to do. Its one thing to agree to feed a cat every so often for a friend while they're out. It's something else entirely to be doing... what you've been doing.

There's a new amazon box in every hour with custom knitted cat sweaters and hats and ear muffs that you've gone off the reservation with just "needing" to keep warm, now full blown getting an outfit for every occasion. He hears you talking to it like a person, using a baby voice to tell him how handsome he looks, "like a wittle baby pharoh". Joel is tripping over all the cans of luxirous cat food youve been "testing" to find his desired taste. The man can't even get cuddles with you anymore because you're so god damn obsessed with swaddling Ramses in your clothes and softest blankets.

And it KNOWS. The damn cat KNOWS you've completely ignored your ever doting and pampering husband for it—while it does NOTHING but absorb your affection. You've craddled it against your every exposed piece of skin from sleeping across your neck to letting it rest atop your bump. Each time Joel tried to hug you, there's a quick hiss at him and low and behold there's the sleeping Ramses all nestled in HIS GODDAMN HOODIES (granted, that he gave you BUT STILL) wedged between your tummy and tits like a sauna, all curled up as youre talking to it like its a—

Oh my god.

"Are you... practicing—for the baby??"

You stop mid bounce of the kitty in your lap, wearing a matching knitted sweater to yours. "What! No! Thats—" but your eyes faulter to the cat who's just been helplessly going along with your toying. "No! Ramses is just a sweet little kitty who has NEEDS. Poor baby boy is so cold, he needs warmth of a —"

"Mother?"

"MAYBE."

Joel goes to sit down but the cat is giving him a less than inviting glare, so he slinks back to the other end of the couch. "Honey. I think you're taking the cat-sitting too far."

"NO Im not!" You cry. You clutch the poor baby close to you defensively. Why are you crying? I mean, you KNOW why--you're worried Joel is going to take your baby away from you—

Ooooooooooooooooooh. Oh fuck.

You stare at the little lump of skin curled up in your lap, with his collar that says "mommy's goodest boy" and realize how much Joel is definitely right...

Not that you'd EVER tell him that.

"No. You're wrong. I'm just being a fantastic neighbor. And you're being a shitty husband and not supporting me."

"That's a little too far—"

"And—" you interject. "Even if it WAS my baby practice. Which it isn't. You aren't being a very supportive father here either."

He sighs in defeat.

Can't argue there.

so when Deanna and George call to let you know they're going to be another week up North, you let them know Ramses is in good hands.

All true. Now that Joel had gained Ramses trust and had maneuvered the little guy in the new baby sling that you two could not figure out for months, you felt pretty confident in Joel's papa skills blossoming.

- - - -

Joel dealing with Preggo Wife masterlist

#joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller fluff #joel dealing with preggo wife

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thewritetofreespeech · 10 months

Note

Hello ! Can you do a scenario where Isshin finds Ichigo and his O/N loitering around his house and overreacting. And when O/N returns home, he'll give Ichigo a weird speech! Thank you so much

Ichigo gets 'the talk'

It had been a long day at the clinic when Isshin finally came home. Flu season was a real bitch.

“I’m home!” He announced as he took off his shoes. Yuzu’s cute little face popping out from around the corner.

“Welcome home dad! Dinner will be ready soon!” 7:00 on the dot, like usual. “Karin is upstairs doing homework, and Ichigo is in the living room with [Y/N].”

Isshin nodded at the household report, and planned to head upstairs for a quick bath before dinner. Get all the sick people germs off before he had dinner with his family.

Before he went upstairs, he thought he would stop in and say hello to [Y/N]. To be polite. When he walked into the room, however, he was greeted by the sight of something unseemly. His son, canoodling with his girlfriend on the couch just….openly.

“Oh! Kurosaki-san!” [Y/N] said in alarm. Seeing him standing in the door way all of a sudden.

“Geez dad! Don’t you knock!”

“It’s an open door.” Isshin replied, with an almost unprecedented level of calm. “It’s good to see you [Y/N].”

“Y-Yes. Good to see you too sir.” She stammered. Blushing, and nervously fidgeting with her hair.

“Yuzu wanted me to let you know that dinner is almost ready.” She didn’t, obviously. It was the best excuse Isshin could come up with not to leave them alone again.

“Oh! Is it that late? I should probably be heading home.”

“You could stay.” Ichigo said. His hand lingering on hers as she got up from the couch. “Yuzu always makes too much.”

[Y/N] chuckled and told him, “no. I don’t want to impose. It was good to see you again Kurosaki-san. Ichigo, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nodded but looked disappointed at her decision to leave, and walked her to the door. When he came back down the hall, Ichigo caught Isshin staring at him and asked, “what?” To which he got no response and the older man headed upstairs.

The family had their dinner and spent a little bit of time together before they all went their separate ways. Karin, smart enough to do her homework early had free range of the TV now. Yuzu was finishing up the dishes and getting things prepped for the morning routine. And Ichigo was in his room getting his homework finished before bed.

His pen stopped when he heard a knock at his door and acknowledged it before the person came in. Isshin standing there. That same look on his face from earlier before he tossed something at him.

Startled, Ichigo instinctively went to catch it before he knew what it was. When he opened his hands to inspect it, his face went red in both embarrassment and anger. “Why are you throwing condoms at me?!”

“You and [Y/N] are getting pretty close.” Isshin replied. “You should be prepared.”

“We haven’t done anything like that yet you perv!” Ichigo shouted. Throwing the box on the ground.

“That’s why I’m giving them to you now. No point in handing out raincoats after it’s raining.” Ichigo growled at his dad’s typical, tactless way of explaining things. “Look, I don’t mind if you two are…close. But you need to be safe. Your life, it’s already complicated enough without teen pregnancy. I know [Y/N]’s got dreams she wants to do as well.”

“Are you saying kids destroy your dreams?”

“Not always.”

It wasn’t really a tender moment, but perhaps a moment between father & son. Ichigo huffed again and turned to look away. “You’re still a pervert for thinking about it.”

