#She's already over him being here and I live

[usedtobecooler]

live now, think later | steve harrington x afab!reader

a/n: thank you so much in advance to everybody who takes the time to read, reblog and comment on this fic. it's the first thing i've published in close to three months and i'm honestly a little nervous, i hope i've come back with a big enough bang! title is taken from think later by tate mcrae, and a massive thank you to @trashmouth-richie for making my header+dividers for me. 7.8k words.

summary: upon your arrival in hawkins to visit your old friend, eddie munson, his first idea is to drag you down to family video — where you ‘unintentionally’ meet steve harrington. a well timed deal, a fake friend date and a few drinks later, you find yourself in steve’s downtown apartment with lowered inhibitions.

warnings: sexual content 18+ minors dni, piv sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, bratting, spit kink, biting, hair pulling, very poor use of the pull out method. alcohol consumption, mentions of drug dealing and public heavy petting. no use of y/n and very minimal description of reader. eddie munson being eddie munson.

Eddie is all but dragging you into Family Video by your hand, the harsh metal of his rings digging into the webbing of your fingers as he pulls you in through the door.

Eddie Munson was easily the most excitable person you’d ever met in your life, and his sudden enthusiasm to get you into the video store is going to land you in the emergency room, because if he tugs you any harder your shoulder will detach from the socket. 

The buzzer above your head rings violently in an attempt to alert the staff that somebody has come in, and a mop of beautifully styled hair attached to an equally beautiful man comes into view as you edge closer to the rental counter.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie grins, loud and unabashed, "you got that new one with Meg Ryan in it? Heard she cums at a dinner table and lady luck over here is desperate to see it." 

He's sniggering as you pull away from him and smack at his arm hard enough that he lets out an indignant yelp. Your face is burning hot with embarrassment as the boy's eyes dart back and forth between you both, confusion etched on his face.

He - Stevie, apparently - raises an eyebrow at you both, taking in the disheveled and most likely chaotic scene in front of him, "You mean 'When Harry Met Sally'?"

"Majorly concerning you know what movie it is from the description of 'Meg Ryan cums at a dinner table'," you quip, mouth running away from you before you can even stop it. Your face somehow burns even hotter, Steve crossing his arms over his chest with a small smirk.

He's in a preppy little striped polo shirt under his green embroidered work vest, and god his arms are bulging. His skin is tanned golden, a product of the heat of an Indiana summer, freckles and beauty marks prominent on his face, trailing down his neck and dipping below the collar. 

You stare for a beat too long. Taking in the man in front of you, who looks very sure of himself. 

Eddie knows you all too well, Steve is absolutely your type, which makes your first encounter all the more mortifying. 

"It's my job to know all the new releases, honey." Steve's smile grows smug, and it's breathtaking how attractive you find it, "You're both shit out of luck, it's been on rent all week. Romantic night in, is it?" 

Eddie scoffs from beside you, and it takes everything in you to not be offended by how quickly the noise escapes him, "Yeah, she wishes. She's not my type at all, Harrington. Annoying, clingy, pisses too lo-"

"God, shut the fuck up," you're mortified, covering your face with your hands, "I've been in town less than a day, are you trying to get me ousted?"

Steve looks all too amused by the encounter, struggling to hold back a chuckle. His pretty eyes never leave you as he speaks, "Munson's deflecting, I already know you rejected him and he's taking it like a dagger to the heart." 

Eddie points an accusatory finger, "Take it back, fucker. I've never been turned down in my life." 

Steve quirks a brow at him, then turns his attention back to you. You squirm under his strong gaze, "Is that true, doll? I feel like he's lying." 

"I'm not getting involved in this dick swinging contest," you hold your hands up, trying in vain to ignore the silly little pet name that really does it for you, backing away from the counter slightly, "what are we even here for, Eddie?"

"I was just making sure me and Stevie here were still on for drinks tonight." Eddie glances at Steve, who looks as confused as you feel, “You wanna join us?"

You shoot him an incredulous look, "This feels like a set up."

Eddie smirks, "Why's that? Can't three pals all go out for a drink together? I want my two best friends to get to know each other."

You narrow your eyes playfully, glancing at Steve who seems to have gotten with the program, all signs of confusion gone from his face, "I'm not sure I trust you." You huff, turning to Steve and nodding back at Eddie, "What if he's just setting us up so he can bail and I'm stuck with you all alone, Stevie?"

Eddie feigns offense, "Now why would I do that? Besides, even if I did, you're a big girl. I'm sure you could bully Steve into leaving you alone."

You smirk back at him, "Fine. But if you and Steve start getting all lovey-dovey, I'm bailing and leaving you to pay the tab."

Steve barks out a laugh, "Don’t worry about me, I can behave myself. Same can’t be said for Munson, he takes one look at the Harrington ass and loses all inhibitions.” 

“It is beautifully round.” Eddie admits in defeat, hand clinging to his own flat ass, a ridiculously deep frown etched onto his features.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face and stays firmly put as you exit the video store, every nerve in your body buzzing when Steve winks in your direction when you depart.

The black lace bodysuit you wear clings to your curves nicely, the nip of your waist accentuated by your mom jeans. Eddie had even wolf whistled when he saw you, which was his nerdy way of saying you looked really fucking good.

As you pull up to the strip, Eddie slows down to a stop outside what looks like a dive bar, "I'm gonna drop you off here and go 'round back to park up the van, 'kay sweetheart? Steve's already in there."

Your eyes narrow, "I don't trust you, Munson. This feels like a set up."

Eddie holds his hands up, "It's not, I promise. I just need to go park the van and-" he trails off, sighs and rolls his eyes, "I have to go make a deal super quick. Don't want you there for that, this guy is sketchy."

You huff out a sigh, understanding him completely, Eddie really was a good guy who wouldn't put you in harms way. He knew leaving you with Steve momentarily was safer than taking you with him to a deal, and you trusted his judgment. 

"Okay," you agree eventually, making to hop out of the van, "but I swear, Eddie, if you don't come back, I'm gonna be pissed. You'd better be dead." 

Eddie holds up his hand in a scouts honor as if he was ever in the scouts in he first place, and you roll your eyes as you shove the creaky van door open and jump out.

"I'll be back soon, kiss Steve for me, will you?" Eddie jokes, grinning maniacally.

You stick up the finger and slam the door shut deliberately, making the walk around the side of the van before he can say anything in return.

As you make your way inside the bar, your mind races. Nerves and excitement are almost getting the best of you. Steve was just so cute, Eddie knew exactly what he was doing by introducing you both. 

The place is surprisingly cosy, pool tables dimly lit by orange colored lights. It’s reminiscent of a bar from back home, all hard wood and walls covered in various pieces of movie and alcohol paraphernalia. There are people scattered here and there, in booths and at the bandits, playing games of darts and billiards.

Steve's sat at the bar on an old vintage barstool, side on to you. He's dressed in a tight black t-shirt, washed out Levi jeans clung to his muscular legs and a pair of Adidas trainers with green stripes on his feet. He looked relaxed, floppy hair falling into his eyes. 

You were a goner already. 

As you approach the bar, Steve must sense your presence, as he looks up with a grin, "Hey! Where's Eddie?"