“Someone has to. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t. [Y/N]’s pretty cute, and you are, allegedly, a health red blooded man. Maybe we should get you a check up. Want to come down to the clinic tomorrow and we’ll get you a full work up?”

“Get out of my room!” A pillow flew after Isshin as his son shouted. The sound of a slamming door next.

“Hey, is Ichigo ok?” Karin asked. Coming upstairs with a glass of water.

“Oh, he’s fine. Just giving him a little talk about the birds & the bees.”

“You’re real weird dad.”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#bleach #bleach tybw #ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo x reader #isshin kurosaki #bleach scenarios #bleach imagines #yuzu kurosaki #karin kurosaki #imagine #scenarios #female reader

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luveline · 1 year

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for shy fri!! what about jonathan x shy!reader who are constantly in their own little world? similar to this remus one you did!!

thank you my love! i hope this is close to what you wanted <3 shy!fem!reader x lovesick!jonathan

Jonathan isn't sure if you know how much he wants you. Talking as your boyfriend, you're together, and he still wants you. To hold your hand, or your wrist, your forearm in his hand, your forearm pulled close to his chest. To slide the first two fingers on his left hand behind your ear and tilt your head so he can see all your eyelashes. To pull your thigh over his and feel the weight of it through the whole movie. He wants every tiny piece of you there is up for offer, and he'd feel selfish if he weren't so sick in love.

"Do you want some?" you whisper, offering your box of Milk Duds to him expectantly.

He takes a handful just to watch your face as you shake them out.

"More?" you ask.

"That's fine," he whispers back, "thanks."

He wants, desperately, to add 'honey'. Honey, baby, angel, all those too sweet pet names that'll make you hide your mouth, hand pressed delicately over your lips, smile evident in your eyes if nothing else.

"Welcome."

There should be a word for it, the want to press his chest to yours, to overlap. If he had his way, his friends would fade into the background, they already have, and he'd snake his arm behind your head, hook your neck in the crook of his arm and encourage your face to his neck. He'd dot more kisses than anyone ever has into your crown.

"Are you okay?" you whisper, quiet than before. You've shifted on the couch to get right next to his ear, each word tickling his inner ear with the accompanying breath.

He turns his face slowly so as not to startle you. TV light catches your cheek and brow, illuminating you in a bright, translucent blue. If you weren't the shyest girl he'd ever met he'd kiss you right here, friends forgotten, but you'd genuinely be uncomfortable and he doesn't ever want that.

How to lure you away?

He leans in like he might kiss you, lips a hair's width from your cheek. "Drink?"

"Yeah, please."

You misunderstand. Jonathan stands with your confirmation and catches hold of your wrist at the same time, tugging at you gently. You rise up and follow him out to the kitchen, and really there's nothing subtle to it, nothing at all.

"They're fucking disgusting," Mike says.

Will reaches into his lap for some popcorn and hums, not disagreeing. "It could be worse."

"Could it?" Lucas' face appears between them, leaning down from his seat on the armchair. "Will, your brother needs help, psychologically."

"He's fine."

"He's watching the movie via lights on her face," Max adds, backing Lucas up with a scrunched up nose. She doesn't care if you and Jonathan are being sweet on each other, she cares about being right, and Lucas is correct. "It's obsessive."

"You guys'll understand when you're older," Steve pipes up, flopping into the gap you've left behind. Robin rolls her eyes at him. "Nah, you won't. They're weird."

"They're in love," Will says, laughing like this is the stupidest conversation anyone has ever had.

Dustin isn't one to stay quiet any longer. He wishes he could back Will up. He can't. "Listen, I have a girlfriend, and that's not right."

"You have a girlfriend?" Max asks, voice layered in a cheerfulness she absolutely is not feeling. She's too good at pretending — her tone is nothing less than convincing.

In the kitchen, your skin burns with heat. The door is nowhere near thick enough to cover the sounds of their bickering. It grows louder and louder, the kids debating your love life with a voracious passion.

"Let's not beat around the bush," you hear Steve say, "they're definitely canoodling in there."

"Why are we friends with him?" Jonathan asks, similarly embarrassed but trying not to show it.

"Because he's nice. And he has Robin as an add-on. It's like a two for one."

"Two for one on idiots," he mumbles, offering you a freshly filled glass. Robin's laughter sounds from the living room, high-pitched and breathless.

You smile despite yourself.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan says after a small pause. "This isn't what I was trying to do."

You put your glass on the counter and smile at him. It's not the brilliant smile you usually give when you're alone. Jonathan's amazed to find that, even as a couple, you have a little warm up period every time you see him, adorable, a tinsy bit disconcerting. You can be very cautious.

"What were you trying to do, Jon?" you ask earnestly.

He puts down his glass too. He smiles, breath caught, hands tentative and then not. "This," he says, hands vying for your cheeks. He cups your warm face in his for a stolen moment, thumbs rubbing at the skin shy of your nose, and then one hand slides to the nape of your neck, and the other goes over your shoulders. He pulls you in for a hug, as he has tens of times, but finds himself worrying when your arms don't come up automatically to meet him.

He hugs you a little bit harder.

"Oh," you say, arms circling his waist, half as tight and twice as affectionate, hand rubbing at the bumps of his spine.

Shy, yes, but skimpy with affection? Never. You hold him like he's made of something infinitely precious, soft and sweet and silent, your breath warming a crescent moon against his shoulder.

"You sure you're okay?" you ask quietly, face turning so you can kiss the slip of chest peeking out from under his shirt's neckline.

"I'm fine. I'm good, really. I know you don't like this stuff in front of everyone, so…"

Your face slips down to his chest. "You could hug me a little in front of them. Better that then have them," — you pause, and the quiet is filled by the sounds of your friends' continued arguing — "doing whatever it is they're doing."

"Right now, I think they're debating when you're gonna break up with me."

"Never," you say. It's so fast, your answer. Instant. You cough to cover up your embarrassment and Jonathan has to hide his smile in the skin above your ear.

"Hey, you should be glad," Steve says, too smug, something awful in the way the room quietens to broadcast him. "Better they're too weird to cuddle in front of us than teen pregnancy."

Jonathan sighs, knowing you won't want to hug him any longer after that. Sure enough, you break apart from his hold and take a too fast swig of water, frantic. "Let's go back in," you say.

You leave and he hasn't even picked up his cup. Jonathan presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and takes a 'Don't pick a fight with Steve' breath, frustration and agitation and an inkling of adoration for you all mixed up in his head.

"Where's Jonathan?" he hears Will ask you.

"Practising on his hand?" Steve asks.

Jonathan takes another deep breath.

#jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers x y/n #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x you #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers fanfiction #jonathan byers fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #jonathan stranger things #jonathan byers x fem!reader

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hardboiledleggs · 1 year

Text

Not Sterile, a quick Steddie ficlet

(Tw for blood and mentions of bad injuries, nothing too icky though)

The Harrington’s house looms above a head of dark, curly hair. Eddie jumps, cursing as a bolt of lightning streaks across the sky. He isn’t sure why he feels so jumpy, but something about the house and Buckley’s harried phone call had put him on edge. It isn’t like he’s never been to the house before; every party needs a good dealer. He had just never been without a crowd of drunk teens canoodling the lawn.

He raps his knuckles smartly against the door and steps back, rubbing his foot against the back of his calf and nibbling on the inside of his cheek. The door swings open, and Robin Buckley is silhouetted in the frame, her appearance punctuated by a clap of thunder.

“Hurry, hurry,” she hisses, grasping his wrist and tugging him across the threshold. Her hands are wet, and Eddie gasps as she releases him, revealing the bright red handprint she had left on his arm.

“Jesus, Buckley, is that blood? What the hell are you–“

He’s cut off by a horrible groan. Robin turns away from him and hurries into the house, waving him after her without looking at him. Eddie follows her, trying to ignore the sudden lurching in his stomach. He steps into the spotless kitchen, squinting his eyes against all the white of the counters and the cabinets, and comes to an abrupt halt at the coppery tang that clouds the air. Another piteous moan splits the silence, and Eddie revolves slowly, desperate not to look but unable to keep his eyes away.

The scene before him is gruesome. Buckley kneels on the floor next to a mostly white couch. Mostly white, because there is a steady pool of blood flowing from the body lying atop it. The man on the couch lets out a grunt of pain as Robin laces their fingers together, whispering into his ear and smoothing bronze tufts of blood-soaked hair from his face. Eddie can feel his heart beating in his throat, and he breathes deeply through his mouth as the room begins to spin. He knows that hair.

“What did you bring, Munson? I need something that isn’t a blood thinner, and I need a lot of it.” Buckley doesn’t look at him as he speaks. Eddie shakes his head, trying to kickstart his brain again.

“W-why aren’t you at a hospital, Buckley? We need to call an ambulance, right now!” He’s swaying on his feet. “I don’t have d-drugs for THIS! He needs doctors!”

She looks at Steve Harrington’s bloody form, gnawing at her bottom lip. There is a fire in her eyes that Eddie has never seen. They’ve never been friends, per se, but he has dealt to all the band kids at one point or another, and he’s never seen her look anything but cheerful. The expression on her face right now promises hellfire and destruction.

“We can’t go to a doctor for this. I need help, and you’re it. Just tell me what you brought before I kick your teeth in and take it from you!”

Eddie fumbles in his pockets, yanking out a plastic baggy with shaking fingers. He sinks to his knees, still fighting the dizziness, and tosses the bag to Buckley. His eyes are locked onto the pool of blood that is still creeping along the floor.

“What the hell happened to him?” he whispers. He pulls himself unwillingly across the floor to kneel beside Buckley as she rifles through the bag of pills.

“Do you really want to know?” she murmurs, still not looking at him. “Once I tell you, you’re in this just as much as we are. You can take what I owe you from my bag over there and leave if you want to stay in the dark. Your choice.”

Eddie swallows down the terror that her words evoke. There is something in the air here, like an otherworldly film has settled over his senses. Every breath settles low in his chest like he is filling his lungs with stone. Despite the fear prickling at the base of his spine, his curiosity wins out.

“Tell me.”

Buckley meets his eye, ice blue and chocolate brown meeting in a deadly dance. She nods.

“Fine, I’ll talk while we work. I’ll grab some water, and I need you to figure out how much of this shit we can give him without it being dangerous.”

By the time she kneels down beside him again with a pristine glass of water, Eddie has measured out several hundred milligrams of hydrocodone and lined them up on the arm of the couch. Harrington’s eyelids flutter against the bruises on his cheekbones.

“Hi, Stevie. You ready to take some medicine for me? Can you sit up a little so you can swallow?” Robin’s voice is gentle as she settles herself behind Harrington’s head.

Eddie’s hands flutter uselessly against his knees and she carefully shifts to rest the other man’s head against her thigh. He grabs the glass and shuffles forward until he’s pressed against the couch.

“I measured out enough to send him to Cloud 9 for several hours, but you’ll have to watch him really carefully. I really doubt he’s a habitual pill popper and I’m not sure how he’ll react,” Eddie murmurs. Buckley places a few of the pills on Harrington’s tongue, and Eddie lifts the glass to his blood-spattered lips. When they’ve finished, the man collapses back against the couch with a groan.

“You’m get it out, Robs. Hurrss,” Harrington slurs. His eyes are closed, and his fingers twitch feebly where they’re resting against his chest.

“I will, honey. Just give the medicine some time to work,” Buckley chokes out as she blots at the tears on her cheeks.

Eddie ducks his head, feeling like an intruder into such a pure moment of love and devotion. Harrington sighs, curling in on himself.

Still smoothing the hair from his forehead, Robin turns to Eddie.

“Alright, Munson. You know how weird shit goes down in Hawkins, like, constantly? Well, turns out it’s because the government has been doing super unethical experiments at the Hawkins Lab, and they sorta opened a portal into a demon dimension a few years ago.” She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “With me so far?”