"Parking up the van," you smile, taking the stool next to him and jumping up onto it, trying to ignore the way your tits bounce very obviously with the motion, "I wouldn't bother ordering him a drink yet, though. He's, uh, occupied."

Steve's mouth opens in an understanding 'ah'. It was no secret how Eddie made money, and you were sure Steve had to be used to this by now.

The bartender comes over and you order some fancy cocktail on the menu that consists of Coke, dark rum and cherry liqueur. It comes with a Maraschino cherry on top, and you can't hide the excitement on your face as you take your first sip.

Steve watches you with an amused grin, "You look like you're enjoying that drink."

"Oh, I absolutely am," you reply all too quickly, "a day of Eddie's shenanigans are enough to warrant a good drink." 

Steve leans in closer to you, his eyes flickering over your body none too subtly, the charm ramping up with every sip of his Bud, "I think we’ve spoken far too much about Eddie for now. Tell me a little about yourself, honey."

Honey. There's that damn nickname again, enough to make you melt in a puddle off your barstool. There was no denying that Harrington knew what he was doing.

You shrug, going for nonchalant as you lock eyes, "Nothing to tell, really. I work in a little coffee shop during the day, and at night I guess I'm still trying to figure things out."

Steve nods in understanding, "What kind of things?"

You take another sip of your drink, relishing in the way it buzzes through your body, "Where I fit in the world, I guess. What I wanna do with my life in the long term. I’ve been in a rut for a while."

"I get that. Working in a video store in my mid twenties wasn’t really the plan set out for me, either." Steve responds with a furrowed brow, brutally honest, "Has Eddie told you much about me?" 

You consider, "Not really. Just that you're a ladies man and you’re forever swiping the ‘hottest babes in Hawkins’ out from under him, but you know Eddie, he's a bit. Theatrical." 

Steve chuckles, a flush on his freckled cheeks, as he leans in closer to you, "Between you and me, he's not wrong. Just haven't found the one to settle down with yet." 

At the close proximity, you can really take in Steve. He's all tanned skin covered in gorgeous beauty marks, a strong neck with prominent veins, muscular arms but clearly on the softer side like he didn't take it too serious. He was like a Greek statue, his nose like it was carved from the same stone. 

You flush, taking another - albeit larger - sip of your drink, swirling the ice in the glass, "So, do you pick up all the chicks in Family Video?" 

Steve smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "You recommend a chick flick to a girl and it's like a moth to a flame." 

You do laugh at that, rolling your eyes fondly and nudging his shoulder with your own, "That's how you knew what movie Eddie meant! Romcoms are your strong suit for flirting purposes?" 

Steve's hazel eyes run over your face softly, his soft, pink lips jutted out slightly, "Would it have worked on you, if Eddie wasn't there?" 

Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by Steve's question, if only momentarily. "Yeah, I think so. Y'know, if it was actually the movie I was looking for and not an excuse for Eddie to mortify me." 

Steve grins, big and wide at that. Your faces are so close together that if he leaned forward just a smidge more you could rub noses. At this distance, you find yourself being drawn into his orbit, nudging closer to him subconsciously.

"Guess Eddie's bailed on us, huh?" Steve chuckles, moving back a bit and looking at the clock above the bar, the time ticking past an hour with no sign of Eddie coming back, "Or maybe it was his plan all along?"

"He's a schemer." You hum, watching curiously as Steve flags down the bartender and orders you both another drink. You try not to panic about the lack of cash in your back pocket, hoping the drinks weren't too expensive.

As your conversation dies down, your eyes are drawn back to his neck. It's covered in an array of moles and freckles, and you find yourself becoming almost mesmerized by it as he swigs from his beer bottle.

His neck is strong and muscular, tendons protruding as he gulps down the warm beer. The dusting of week old stubble adds to the masculinity of it all. It's a beautiful feature, one that you can't help but stare at with hazy eyes, and the markings scattered across his skin just make it more attractive.

Without even realizing it, your hand lifts, drawn to the smooth skin on the right hand side. You trace your fingertips along a particular set of the moles, shaped like carved out fang bites, feeling the texture against the pads of your fingers.

Steve looks at you, his darkened eyes filled with curiosity and something else entirely. You can't help but blush as you realize what you've been doing, only to find your fingers continue to roam across the skin anyway.

"Is my neck really that fascinating?" He teases, a slight chuckle falling from his lips.

You laugh lightly, trying to play it cool as your fingertips slip from the stubble roughened skin, dancing across the open collar of his shirt playfully before falling back to your glass, "Maybe it's just a bit distracting."

Steve smirks, that look in his eyes causing your heart to rabbit in your chest, "You know, I could get used to having your hands on me."

The huskiness in his voice catches you off guard, and you subtly clench your thighs together, aware of the fluttering in your gut as he leans in closer. 

You roll your eyes playfully, trying to cover your blush by raising your cocktail glass to your lips, "You're such a flirt." 

Steve only shifts closer at that, his shoulder bumping yours gently, "And what if I am?" He asks, lips so close to your ear that you can feel his hot breath dampen the skin, "You're the one with your hands all over me, honey." 

Your breath catches in your throat, a hot spike of heady need and want coursing through your body. It's a momentary slip, one that Steve no doubt catches immediately, "I never said I wasn't enjoying it."

Your voice is barely above a whisper, Steve's close proximity somehow narrowing further as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, "Trust me, honey. I know you're enjoying it, you've had those pretty thighs of yours clamped together for a moment now. Gotta relieve that ache, huh?"

You shiver visibly, goosebumps rising across your neck and down your arms, jolts of electricity coursing through your body. As if Steve can sense it, he lets his own - unfairly, painfully large, veiny - hand run over your thigh, just above the knee. He traces the curve of your thigh through your jeans, barely touching but it's enough to make you ache for more.

Two seconds or five minutes later, who knows, he pulls away from your ear. You gawk, unsubtle, as he takes a long sip of his drink as if nothing ever happened. He smacks his lips together, those hazel eyes landing on yours again, a playful smile on his lips, "Where were we again?" 

You try to play it cool, but your body is reacting to Steve, still reeling from the feeling of his touch all over you, "Uh. Um," you start, making yourself busy by tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "we were talking about our favorite movies, I think?"

Steve's face kind of screws up into a fake 'ah-hah!' as you blindly (and wrongly) fill in the blanks for him, seemingly completely unfazed by what just happened, "Right! You said your favorite of all time was Dirty Dancing, right?"

He’s making it up right before your eyes, playing along.  And it’s painfully unfortunate that he’s right without even trying, guessing your favorite movie right out the gate. It makes your brain go a little fuzzy. 

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. Even as Steve's own godforsaken hand continues to rest casually on your leg, his thumb running circles over your inner thigh, just above the knee, "Yeah, absolutely. Patrick Swayze, he's just swoonworthy."

You say it so casually, as if Steve himself didn't look like Swayze. More James Dalton than Johnny Castle, though. The hair, the tight black shirt, the jeans hugged perfectly to the swell of his ass and the curve of his muscular thighs. You had a type, clearly.

"Don't tell anyone, but Roadhouse is my favorite movie of all time." Steve grins, as if reading your thoughts from across the way, "Patrick Swayze, huh? Your type buff guys with a soft side?" 