“Government sucks and opens an interdimensional portal. Chaos ensues,” Eddie intones, fighting back a rising surge of panic.

“Right. Steve here has been helping to fight the bad shit every time it pops up in Hawkins again. This time, it was a giant mind-control monster made out of liquified humans.” She wrinkled her nose. “When we were fighting it, Steve got clawed or bit or some shit, and now we have to get the monster bits inside of him out. We can’t go to the hospital, because it’s going to be really hard to explain why he needs surgery on a wiggly bit of monster flesh in his stomach.”

Eddie cringes away from Harrington’s abdomen. “There’s something alive in there?!”

“It’s probably not alive anymore, but I still need to get it out. Will you help me?”

He shudders. His stomach is roiling, turning over and over and threatening to spill his guts all over the already ruined carpet.

“Help you how? I can’t, I mean, I don’t like blood and flesh and–“ Eddie stops before he pukes. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I just need you to help me hold him down. Even with the pills, this is going to hurt like hell and I can’t have him thrashing around while I’m trying to dig it out. Will you help me, Eddie?” Buckley’s eyes are hard chips of flint in her face.

“I can try, but I…” he trails off. “Are you sure he can’t go to a hospital?”

“I’m sure. Come on, switch places with me. You’re going to have to keep his torso as still as possible, okay?” she says. Eddie nods numbly as he sinks into the couch cushion she had vacated. He’s never touched Steve Harrington before, and his hands tremble as he presses his fingers against the other man’s shoulders. Harrington lets out a small sound of complaint, but some of the pain seems to have been leached from his system.

“He tried to do this himself at first, you know? That’s why it looks so bad. He didn’t want to tell anyone anything was wrong, wanted to take care of it himself. Idiot.” Buckley looks fond and exasperated in equal measure. “Are you ready?”

She’s holding a small knife in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other. A chill worms its way up his spine, but he tightens his hands over Harrington’s shoulders.

“Make it quick, Buckley. I don’t want to blow chunks over the sterile surgical area.”

She chokes on an unwilling laugh. “Alright, Steve. Are you ready?”

Harrington nods his head dazedly. His fingers fumble against Eddie’s wrist, locking his fingers against Eddie’s. His heart skips a beat, and he tightens his grip around Steve’s frozen fingers.

Robin grits her teeth. She shoves Steve’s shirt up past his ribs, exposing an ugly, festering gash that oozes and pulses with red. Eddie closes his eyes as she lowers the knife. Steve screams.

~~~

Eddie slumps against the ugly plaid wall of Steve Harrington’s bedroom, swearing.

“We didn’t pop a stitch, did we?” he wheezes.

Buckley’s hands flutter over the stark-white cotton bandages they had hastily wrapped around the clumsily-stitched wound.

“No, I think it held. I told you I like embroidery.”

“So not the same, but whatever,” Eddie pants.

“I need to shower and change. Do you mind sitting with him, just for a bit? Then you can leave and I won’t stop you, I swear.”

Eddie waves her toward the door. “I’m in too deep now, Birdie. I’ll watch him, go on.” The exhaustion creasing her features is clear.

He drags the rickety wooden chair from the desk over to the side of the bed and pulls up Harrington’s shirt, checking that the bandages are still in place. The man lets out a small protest as Eddie’s slender fingers dance over the stretch of bandaged flesh that Robin had sliced open.

“Hey, you with me, Harrington?” Eddie murmurs softly.

Steve’s eyes flutter open, dazed. His brow wrinkles as his gaze lands on Eddie.

“What’re you doin’ here, Munson? Robbie is…” he trails off with a wince.

“Buckley’s showering off the monster goop. You know, you seem much cooler now that I know you hunt eldritch horrors beyond my comprehension in your spare time,” Eddie grins weakly, searching for his famous Munson bravado. “I will admit, though, it kinda goes against my personal Munson Doctrine to admit you might actually be a pretty good dude. Fabulous hair and a selfless superhero? Some people really get all the luck.”

The aforementioned superhero frowns again. “She told you? Tha’s dangerous. Government might be… mad.”

“I won’t tell anybody. Do you really think Hawkins’ resident dealer is buddies with “Just Say No” Reagan?” Eddie snorts.

“Still dangerous.” Another sigh. “Why’re you here?”

“I supplied the illicit drugs for your super sterile living room surgery and was too much of a chickenshit to leave without knowing if I accidentally killed you with an overdose,” he shrugs. “Now I’m in your secret monster club, according to Birdie.”

Harrington’s eyes were already slipping shut again. His hand fumbles clumsily across the sheets until it finds Eddie’s wrist.

“Stay? Don’t want… alone.”

He hesitates for only a moment as something stirs in his chest. “Sure thing, princess. I’ll stay.”

Steve’s lips split into a dreamy smile before he slips back into unconsciousness.

~~~

Ah I do love to write these two :) Might continue this if I get any more brain wiggles about it. As always, I have a permanent tag list for all things Steddie I write that you can be added to if you would like, just let me know. Also, if you're sick of my tags, also let me know no hard feelings :) Smooches my friends

Tag list: @brassreign @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever @spectrum-spectre @vampireinthesun @luna-munson83 @awkwardgravity1 @obsessivlyme @piningapple @steddieassheg0es @gay-stranger-things @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @sunflowers-and-knives @original-cypher

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rainymoodlet · 5 months

Text

Kiss Me in Komorebi+ 🌸

[ First Vacation: Nolan! ]

There’s nothing a massage from a Maxed Wellness Sim can’t do to fix tension!

After getting his things squared away, Daniel and Nolan enjoyed the rest of the night together out in the snow. They talked about their past experience on the show, how it could go differently for them from here, and what exactly Daniel inviting him back means for Nolan himself.

It took a lot of my interference to get these two talking, I will say! Nolan seemed much more interested in the piano and bookshelves than talking to Daniel, who had plenty of Grab Bag whims to flirt and canoodle. They ended up getting cozy and cuddling on the couch toward the end of the night, but I kept on having to redirect Nolan from the books fjdjdj

Let’s see how their second day goes when we return!