"I would've thought me sticking around on this ‘date’ with you was enough of a giveaway on that front." You giggle, finally finding the courage to tip the last of your drink to your lips, swallowing it down in one fluid motion. You feel Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your leg, feel his eyes on you as you pretend not to notice.

You know you should move his hand away, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The feeling of his touch more intoxicating than the rum-filled drink you'd found yourself nursing, the hot feeling in your gut growing and growing the higher Steve's hand goes.  

"And here I was, thinking it was just my natural charm keeping you stuck in that seat." Steve says with a chuckle, running circles around your inner thigh like it's not making your insides squirm.

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your tipsy smile. There's just something about Steve, something so naturally charming that draws you in - he's confident without it being too much, and the way a stormy look swarms in his hazel eyes doesn't help with the physical pull you feel towards him.

The more he touches you, the more he looks at you, the more distracted you are by him. The alcohol coursing through your veins does nothing but amplify the warmth spreading through your body at his heavy petting.

He's beautiful, and you're blissfully comfortable in his presence, comfortable enough that the lull in conversation isn't even awkward. You look at each other through heavy lids, find yourself smacking your glossed lips together prettily, leaning your chin on your palm, elbow on the bar.

Finally, you speak, "So, do you always put these moves on your customers like this? Or am I special?" You drawl, teasing.

Steve leans in, his hand skating higher up your thigh, so close to the warm heat between your legs that you squirm a little, "Only the ones who make the moves first. You started this, remember?" 

Your heart rate kicks up a little more, and for a moment you forget where you are. All you can think about is Steve's wandering hand, the bedroom eyes he's giving you like he wants to devour you in public. You want nothing more than for him to pull you in for a kiss, to lose your inhibition and get lost in the heat of the moment. 

Somebody across the room begins hollering, crashing you back to reality, and it's a sobering reminder that there are dozens of people in this bar, who can see exactly what's happening right now. You clear your throat, shuffling back on your barstool a little, regretfully.

Steve's face falls, the flirty smirk gone in an instant, his hand dropping back down to your knee. You want to throw a tantrum like a little kid, tell him that it's not him, that you want it. Want whatever he's offering, just not here.

"We should maybe call it a night?" You offer, nodding towards the door, "I've probably gotta catch the bus back home, I know it leaves soon, so..."

You trail off and Steve nods, the disappointed look still on his face but a charming smirk gracing it once again, "Of course, I'll walk you over to the stop." 

Steve pays the tab like it's nothing, throwing bills and a nice tip on the bar for the guy who served you. As you leave the bar and walk out into the cool night air, it hits you fast just how much the drinks have gone to your head. 

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks gently, a strong arm snaking around your waist. "My apartment isn't far from here, we can walk back there and sober up a bit? I can drive you home in a few hours." 

If it weren't for the fact you knew Steve, Eddie knew Steve, and he was known for being a decent guy despite his reputation, you'd have shot it down in a heartbeat. But, the opportunity to be in his presence a little longer was something you didn't want to give up.

And, honestly, you didn’t know which bus would get you back anywhere close to the trailer park, not knowing Hawkins from Adam. This was easily the safest option. 

You look up at him, snuggling into him on instinct, "Are you sure? I don't mind catching the bus, Steve. I'm a big girl, I can look after myself."

Steve beams at that, teeth shining as he looks down at you, his eyes fixed on yours, "You might be able to, but I wanna look after you tonight. And besides, I don't think either of us are ready for this to be over yet."

You hide your small laugh into his shoulder, unable to ignore the strong smell of cedarwood and bergamot wafting from his shirt, intoxicating in its own right. The giddy feeling that erupts in you is almost juvenile.

You walk down the streets quietly, taking in the pretty sunset that dims the strip in pretty pinks and oranges. There's a comfortable tension between you both, like you're both attempting to play it cool but the attraction is too strong to stop you from pulling into each other. He never once takes his hand off your waist, and that's a revelation all on its own.

Finally, you reach Steve's apartment, a cozy little bottom floor space. It's minimalistic, like a typical guy's apartment, but it feels homely. Smells like fresh laundry and the same aftershave you'd been smelling the entire walk over. 

Steve looks regretful as he untangles himself from you, throwing his keys down on a table at the front door, "Take a seat, honey. I'll go get you something to drink." 

It's all open planned, the entryway leading straight into the living room, where a simple leather sofa and matching lazy boy sit. You throw yourself down ungracefully on the sofa, tucking yourself into the corner with a leg pulled up under your opposite thigh. 

There's two pictures on a sideboard, one of Steve and Eddie with two women you don't recognize at what looked like an outdoor gig, amongst a crowd of concertgoers. Another with the Hellfire kids, who you wouldn't know if it weren't for Eddie. The lack of family pictures are telling, though you don't dwell on it.

"Lemonade okay?" Steve asks, a pitcher in hand and a few small cups in the other, "I mean, I do have whiskey and beer if you wanna keep the party going?" 

"Lemonade's great." Your voice is fond, unable to keep the smile off your face as Steve sets them down on the coffee table in front of you, looking so domestic it makes you ache.

Your eyes trail over the broad expanse of his back, his strong shoulders in that same tight tee, the way his moles and freckles even continue past the neckline. You wonder if he's covered completely, that same dull throb between your legs returning even as you sober up.

"Stop staring, you'll give me a complex." Steve drawls, not turning to look at you as he pours the cool lemonade into the glasses. You flush warm, averting your eyes. 

He throws himself down onto the sofa right next to you, body also tilted so that you're facing each other, though your legs touch, burning hot through layers of starchy denim.

"I'm sure plenty of girls have been caught staring at you over the years, Harrington." You counter eventually, mouth dry.

"None that looked quite as hungry for it as you do right now." Steve quips, that same flirty smirk on his lips as he hands you your drink, "I didn't say I didn't like it, though." 

Heat creeps up your neck, the need to take a drink intensifying. You do just that, sipping from the glass in your hand. 

Steve's a real handful, and the longer you spend in his presence, the less you know how to handle it. Your body reacting and taking over for your brain, any playful retorts dying in your throat.

"So," Steve starts, no doubt sensing your awkwardness, "tell me. How did you meet Eddie?" 

You pause for a moment, caught off guard by the question, "How did I meet Eddie?" You laugh a little, flippant, "Before he came to Hawkins to live with Wayne, he lived in my town. He came home last Christmas break and we met at a friend's party."

Steve raises an eyebrow, "A friend's party?"

You smile. "It's not a crazy story, just a guy we both knew at different times. We just clicked I guess, we have similar interests and he just has this way of making you feel comfortable and safe. I can see why you're friends, you're so alike in that way."

It's Steve’s turn to blush, a flush of pink spreading over his nose and cheeks cutely, "What a compliment. That's cool though, so you didn't know each other before he moved?" 

You shake your head, "Nah, he's a little older so we missed each other. But, our friend - Carter, told me this hilarious story about how he got kicked out of middle school that I've got to tell you..." 

You trail off, telling the story that Steve genuinely laughs at, this booming, goofy thing that is just so goddamn endearing. 

Steve listens intently, like he's genuinely interested. His gaze locked on yours, like he's trying to memorize every single thing you're saying. You don't miss his fond looks as you talk with your hands, gesturing wildly as you tell the story. 