Part 3 of 5 🌹

@wastelandwhisperer

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 challenge #ts4 bachelor challenge #ts4 story #;kmik #sim: daniel #nolan langford by wastelandwhisperer #||#i know there’s no real dialogue here but by god were these two lil SHITS when it came to giving me good gameplay shots fhdhdh #but trust me… they Talked and often #its really cute to see how nolan is relaxing around daniel 🥹#he still fanboys and gets excited and tense abt his crush on dan but #they really enjoyed themselves!!!#dan didn’t open up about his past just yet #but he left a lot of room for nolan to talk and tell more about himself #and really let him feel like he’s back in the challenge 🥹

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soranihimawari · 5 months

Text

120 beats per minute

word count: tbd

pairing: reader x osamu// reader x atsumu

rating: t/m for lor love triangles and sibling violence

it's a funny thing, love. this emotion causes joy, anger, anxiety, so why does your best friend's brother stand before you with a soft smile. a warmth radiating off of him when his hazel graham cracker eyes which match his hair dye chooses to take you in, disheveled hair and all, and spots someone who deserves this sort of rendezvous too. miya atsumu is out of breath and has such a cross expression like he's about to go off on you for no reason, but his words fail him the moment you leap into his arms and he catches you.

ok, maybe if we start at the beginning, you'll completely understand why he's there at your house in an unholy hour of two in the morning.

[[twelve hours ago]]

you leave school in the sunshine afternoon of a day. there is a letter that falls into your school bag. a girl friend of yours invites you the karaoke club. what you didn't know was it was going to be a club building exercise between a few single guys from the volleyball club and your jazz band club. your best friend, the one whom you've been claimed to be inseparable since you were seven. imagine the look on your face when you see him canoodling up to one of the other girls in the group at the couch in the karaoke room. it's your turn to sing and you sing" la vie en rose" in a shaky voice. your eyes don't leave the spot on the couch when the girl from your group stakes her claim on with your best friend's lips. if there is a moment in time your best friend could hear your heart snap it must be the equivalent when your microphone drops to the cushion in the crescendo of the song. you rush out, no word or excuse of an apology. the boys sort of cheer on their teammate's liplocked confession, but two people in the room, your girl friend and one other teammate raises their brow.

you're home when your friends the girl who had invited you and the other teammate decides to text you together. both of them are apologizing saying that you didn't deserve it. they comfort you in their empathetic facetime call with you.

"y'know until that hussy kissed 'samu-kun, i thought he was gonna sit next to you," your girl friend from class nods.

"yeah, yeah!" a miya with blonde hair says. he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of the nose. "my brother is a bit of an oblivious dolt."

"a bit?! my closest friend these past three years whom you've quite literally grew up with yn-san and your brother locking lips with the biggest slut of the year!"

"guys, guys," you sound a little defeated about it. "it's ok. 'm sure 'samu liked her too."

you speak no more of this incident, rather after your friend hangs up first, the older twin brother of the young man you learned to like, suggests something gnarly.

"i like you, why not date me instead?" he's still on facetime and he hears you sniffle once, then twice, then he calmly expresses his brother might be an idiot, but for what it's worth: "i can be greedy too."

"but that's not fair to you," you say, all ounce of rationality makes your heart stutter a bit.

"osamu's an idiot," atsumu retorts. "how can he possibly not adore you?...and in case you've forgotten, yn, i've known you for the same amount of time--i've loved you for longer, trust me. i'm on your side. i just want you to win."

you say nothing as you let atsumu's words both stun and linger in your mind. it stirs something ancient in your wounded heart and immediately, flashbacks of your childhood with the twins play in realtime. for every scrape, ouchie at recess, every tear his brother had by proxy caused, atsumu was there bandaging you up with neosporin, giving you a piggy-back ride home from the playground, made you laugh by inserting jellybeans on his canines on halloween thus chasing you until you fall in his room side by side with him laughing into the night. love, you realize is a double edge of sword.

come the weekend after the karaoke mess, osamu and atsumu are rumoured to have an awful fight in the gym locker room. apparently the rumor was atsumu cornered his brother and charged him the crime of breaking your heart and soiled your self-pride. suna has it recorded the moment aran and kita walk in to the twins being pulled apart. osamu has as bloodied nose and atsumu has a busted lip:

"at least i was honest with my feelings ya scrub! how could you not know?!" atsumu's voice is quieter, angrier.

osamu shakes his head. "how can i when ya always make 'em smile?!"

the twins fought about twelve hours ago, but without warning, you awake to a rapping at your front door. the blue light of the netflix show you were watching were now adding an ethereal glow behind you. your box of tissues after watching the latest episode of a popular k-drama your cousins turned you to for heartbreak. you heard a familiar harsh, yet gentle voice you recognize as belonging to atsumu.

neither of you say anything as you pull back the door further, only to glance at him all aglow with a thin layer of sweat in the cool autumn night. it's a funny thing, love. this emotion causes joy, anger, anxiety, so why does your best friend's brother stand before you with a soft smile. he doesn't even speak your name, yet those memories from earlier replay in your heart of hearts you throw yourself at him and his arms hold you closer to him.

"hi sweetheart," his voice is breathy and deep.

"s'late," you whisper against his skin before he puts you back down to the concrete again.

"i know, but i needed to see you."

"want to come in?"

"maybe some other time," he plays with your hand before raising it to his face, which turns into you cupping his cheek until his breath catches up to him. he breathes normally for a few moments, he tells you about the fight word for word.

"are you alright?" your concerned worried eyes search his face for more minor injuries before you relent after he assures you, he's fine.

"jus' my lip is all," he chortles a little. "what's that pout for?"

you shake your head before standing on your toes to have your lips press against his. you don't have an explanation why you kissed him so when you pull away, his cheeks are a soft hue in the moonlight.