And then, without warning, he leans in with a strong hand on the side of your neck, fingertips sliding into your hair. 

He gives you enough time to pull back, a moment to say no that you choose not to take. His lips brush yours, soft and tender at first until you're melting into his touch, deepening the kiss with a surge of your body. 

His hand almost engulfs your neck, thumb running gently over your trachea as your chest rolls into his, desperate to get closer. The light smacking sounds of wet lips making you light headed, your hand coming out to tug at the material of Steve's shirt to steady yourself.

Steve's tongue slithers out to swipe your bottom lip and you're a goner, climbing ungracefully into his lap, knocking him back against the sofa. He lets out a startled huff, both hands coming out to bracket your waist when you allow him entry into your mouth. 

It's raw, messy and a little bit gross. Steve tastes like beer and a tang of the lemonade he'd been sipping, a hint of something else under there, a heady cinnamon. It's intoxicating, more than the drinks you'd nursed in the bar, and you find your hips rolling down into his on instinct, desperate to show him how much you wanted him.

He grunts, hands rocking you and helping you along. He's not hard yet, not at all, but the way he's moving your body is clear enough that he's into it as your tongues slip back and forth. He pulls back a little, the kiss becoming light and you let him guide you.

"Sorry, I just," Steve looks up at you with wild eyes, hair fanned out around his face where he lies back against the sofa, "I couldn't help it. You're so kissable, y'know that?"

“Don’t say sorry,” you scold playfully, smirking down at him, “you have my permission to do what you want. Anything you want.”

His hand wanders over your breast teasingly, light touches that you can barely feel through the layers of bra and shirt over your taut nipple, enough to have you arching into the touch in a silent plea for more.

Steve chuckles, deep and mischievous, clearly enjoying how your body melts under the simplest of grazes. It’s clear as day that he doesn’t give one singular fuck as to how desperate you are, pleased and satisfied taking his time with you.

Your hands entangle in his thick chestnut hair, tugging roughly at the root until Steve is moaning, hand faltering to skate down your stomach. Landing on the button of your jeans, but not moving. 

“Steve.” You groan, impatient, “Don’t frustrate me or I’ll do it myself. Please?”

Steve tsk’s, his pearly whites gleaming in the low light as he smirks at your desperation, “You don’t like it slow?” 

You roll your eyes, tugging his hair again, using it as reins to grind down into him, the heat of your cunt enough to have him grunting quietly. “Slow is boring. Slow means careful. I don’t want you to be careful with me, Steve. Show me how desperate you can be, show me how desperate you are for me.” 

Steve’s eyes flash so dark they’re near black, the sweetness still lurking vanishing in an instant. He gives you one last squeeze to your ass before he’s using both hands to practically rip the button of your jeans, fingers slipping into the tight denim and beneath the satin of your panties. 

“I’ll show you, you impatient brat,” he grunts, fingertips sliding between your folds and his eyes roll back at the feeling, “like fucking velvet, honey. You’re so wet, how long you been like this for me?”

“Somewhere between entering the bar and you touching my thigh.” You breathe, crying out when his pointer and middle finger slide into you at once, a blissful stretch that takes your goddamn breath away. 

“So easy for it.” Steve coos, and it would be offensive if it weren’t for the way he looks at you with honey swirled irises, soft at the edges despite the bite of his words. 

The hand not preoccupied with your cunt grips for your throat, thumb pressing into your pulse point as Steve surges forward to capture your lips once again. It’s rough, intimate, the graze of Steve’s stubble rubbing your chin raw as he bullies his tongue into your mouth. 

Your brain short circuits, his tongue reducing you to a bumbling, sobbing mess as you grind down into his palm, clit catching and rubbing against the dry skin in the most painfully beautiful way. 

The air is thick with sexual tension, thicker than the strands of hair you pull and tug at, thicker than the outline of his cock that you can feel digging into the fat of your inner thigh. 

“That’s it,” Steve mumbles against your lips, the pads of his fingertips rubbing against that little bump on your frontal wall that has your hips jumping forward of their own accord, “don’t hold back, honey. Let me hear you fall apart for me.”

It’s domineering. He’s fully in control and you’re letting him as you rut against the palm of his hand, sweat coating your brow as you fuck your hips against him, desperate to reach the edge. 

The plushness of his lips kiss down your jaw, to your throat where he latches on and sucks his mark into your skin. Sure to be a beautiful purple bloom in the morning, a temporary reminder that he was there. You want to beg for more. 

So you do. 

“Mark me like I’m yours.” You cry, whimper, even. Your body runs hot, goosebumps erupting on your skin as your impending orgasm starts to build. 

You swear you feel the smirk against your flushed throat. Steve latches onto you again, this time lower down, wider. You pull his hair, sighing contentedly as he suckles, nibbles at your tender flesh to produce yet another mark. 

His hips jump up against yours, a momentary slip that makes you want to plead for his cock, your brain so fuzzy with the need to rut and fuck that you’re about to give up the orgasm you’re so close to getting. 

“You’re clenching so tight around my fingers, baby,” Steve moans, kissing soothingly over the thumping ache of a bruise he’s left on your neck, “you gonna cum for me?” 

The white hot flashes of want and hunger you feel prickle up your back only intensify with his words, the end in sight as you ride against the palm of his hand feverishly, your clit sliding beautifully over the flesh. 

Your orgasm rips through you like a fucking knife to the stomach, your fingers gripping and pulling Steve’s hair so tightly that his head snaps back with the sheer force. You sob wetly, riding his fingers with jerky hips as he fucks you through it, eyes bleary but focused enough to see the hungry way he looks at you falling apart for him, soaking your panties and his fingers in the process. 

“You needed that one, huh?” Steve coos, mocking you lightheartedly as his fingers deftly slip from inside of you. You try your best to ignore the way it makes you feel empty. 

You nod dumbly after a moment, the whooshing in your ears beginning to fade out. You collapse into his chest with a small, contented sigh.

It takes only a mere few seconds for you to get with the program once more, kissing tenderly at Steve’s mole flecked neck, burying in to nip with your teeth hesitantly. Your hips move like they have a mind of their own, grinding down into the incredibly prominent bulge that rests hard against his zipper.

He grunts, hips thrusting up into yours as you move in some sort of slow, aching rhythm. His wide hands practically engulf your waist, fingertips digging into soft, supple flesh to help you rock your tired body against his own. 

It feels so fucking good, your body reacting to his in a way that was genuinely concerning, the primal need to fuck and have him inside of you taking over any kind of inhibition you previously had. He feels big, thick and hot nestled between your folds through two layers of rough denim, and the desperation ramps up.

You whine, pathetic into his salty, sweat damp skin, “Need more. Need you inside me, Steve.”

Steve groans like he’s in pain, hips jerking up involuntarily like they have a mind of their own, knocking you both out of the rhythm, “You sound so pretty when you beg. I’ll take care of you, honey. Knock you dumb just like you need.”

The sound you make is so pathetic that you instantly bury your face tighter into his skin, fingernails biting at the back of his neck. Steve’s hands are under your ass in a second, gripping to your thighs as he flips you onto your back on the sofa, muscular thighs spreading your legs impossibly wide as he buries between them.