"'m sorry, did that hurt?" you ask and before you could receive an answer, the boy ahead of you smashes his lips on yours.

your hand on his face slides down to his chest, clutching the fabric of his pajama shirt the more you let him kiss you; his hand on your waist, the other cupping the back of your head, he leads you into opening your mouth a little more when he runs his tongues over the grooves of your lips. you gasp a little when you taste the mint of his toothpaste and he licks the salt on the corner of your lips from the tears you cried watching another kdrama recommendation (he knows your routine when something heartbreaking happens in your life).

it's two in the morning, you and miya atsumu have since declared that the hour is meant for the romantics whose heart beats quickly rise to 120 bpm.

[[bonus scene]]

you wake on the couch when you feel atsumu's hand brush back your bangs to tuck them behind your ear. it's a strange habit he developed over the years ever since the autumn of your second year.

"morning sweetheart," his hard g's at the ends of his words still cause your heart to flutter.

you, on the other hand, turn to smile at him from where you slept. someone else pitter patters up to you both, the reason why you slept on the couch in the first place and the reason why you have a row in your fridge dedicated to juice boxes.

"papa, why's da ray o' sunshine on our couch?"

"because," you speak up, stifling a yawn. "ya little gremlin took over my side of the bed!"

the kid runs after you made a monstrous, playful growl, and for what it's worth, the faux blonde who gets to witness this exchange the morning after coming back from an away trip with his team, just counts his lucky stars you answered your door that night. laughter fills the halls and they reach an all-time high with atsumu walking to see you scoop up the proof you two have of your love. the tyke holding on to you saying that they were sorry in between the giggles and kisses you give them; your lover in the doorway leans against it, swears he’s never had his heart this full.

“atsumu, c’mere,” you beckon him as the kid settles down and you maneuver your hold on the child to have them on your hip. with your free hand you smile at him when you trace over that small scar on his lip now nearly a decade old. you and osamu might have made up at the wedding shower, but knowing you were always going to wind up a ‘miya’ was predicted by your family and theirs. the kicker was when you stood in front of atsumu since everyone swore osamu was never going to let you go, but he did. that’s the funny thing falling for both siblings at different stages of your life: osamu was more of a puppy-love, yet atsumu, who seemed to glow like a solar flare, set your soul ablaze with the chemistry he provided you.

currently, atsumu stills breathing ahead of you, pressing his lips on the pad of your fingers before your shared child hides his face in your neck declaring: “papa! just kiss the monster and make ‘em pwetty again! ah miss sunshine!”

a chuckle is heard from you before atsumu kisses you quietly matching his lips to yours on this delightful morning.

you whisper, “i love you, g’morning.”

he in turn, tilts your face up again lingering his lips over yours before humming a quiet, “i love you and i will always remind you how you shine like starlight.”

you took a leap of faith when you kissed him at seventeen years old and now? now, the future has been bright ever since.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora after hours #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #miya twins! x reader #reader x oblivious!osamu #atsumu x reader

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jarofstyles · 1 year

Text

Sugar, Sugar 9

Hello my loves! Here is Sugar Sugar part 9!

I hope you enjoy a bit of domestic bliss. Things are about to get interesting 🤭

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings!

WC- 3.5k

Warnings: mention witchcraft and rituals, Harry being so cute it’s disgusting

—-

Wrong.

Delilah’s glare was something to be fearful of and Harry knew that now. The blueberry muffins had barely made it budge. Thankfully, when he popped the iced caramel coffee on the counter and promised to pay for a ‘deep clean of the couch if you two are going to be canoodling on it’, she returned to normal.

Harry had visited the store a few more times and became a bit more acquainted with her as he waited for Y/N to give her readings. She was a genuinely cool woman, and Harry even learned a thing or two. She had insisted on seeing his palms, making him a bit nervous when she hummed, a long nail running over one of the indents in his hand. “You had a very serious ex before. Or… hm.” She mumbled. “Not a good ending. There’s lies in there. You should tell her about it.” Was all she said before dropping his palm and going to help a customer about to knock over a bowl of quartz.

He hadn’t, yet. Y/N was still getting to know him but they hadn’t exactly fully opened up about the extreme details of their relationships. Taking it slow… or something along those lines. Harry had told her he had been in 2 other serious relationships before but one hadn’t been what you’d typically expect. It’s why he was unsure when to bring it up. For now, he was happy finding out tidbits about her as they walked around the thrift store. Focused on her. The current. He had spent too much time in the past, and now he finally had a future that looked like something he wanted.

“This is perfect.” She mulled over the dresser. “For your room. It matches the headboard we found earlier.” Manicured fingers brushed over the stained wood, feeling the ridges. Furniture had energy, and she quite liked the one this was giving off. Warm. Home-y. It would fit the vibes that Harry and her had decided on.

“Whatever y’think, Sugar.” He was a bit distracted looking at her. Observing how she speculated over pieces, running her fingers over each and every one. Some would make her wrinkle her nose and shake her head, a few made her pull her hand away like she had been zapped. This one was to her liking, though. Her face looked it’s usual calm, soft content. Her nose unwrinkled and brow unfurrowed, tapping her nails against it as she placed a ‘hold’ tag on it that she had asked the front for. She’d called it, saying she knew she would find some gems in here.

“It’s your room, H.” Her laugh was soft. “You’ve got to give me some feedback sometimes. As much as I do like this ‘yes, honey’ attitude, it’s your space. Want you to like it just as much as me.” She removed her hand from the dresser, adjusting the tote bag strap on her shoulder. It kept falling off because of her knit cardigan. “Ugh.” The wrinkled brow returned on her face.

Wordlessly, he tucked his fingers under the strap and took the bag from her, placing it on his own shoulder. She had been irritated with it falling off all day and he didn’t mind holding on to it, the beaded stars and solar system needing a break from the pull and slide. “I know. But we made our pin board. You know what I like. And it is important that you like things too. You’ve got a good sense of style, for one, and also… I want you there a lot at some point.” Harry wanted her there or to be at her place a lot. She was already his best friend- mix that with his girlfriend.