“You need these off.” He grunts, pulling at the baggy denim of your jeans with rough fingers. You barely have the coherency to lift your ass up to help him wriggle you out of the offending material, body practically limp after the bone melting orgasm he just gave you with practiced ease.

“This too?” He asks gently, reaching for your top. You nod, lifting yourself up so he can slip it over your head, leaving you in only your bra and panties. 

You don’t wait for him to ask before you’re unclasping your bra, pulling that off so that your tits are bared too. They look great, your best feature if you did say so yourself, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult decision to make. 

He marvels at you for a second too long, taking in the sight of your body laid out below him, and those stormy eyes of his look deeper yet again – he looks hungry. Instead of it making you self conscious, it only spurs you on.

You wrap your legs around his torso, thick thighs pulling him in until he’s losing his balance and having to lean one arm out against the arm of the sofa to brace himself over you. The gold of his chain dangles close to your mouth, cooling the plumpness of your bottom lip with every gentle sway. 

“Down, girl,” Steve scolds, though that cocky smirk still graces his features and makes him look so painfully hot it makes your pussy flutter, “I gotta go get a condom.” 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “And risk ruining the moment? You’re clean, right?”

Steve nods, that cock-sure confidence faltering for a second, “Are you?”

You nod, biting at your bottom lip, “Haven’t done this for a while, big boy. You think you have the restraint to pull out in time?” 

Steve shudders visibly at your question, a heady whimper escaping his lips, “I can try my best, but no promises, honey. I felt how tight and soaked you were around my fingers, if you feel too good I’m not responsible for the consequences.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it cuts off into a moan when Steve lifts himself up and away from your body for long enough to stretch his arms behind his neck, pulling his shirt off from the back of his head with one fluid movement. 

He’s a marvel. The moles and beauty marks extend the entire way down his torso, even below his belt line, arms sculpted beautifully and his tummy muscular yet still soft. He’s everything, your belly flutters looking at this fucking perfect man sat between your spread thighs like some sort of Greek marble statue.

“Holy. Wow.” Your mouth is dry, your hands having a mind of their own yet again – just like in the bar – and coming out to touch and squeeze the flesh of his torso. Steve smirks, like he knows what you’re so hung up about, arching into your touch. 

He allows you the seconds of indulgence before it’s back to business, his fingers making light work of his belt and jeans as he regrettably departs his space between your naked legs to push the material down his legs and away from your bodies. 

His dick is so heavy that even though it’s fully hard, it doesn’t slap against his tummy, hanging slightly forward with its own weight. He’s big. Alarmingly big. And did you mention thick? Really thick.

God. He was going to be a stretch.

Steve grins sheepishly, settling back between your legs hesitantly. He makes to speak, but you stop him in his tracks; 

“You’ve not gotta be gentle,” you reassure, reminding him of your words before he dipped his hands into your panties just minutes ago, “fuck me like you mean it.”

Steve groans, burying his face into your neck as he lines himself up with your cunt and pushes in with one fluid motion. It knocks the breath out of the both of you for a moment, and you whimper pitifully at the gorgeous, burning ache of him stretching you out to fit him perfectly. 

“Holy shit,” He breathes, panting into your neck, “so fucking tight for me, honey.” 

You preen at Steve’s words, arching into his torso and somehow pushing him in even deeper. He had no idea just how much it stroked your ego to hear those words, no idea that it turned your insides into goo to know you were doing so good for him before it even started.

He rolls his hips into yours, the wet heat of your cunt gripping him, and you pant like an animal in heat when the subtle movement causes the coarse hair nestled in his mons to catch onto your sensitive clit. 

Your hips wriggle a little after a moment, a sign to let him know it’s okay to move, and Steve takes that subtle movement and runs with it — pulling out only to slam back in again, knocking your body up the couch.

It’s maddening. Your body runs hot with want and desperation, insides molding to the shape of his – quite frankly, annoyingly big - dick with each thrust, driving you absolutely insane in the process. The cut head rubs against that damn spot each time, and you know he’s going to tip you over for a second time all too soon.

“Fuck.” You cry, hands coming up to bury in his mane of hair once again and tug him down, “Fucking — how does it feel to be Gods favorite?”

Steve grins, mischievous and lust bitten around the edges as he sinks into your cunt with a quickening pace, “Stroke my ego baby, I love it.”

“Don’t get cocky, Stevie. Or I’ll just shut my mouth.”

The grin turns salacious, a large hand coming out to wrap along the expanse of your throat, just resting and not pushing, thumb caressing the side of your neck soothingly, “Don’t you wanna be good for me, honey? Or are you bratting so that I’ll give you what you really crave?” 

You whimper involuntarily, and that's all the confirmation Steve needs to really drive into you. Your back arches so that your torsos flush together, and he snakes a hand beneath the curve to grip onto your waist from below. 

“Oh my God!” You moan, body jolting at the change of angle. You’re turned into a babbling mess, fingernails digging into each of Steve’s biceps as he fucks you deep, rough enough to leave a mind numbing sting that you swear you feel in your damn throat. 

He’s looking at you with this wild expression, eyes wide like he’s drinking you in, watching each emotion he evokes from you with his body, “That’s it, taking me so fucking good. You like being fucked like a whore, honey?”

You nod, knocked dumb, mouth hung open like a pliant slut, a constant steady stream of whines and shuddering gasps falling from parted lips with each deep slide of his cock inside of you.

“You trust me?” He whispers, lips hovering just mere centimeters from your own, and you nod again, going cross eyed. 

A drop of saliva hangs from Steve’s pursed lips, sliding down into your open mouth and onto your tongue. You cry out, pathetic and desperate as you swallow down the spit like it’s cool water on a hot summers day. 

Steve shudders against you, hips slamming into you as his thrusts become erratic. You pray his apartment is somewhat soundproof, for all you can hear is the wet slap of skin on skin mixed with dirty moaning and pitiful cries.

“You’re perfect,” Steve mutters, sloppily kissing your lips before moving back to your jaw, worrying the flesh between his teeth like he can’t help it, “a fucking dream, honey. See how you’re ruining me?” 

You don’t get a chance to reply before he’s dropping your body back onto the sofa, his thumb swiping over your clit in a desperate attempt to get you there before he does.

It’s all too much. Your body runs hot, static surging up your back, hot in your gut as he works you over. You have to clench your eyes shut, painfully aware of his sculpted body gleaming with sweat, the swivel of his hips as his cock buries deep into you. 

Your second orgasm hits you just as hard as your first, your legs shaking and cunt clenching sporadically as it washes over you like a fiery inferno, gasps and wet cries of Steve’s name and other incoherent nonsense spewing from your lips. 

“Oh shit, holy fuck, baby you feel so – so good, god I’m gonna cum,” Steve shallowly fucks into you, jerky and desperate, “where do you want me to– fuck!” 

You open your eyes within enough time to see Steve pull out of you, sloppily tugging at his cock two, three times before he’s spilling all over your stomach. Hot spurts of it cover you from your belly button the whole way to your chest, and you swear you’ve never seen a man cum so much in your damn life.

It’s so hot. Being branded by ropes of cooling semen, sparking over finger bitten skin and bruises made by warm and heavy lips. 

There’s a long second afterwards, where Steve sags heavily against the couch as his dick softens, both of you panting and trying to catch a breath. 

“I’ll be right back,” Steve’s voice shocks you out of the contented post-orgasm haze, his hand squeezing your inner thigh gently as he gets up from where he’s perched, off in search of what you don’t know.

He reappears with a wet washcloth, and it’s all very domesticated as he wipes you down gently with the cool towel, fingers gentle against your sore skin in a stark contrast to just moments earlier.

You’re both completely naked still. This should be strange, but it doesn’t feel that way. Steve makes you feel painfully at ease and that’s something your orgasm fogged brain can’t comprehend or bear to think about right now.

“This might be a bit presumptuous, but,” Steve hums, inspecting your body to make sure he’s cleaned you down good enough for his liking, smirking as you squirm under his gaze, “do you wanna stay the night? It’s really late and, uh, well I don’t wanna kick you out after that. It was a bit intense.”

Your eyes are bleary. Fuck. He’s going to ruin you for anybody else.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your voice is soft, quiet as you rise from the soiled sofa to sit up properly, “You’ll need to call Eddie, let him know I’m okay.”

“I think he knows you’re all good,” Steve grins sheepishly, helping you to your feet and tugging you close as soon as you’re up, “I might’ve called him when I was in the kitchen earlier, let him know you were here to sober up.” 

You roll your eyes with a small smile, leaning into him with a heavy sigh, “You better have a comfy bed.”

“The comfiest.” Steve confirms, dragging you gently towards the door, “I also have a really big shower, and really good water pressure, so…” 

“Oh my God, I’m never leaving.” You mumble into his chest, giggling playfully when he lifts you up ever so slightly with his muscular arms and knocks the bedroom door shut behind you. 

part 2?

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington blurb #mine #my fanfic #x reader

[craisinsensation1029]

Tri Harder

Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo

originally posted on AO3 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ im trying to stop being lazy and transfer more stuff lmao. saw challengers yesterday and it was pretty nice!! loved the tension

After an innocent party game, Geto & Gojo make it their mission to fuck you. That's it.

Ch 2, Ch 3 (will update links when uploaded but feel free to read on ao3)

fem reader, alcohol, making out, dry humping, vaginal fingering, stsg one braincell activities, NO ONE IS STRAIGHT

5.7k

MDNI

“Seven minutes in heaven? Really?” Geto asked, looking down at the brown liquid in his cup. He took a small sip, grimacing at the taste of the cheap beer. Perhaps he should have brought something from home. “Seems a bit juvenile, don’t you think?”

Gojo looked at the face Geto made when he swallowed, and decided not to fill his cup at all. “I’m not playing that,” Gojo affirmed, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Shoko slurred as she took another swig of her drink. The girl was able to drink anything no matter how vile the taste was. She shoved Gojo and Geto down to the floor where everyone else already heeded her request. Well, more like they allowed her to believe her strength could physically move either of them. “It’s my birthday, this is my party, and we’re going to play what I want.” 

“What’s next?” Gojo grumbled, trying to comfortably fit his proportions to sit Indian style in the space allotted. “Playing Duck, Duck, Goose?”

Shoko slapped the back of his head so hard his sunglasses flew off his face. 

Utahime laughed wildly as he put them back on his face while Shoko had quickly moved on from the act of aggression, whipping her head around wildly.

“Something wrong, Shoko?” Utahime asked between fits of laughter.

She said your name as her eyes continued to scan the room. “I don’t want to start the game until everyone is here.” She glared at Geto and Gojo. “Everyone is playing, after all.”

“We’re playing, jeez. ” Gojo rolled his eyes, although no one would be able to see the act of irritation beneath the shades.

Geto however, always seemed to know what Gojo was doing even when he tried his best to conceal his actions. “Play nice, Satoru. I’m sure this won’t be an all night thing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he groaned, but then perked up. He said your name questioningly, and looked over at Geto. “You know who that is?”

Geto cupped his chin with his thumb and index finger. “I think that’s one of Shoko’s med school friends.” He knew the name sounded familiar, but he never had a face to put with it. “I’m pretty sure she mentioned that they study for their classes together, or something like that.”

Before Gojo could respond, the doorbell rang, and Shoko was bounding for the door. Turning the deadbolt seemed to be incredibly difficult in her already drunken state, so Haibara rushed over to assist her.

Shoko squealed your name once the door was open, throwing her arms around your neck. “You’re here!”

“In the flesh,” you chuckled as you wrapped an arm around her back to give her a small hug. She unlatched herself from you so you had space to step inside. “Happy Birthday! And I brought drinks!” A large blue cooler was behind you, and you reached for the handle to wheel it inside.

“Yes!” Haibara pumped his fist excitedly. “I got it, don’t worry!”

“Yu,” you cooed, placing a hand briefly on his arm, “you will always have my heart.”

“My heart's always yours, you know that!” Haibara answered back excitedly.

Gojo strained his ears from the living room to hear what you and Haibara were discussing by the doorway, but he couldn’t quite make it out. It seemed that you two were familiar. He furrowed his brow and looked at Geto. “How does Yu know her when we’ve never met her?”

“Are we supposed to know everyone Shoko knows?” Geto deadpanned. 

“Well if she’s hiding hot friends from us, I’ll be mad,” Gojo huffed. Geto paid him no mind. 

Shoko was practically salivating at the sight of the unopened cooler. “What did you bring this time?”

You laughed easily and pointed toward the keg in the corner of the room. “Whatever isn’t in there. You know that cheap shit always gives me a headache.”

“Oh, shut up!” Shoko rolled her eyes. “But anyway, you’re just in time. We’re about to play some games!”

You walked with Shoko along with Haibara, wheeling the cooler behind him, from the doorway to the living room where everyone was seated and waiting.

Gojo looked up eagerly while Geto looked up much more discreetly to get a glimpse of you. 

You had on a light purple, bustier lace crop top with the perfect amount of cleavage spilling over the top. Gojo’s eyes trailed hungrily while Geto’s trailed much more tastefully to see the smooth skin of your stomach, belly button adorned with a pink, rhinestone belly button ring. A pleated, denim skirt that was almost too short to be practical sat snugly on your hips and gave way to lush thighs.

“I want to go first,” Gojo said quickly, perking up in his seated position. “This is one of my favorite games, after all.”

If looks could kill, Gojo would be dead. Shoko pointed an accusing finger at him. “ You didn’t want to play, so you and Suguru can decide who’s going last. ”

“I never said that,” Gojo grumbled, shrinking back down.

“Shoko, how about you introduce us to your friend before we start?” Geto suggested smoothly, more so because he didn’t want to sit next to a brooding Gojo. “Well at least I know Gojo and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet.”

Shoko was already head deep in the cooler, popping back up with a hard seltzer. “Oh, yeah. I guess you haven’t met her.” 

You gave Gojo and Geto a small smile along with a wave before saying your name. They introduced themselves as well, and you extended your hand. Geto gave it a soft shake while Gojo took the opportunity to kiss the skin on the top of your hand.

“Great, now you have the burn the skin off your hand,” Utahime grumbled, all but pulling you away from Gojo’s grasp so you could sit down next to her. 

“Will I get leprosy if I don’t?” you laughed, opting to sit on your knees. 