He did worry a bit about being clingy. It wasn’t something he worried too much about in the past, however it wasn’t a feeling that he had experienced. Wanting to be around her. Wanting to touch. To bury his face in her neck and be the obnoxious couple in the theme park line. That had always made him cringe- but now he got it. He had a hard time not wanting to touch her, to follow her like a shadow. Y/N was magnetic.

Her face softened as she turned to him, placing her hands on his forearms. Squeezing them lightly, she gave a tender smile as it was obvious his words had affected her. “I will want to be there because you are. As long as you like the place, I’m happy. I just need a bit more input, okay? I can feel you staring into the side of my face, and as flattering as it is, it’s also going to melt it off.” And it unnerved her. Harry was so… attentive. He paid so much attention to her, with a slight intensity that made her feel a bit squirmy. He was also someone who seemed to be trying to match some of her energy which had made her feel a bit off kilter.

“Okay. That’s fine. I’m just trying to be good, sugar.” His fingers nudged her elbows to release her hands from his arms, grabbing one into his own to tangle their fingers together. “I do like that lamp over there. The tall gold lookin’ one. It’s kinda 60’s, don’t you think?” He could go back to his soft pining over her later. She had expressed a wand and Harry wanted to make her happy.

“I do.” She chirped back, happy to see him giving some sort of input back. “Want me to put a sticker on it?”

“Sure. Why not. And that cool marble statue thing. Dunno what I’d do with a giant hand but hey, it’s art right?”

…

“Baby-“

Y/N ignored the cinnamon like warmth swirling around her gut at the term of endearment, slapping her card down on the reader.

“No. You just spent hundreds on stuff and delivery. And you bought me a few frames.” Her stink eye made him snicker. “Let me take care of lunch. I’ll gladly let you spoil me sometimes, but I like some equality. I like to spoil, too. So let me.”

Harry wanted to argue that his girl shouldn’t have to pay for any sort of meal, any sort of anything- but she would find that out later. It was early in the relationship and she didn’t exactly know his financial situation yet, didn’t know some of the things he wasn’t necessarily hiding but not putting on blast. Plus, the self smug smirk that came when he merely waved his hand and opened her tote bag for her to place her wallet back in was adorable.

“Fine. But I’m getting dinner later.” It was lunch now and Y/N had needed a smoothie and something with substance before they went back to his place to prepare for some of the things to be delivered. “And I expect a proper cuddle later too. You’ve been stingy with them today.” The faux indignant sniff was met with a laugh from her, her hand being caught by his as they went to the pickup counter to wait for their drinks.

The shopping trip had been a major success. Y/N felt oddly domestic with him, understanding a bit of how people would say how much more fun things were just by having the presence of someone else. She usually did those things on her own, being joined by Delilah and some other friends sometimes but she was an independent person. As much as she hated to admit it, sometimes shopping with other people was a chore to her. She was impatient once she was done browsing, hated having to go back over sections and pretend to look too while they finished. It was a trait that had led her to believe perhaps she just wasn’t the right person to go on shopping trips with people, but with Harry? It had been different. He traveled at the same speed as her, walking behind and sometimes straying and coming back with items, but he matched her energy in a way that felt relieving.

The smoothies were grabbed, along with the bag containing their food before they walked out to Harry’s car. “I’m excited for the deliveries.” The pink drink in her hand was sipped on as she watched him beat her to the door, opening it for her. He had been highly upset when she hadn’t waited for him to open it last time, so she instead let herself revel in the giddy feeling it brought her. He was truly a gentleman in every sense of the word. A huge upgrade from her past relationships.

“Me too. They said 4, yeah?” He recalled as he took her bag and placed it into the backseat. Truth be told, he hadn’t been paying much attention to what the store manager had been saying when they checked out. He’d been distracted by Y/N and how the light in the store had been hitting her just right. It was almost embarrassing with how taken aback he was with her beauty each time.

“Mhm.” She hummed around her straw. “We have 2 hours to clean stuff up and make room for the delivery. Then we can start setting things up when you get them. It’ll probably take a while for your place to feel finished but at least it’s a start. Right?” Her eyes went to his face as he pulled away from the curb, his hand finding her knee as he began the track back home.

“Right, Sugar.”

——-

Y/N really did love his space. The home was lovely and airy, the exposed brick some of her favorite bits of the house. It had a bit of a mid century vibe to the fixtures, one of her personal favorite design choices that he had said came when he moved in here. It was just… very bare bones.

“It really is beautiful, Harry.” She placed her smoothie down on his kitchen island, arms wrapping around himself as she looked out into the living room. It was very obvious that a man lived here, a man who hadn’t found time to unpack much or decorate. Luckily, Y/N loved doing both things. The nearly blank slate excited her, and the prospect of spending this time with Harry? Even more so. “It’s going to be perfect once you get it fixed up.”

Harry honestly didn’t spend much time at home. Part of it was that, yes, it didn’t feel very much like a home yet. But the other was that he had moved here and thrown himself into renovations for the bakery. It took a lot of time and effort and he had wanted to be involved in every step of the process. Having his own bakery had been his dream come true.

“I can see what sold you on the place, though.” She teased as she went around the kitchen. Double oven, large fridge, a nice stove. It was spacious and had a large window over the sink. Over the island was a hanging rack for pots and pans. “It shouldn’t surprise me that this seems to be the most lived in area.” There were fresh flowers on the counter and dishes in the drying rack, photos stuck to the fridge with magnets. “Kitchens are the heart of the home, Baker Boy.” She sent him a look over her shoulder, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

“Oh yeah?”

It really was doing something to him, seeing her in his space. Seeing her walk around his kitchen, her bare feet padding against the wood. Her hair had been pulled into a low ponytail somewhere in the middle of shopping because she had gotten a bit hot, a few tendrils still framing her face. His eyes tracked her everywhere trying to commit this to memory. His feet coaxed him towards her, reaching to her hips to pull her body into his own.