“Probably something worse.” You wondered why she had such disdain for Gojo, but the utter look of disgust on her face made you not even want to ask any further questions. That was their business. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you assured, patting her knee. 

Shoko plopped down on Utahime’s other side, and Haibara pushed the cooler in the center of the circle where everyone sat.

“The drinks are for everyone,” you said cheerily. “Please, take whatever you would like! I brought tons.”

Gojo didn’t hesitate to open the cooler, getting a limeade flavored hard seltzer; Geto opted for a mango flavored one. Nanami, Haibara, Utahime, and Mei Mei all grabbed drinks as well, cracking them open simultaneously. Everyone clinked their cans together shouting, “Happy Birthday, Shoko!”

“Whoever chugs their drink the fastest gets to go first!” Shoko exclaimed.

“Wait, what are we playing?” you asked.

Gojo wasted no time in gulping down his beverage. Whatever game was going to be played, it looked like you weren’t going first.

Gojo slammed his empty can on the floor, beaming at his own victory. “Looks like I am going first,” he said pointedly at Shoko.

“Not like going first is going to make it land on the person you want, idiot,” Utahime deadpanned. She drained the rest of her can and crossed her arms over her chest. “But go ahead, let’s see if the power of suggestion is going to work in your favor.”

“ What are we playing?” you asked again. Everyone was busy gulping down their drinks and declaring what turn number they would have. You hadn’t even taken a sip of your drink yet.

Geto looked at you, a gentle smile on his face that made the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Good ol’ seven minutes in heaven.”

Gojo used a foot to push the cooler to the side and turned his empty can on its side. He gave it a spin, crossing his fingers behind his back and mentally chanting your name.

“Any day now, idiot!” Gojo hadn’t even realized he closed his eyes, but of course no one else would have been able to take notice beneath the obsidian of his shades.

Gojo opened his eyes, and couldn’t help the shit eating grin that crossed his face. The top of the can landed squarely on you. “Was someone talking shit about the power of suggestion?” He cupped his hand to ear, leaning in Utahime’s direction. “Hmm? I can’t seem to hear anything.”

Geto placed a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. “Satoru, what did I say earlier about being nice?” he chided.

“You don't have to go in there with that vermin if you don’t want to,” Utahime assured, cupping your hand in hers. “He can just spin it again.”

Shoko’s head lolled on Utahime’s shoulder as she pointed toward a door in the corner of the room. “Over there,” she hiccuped. “Don’t fuck up anything in my closet.”

Haibara tapped something on his phone. “I’ll keep the time for you guys!”

“I’m a big girl, I think I’ll be okay,” you laughed. “But I promise I’ll scream if I need help, don’t you worry.”

Gojo took off his shades, folding them and placing them in his pocket. He extended a hand toward you, and you couldn’t help but gaze at the length of his legs clad in black jeans.Your eyes continued to trail up, admiring the way the black shirt he wore stretched across the taut muscles of his chest and shoulders. A perfect, dazzling smile graced his lips, and he must have known you would pause on those brilliant, blue eyes framed by icy lashes. 

You took his hand and he easily hauled you up, hand on the small of your back as you walked a few feet to the closet.

Gojo opened the door, ushering you inside. 

When he pulled in the door, even with the shroud of darkness it was evident the space was tight. Gojo’s hand patted the wall looking for a lightswitch, and opted to reach above him when he didn’t find it. He was successful when he found a string, pulling it to be illuminated by a pathetic excuse of a lightbulb.

The flickering bulb cast the tiny space in a yellow glow, revealing a clothing rack stuffed to the brim with clothes on hangers on one side of the wall. Boxes lined the opposite and back walls. 

You took a small step back, and he took one forward. Your back hit the wall of boxes, and he made no motion to shy away from you. Instead he inched forward again, his minty, fresh scent invading your nostrils.

He placed a hand above your head and craned his neck to look down at you. His looks were truly a marvel. His complexion was completely free of any blemishes, and he had pink, plush lips. His azure eyes were reminiscent of magnificent Caribbean waters; relaxing, cool, calm, but every bit inviting and playful.

Gojo took the same time to look at you, appreciating how every feature fit your face perfectly. Eyes framed by long lashes, perfectly groomed eyebrows, a nose so cute he would pocket it if he could, and lips that he desperately wanted to sink his teeth into.

Your chest heaved against his as he snaked a finger into the belt loop of your skirt, pulling your hips snugly against his. He said your name in a low voice. “Tell me you’ll let me kiss you.”

“You can ki–”

He wasted no time bringing his lips down onto yours.

He pressed in closer, resting one of his legs between your parted ones as his lips moved insistently against yours. Not a sliver of space existed between your bodies, and if he gripped the loop he was holding onto any more tightly, it would have broken away from the rest of the fabric.

With him angling his head downwards and you tilting yours upwards, the shapes of your lips fit perfectly together. He was rough, uncaring about the frequent bump of your noses or the occasional grating of teeth scraping against each other.

His tongue traced the shape of your upper lip, then moved to do the same to your lower lip. You could still taste the limeade flavor of the seltzer he chugged down just moments before.

He bit down on your lower lip; the force was gentle enough to be arousing, but stung just enough to cause your lips to part on impact. You moaned against him at the feeling, one of your hands snaking around to grip the hair at the base of his neck.

“ Fuck, ” he groaned against your lips, moving the hand resting above your head to cup one of your breasts. He gave it an ample squeeze as his tongue pushed past your parted lips, exploring the inside of your mouth.

It was almost if he was aiming to consume you with the ferocity of his kiss, each movement more insistent than the last. His tongue stroked yours as the hand that gripped your breast started to move further down your body. His large hand cascaded down the dip of your waist that gave way to your hips. All the while, he continued massaging his tongue against yours, moaning into your mouth while he did.

Your other hand wrapped around his back, palm splayed while your fingers dug into the material of his shirt. He let out another groan, and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue between his parted lips. His hand trailed further down, palming the flesh of your ass.

You quickly moved your tongue against his, the kiss only growing rougher as he hastily dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass. You could feel him stiffening against you through the fabric of his jeans, and you moaned into his mouth. He used the hand that was gripping your belt loop and lifted the short fabric of your skirt, desperate to press his pelvis closer against you.

Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips against you once, and your breath got caught in your throat entirely when he rolled them against you again. “ Satoru, ” you gasped, countering him by sinking your teeth into his bottom lip. You followed this up by sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, and his moans vibrated through you.

He rolled his hips against you again, pulling his lips away from yours to start a trail of kisses down your neck. They mirrored the roughness of the kisses against your lips, and you couldn’t help the moans that were coming out of you. All you could do was hope they weren’t loud enough to be heard outside, or the others outside were making enough of their own noise to drown you out. 

You lifted a leg, aching for more friction. You whimpered when he rolled his hips again, your fingers digging in deeper to keep the grip you had on him. “Shit,” he murmured, licking a lewd stripe from the base of your neck to the bottom of your ear. He repeated the same action on the other side of your neck, opting to suck your earlobe into his mouth while continuing to roll his hips against you.

You panted, matching his movements to roll your hips in time with his. He gripped your ass even harder, his breaths becoming out harsh against the skin of your neck.

“One minute left!” Haibara’s voice called from the other side of the door.

Gojo wanted to make his last minute with you count, he wanted you to remember him. He wanted you to wonder why Shoko never introduced the two of you before. 