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p’ of the word, looking up at him with a nervous giggle. It still made her want to flinch a little bit when his hands grabbed at her softest places, so used to pushing hands away or feeling ashamed when people felt it- but all harry did was dig his fingers in a bit deeper and look at her with a slightly darker glint in his eyes. It was a desired look, one she felt to her core. “Why are y’looking at me like that?” She mumbled, placing her hands on his forearms. She hadn’t done anything to warrant a hazy look from the man.

“Just like seeing you in my space, is all. The kitchen, its my happy place.” He released one side of her hips to gently tug the scrunchie from her hair and let it fall down. “My mind goes a little crazy with imagining things.” The admission made her tummy swirl, mind race.. his fingers tangling at the bottom of her hair as his mouth fell on to hers for a sweet kiss that surprised her.

“What things?” She whispered back, feeling his lips still incredibly close to her. Curiosity killed the cat, sure. But she would have 8 more lives.

“Just… seein’ you in here after you spend the night. Bet you look so beautiful, sleepy and soft.” He started, exploring her eyes with his own. They were one of his favorite parts about her. “Thinking about teachin’ you how to bake a bit in here. You look really good in my spaces. Like you belong here.” He felt a bit shy saying it, but the smile that grew on the corner of her lips made it fade.

“I’d like all of that.” She replied. There was no reason to be talking so softly, so close to each others lips- but it seemed like when they got moments alone, they ended up being as close as possible to one another. Like their bodies were magnetized to drift as close as they could each time a door was closed and they could be private. “I am a shit baker though, H. I really hope you take the lead or I may burn down your kitchen.” Her joke made him laugh through his nose, a slight shake to his head.

“I will, but you’re probably selling yourself short, Sugar. No way someone so sweet could be that bad at baking.” His praise made her soften, eyes looking away from him as she finally pulled away and let her head fall against his chest.

It was insane, how quickly he was chipping away at her piled high walls. How he had sweet talked his way past the guards that were supposed to be protecting the barriers of her heart. Harry was stupidly charming and sweet, understanding and respectfulness that it wouldn’t feel real if it was anyone else. She had even tried to convince herself that perhaps something wasn’t right but her intuition outweighed her insecurities. He was being honest. His fingers stroked over her back in the embrace, lips pressing against the side of her head as he let her stay there. It was warm and comfortable in every sense of the word and neither wanted to break it.

“I am.” She reassured against the material of his shirt. “But…” Harry wanted to whine when she stood back from his chest, his hands keeping his grip on her as he tried to fight moving from their position. “I brought the stuff to cleanse the house… spiritually if that’s okay.” She still felt a little shy with witchy things around him

“Oh shit. Absolutely. Why? Is the energy bad?” He looked around to see if he could feel something but he didn’t have the abilities she did, he was pretty sure.

“No, no. You’re cute.” She laughed, patting his cheek. “It’s just something we do when we get new houses or move into new spaces, even just to refresh the environment. When the energy gets… mm, maybe a bit heavy or dark? After a really bad day, a death in the family, loss of friendship or job, or just to lift the mood. But for this its to get rid of any leftover stuff that may be there from the last owner and anything that isn’t the best possible energy. Like a restart.” She stepped from his grip and went for her bag, pulling out a wrapped bundle of herbs, incense and a bell.

“Can I ask what the bundle is?” He murmured, looking over her shoulder as she placed them on the counter. He knew what incense was and he could tell there was a bell but he wasn’t sure why.

“Of course you can.” She smiled to herself at his questions. He wasn’t just letting her do it to humor her- he was actually curious. “It’s a bundle with juniper and rosemary. I’ll burn it and walk around your house. We’ll open the doors and windows to let the old energy out and welcome the good in.” She explained. “It’s a smoke cleansing. After that we’re going to chime the bell in each room to invite positive energy inside and then you’re going to keep it somewhere safe so you can do it whenever you want.”

Harry listened intently, nodding along as he watched her pick up the herb bundle and her lighter. When she lit it, it smelled surprisingly good. His eyes trailed her as she opened up the kitchen window, letting the smoke waft in the air. Under her breath he could hear her mumbling something over and over again but didn’t interrupt. Instead he followed her around and opened the windows for her, watching her smile as she did this favor for him.

He had to admit that he did feel a difference in the air. As crazy as some people may think it was, and maybe he was just reading into it, the energy felt lighter in each room after she brought the smoke inside and let it reach each corner of the room. He noticed that in each room she went into. He caught some of what she was mumbling, something about only positive energy being allowed to remain, that anything not of love and light and something else needed to leave immediately and not return. He felt chills once he realized it, a little nervous but also excited. This was fucking cool.

Once all the rooms had been cleansed she returned with him to the kitchen and grabbed a ceramic bowl, letting it smolder out in it as it burned down. The steps repeated, the bell being rung in each room as he followed like a puppy, eager to understand even if he didn’t quite get how it worked.

“There we go.” She murmured. “Much better.”

“Was the energy bad before?” He asked even though he was a little nervous of the answer. It was a little odd, how she felt things. Harry wasn’t quite a believer but he wasn’t a complete skeptic either and Y/N believed in it, so he would do his best to get it.

“No. It was just… the way I’d describe it is cramped. Like you’re in a subway car at rush hour. It made sense that you probably didn’t spend much time here. It can be hard for people to adjust to new places and it adds up to me why it takes a while for places to feel like home. You’ve got so much residual energy from other people. Now it’s yours.” She turned to him, showing him the incense and its holder. “I was thinking this can go on your fireplace mantle. If you want to, i mean. It smells good and it can attract good energy, but if you’d rather not I understand.”

Y/N didn’t want to overtake his space and make him think he had to do anything here for her. It was all to help but she had felt excited that he hadn’t just brushed her off like everyone else had.

“Oh, sick. Sure.” He took it from her. A gift from her, a reminder of her when she wasn’t there. It was hard to hide how excited he was to have her bring it here for him but he failed when he nearly skipped over to the mantle and placed it down. “I’ve never lit incense before though. Does the flame just go out?”

“I blow it out and then it continues to burn. I’ll show you.”

Harry hoped one day he could have her here to do it whenever she wanted.

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