With one hand still gripping your ass, he used the other to grip your throat, ensuring you were eye level with him as he continued to rut his hips against yours. “If I had more than seven minutes with you, I’d have you coming ten times over,” he whispered against your lips. “I haven’t even shown you what my tongue is really capable of,” he chuckled with a final roll of his hips.

Your eyes widened at his words as he crushed his lips against yours a final time.

“Time’s up!” Haibara called.

Your chest was heaving as you and Gojo untangled your bodies from each other. Both of your faces were flushed and sporting a sheen of sweat. He adjusted your skirt, pulling the material back down and aligning it so it was centered.

You glanced at what was now a raging hard on before he adjusted himself. Luckily, he was wearing black, so it wasn’t terribly difficult to conceal.

“You two better come out, or I’m coming in there whether you're decent or not!” Haibara called again.

“Well, thanks.” You nodded at Gojo. “I’ll keep what you said in mind, maybe I’d like to see it one day,” you winked, reaching for the closet door. 

You pushed the door open, finding it hard to conceal the smile on your face. Your world was practically rocked inside the closet, but nothing changed on the outside. Everyone was still drinking and making conversation; it appeared another round of chugging went down in your absence, evident by more empty cans on the floor.

You grabbed another drink as you returned to your seat next to Utahime before realizing you hadn’t even finished drinking the one you had before going in the closet. You chugged that one down before opening the new one.

“You okay?” Utahime asked. A lazily smile was on her face, but she still managed to point daggers in Gojo’s direction. “I’ll beat his ass, I swear on everything I will if he hurt you.”

“I'm perfect, I promise,” you giggled, taking a sip of your drink. You couldn’t help but throw a wink in Gojo’s direction, which he returned.

Shoko’s turn was next, and her spin landed on Utahime. They both returned from the closet giggling with flushed expressions. 

Everyone else went, and you had the final spin since you were the last to finish chugging your drink. By now you were comfortably buzzed, and gave the can a spin with a laugh as you waited to see who it would land on. 

It landed on Geto.

“I’ll beat his ass too!” Utahime slurred, leaning into Shoko. She couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Shoko was howling from her statement.

“I promise, that won’t be necessary,” Geto chuckled as he rose to his feet. Similar to Gojo, he offered you his hand. “Care to join me?”

He had an ethereal kind of beauty about him. His hair flowed his inky locks that reached the middle of his back with small bangs in the front and another small portion in a top knot. Small gauges plugged his ears, and he must have been the same height as Gojo. He wore dark denim jeans, and a faded university shirt stretched across his chest. 

Your eyes couldn’t help but trail to the veins on his arms and how prominent his Adam's apple was.

Taking his hand, you made the familiar journey to the closet. 

Haibara was making some joke with Nanami and Mei Mei, the task of being the timekeeper at this point seemingly forgotten. You shrugged, and slipped inside the closet as Geto held the door open.

The alcohol coursing through your veins made your memory a little fuzzy to remember who went in before you, but you were grateful that they left the light on.

Leaning back against the boxes on the back wall, a lazy smile danced across your face. “Suguru.”

He cocked his head to the side as a light laugh escaped from his lips. He said your name, his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket. “What is it?”

You beckoned him closer with a finger. It took all of two steps before he was directly in front of you. “Can I touch your hair?”

“Yes,” he answered. He wasn’t expecting that request, but happily obliged. 

He gently grabbed your wrist and ducked his head to give you better access to his tresses. You threaded your fingers through his hair; it was as soft and luxurious as silk. 

Your fingers grazed his scalp from the base of his neck, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. Geto normally wasn’t a fan of people he didn’t know touching his hair, hell, he couldn’t say he really let anyone touch it, but he couldn’t reject you. Not with the polite way you asked. 

His assessment of your features was no different than Gojo’s; your looks were nothing less than outstanding, but there was more beneath that. Your looks exuded softness, but your eyes brimmed with desire. Maybe it was his own buzz that made him want to please you in any way possible. Your touch was delicate, and he wanted to know if there was anything else soft about you.

Geto placed a hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles into the exposed skin. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“I am,” you giggled, “but…”

“Hmm?” he questioned. “But what?”

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” you gushed. “But I really want to kiss you.”

You didn’t need the liquid courage to admit that, but it definitely helped to speed up the process.

Geto lifted his head, and used his other hand to cup your chin, his thumb caressing the skin there. “I’m happy you said that, because I want to kiss you, too.” With that, he brought his lips to yours.

Geto’s lips felt like a warm caress against yours, his lavender scent wafting into your nostrils.

You closed your eyes as his lips moved leisurely against yours, movements unhurried as your lips massaged each other’s. The hand on your hip slowly trailed the side of your body as his hand caressed the skin of your stomach, igniting a flame in your core. He placed his other hand on the arch of your back, and you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips at his embrace.

His large hands were soft and moved delicately across the expanse of your skin. His fingers dipped into every curve, sending shivers down your spine. Every movement of his hands seemed calculated, and oozed a level of sensuality you couldn’t even begin to explain.

His lips parted as his tongue ran along your bottom lip. You more than willingly parted your lips, and his tongue slipped inside your mouth. The movement was seamless as the hand on your back pulled you closer toward him, keeping every part of your bodies connected. One of your hands was still threading through his silky hair while the other snaked beneath the material of his shirt to feel his defined torso. Much like his hands, the skin there was soft and smooth, but there was no denying the definition of muscle.

He hummed into your mouth at your touch as the hand on your stomach began to sluice down the expanse of your thigh. His thumb expertly moved in circles while his remaining fingers gripped the flesh delicately. He continued the motion, his hand traveling from the top of your thigh to just above your knee. The hand was equal parts warm and encompassing.

You moaned softly against his mouth as the palm of his hand moved to the underside of your thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze before lifting it, wrapping it around his waist. His hand remained under your thigh to keep it propped up, the flame ignited in your core before now a fire burning out of control. He pulled his lips away from yours for a brief movement at the small gasp you let out at the motion, a gentle laugh escaping from him. “Everything alright?”

“Perfect,” you breathed out, moving your hands to wrap both of them around his neck. You pressed your lips back to his, this time tracing the shape of his lips with your tongue. You gently nipped at his bottom lip and started to explore his mouth once he parted his lips.

You could feel him harden with every stroke of your tongue, and the motion of your bucking hips seemed involuntary. The gentle grip he had on your thigh became a hard squeeze with every movement of your hips; the hand on your back trailing further down to cup your ass. He squeezed the flesh in tune with the movement of your hips, but was still careful not to dig his fingers too deep into your skin.

You felt yourself panting into his mouth as the kiss continued, growing sloppier by the moment. The controlled movements of your lips before were nearly nonexistent as you grasped for any part of him that you could get.

“Keep your leg up,” he murmured against your lips. He removed the grip from your thigh and moved from your body just so he had enough space to snake his hand between your thighs. You hitched your leg higher up on his waist and he buried his head in your neck. 

Geto couldn’t help but laugh to himself seeing the faint marks Gojo left on your neck. His friend never held back when it came to self indulgence. He couldn’t blame him, though. He would have done the same if he were in the same position.

Just as lady luck had been on Gojo’s side on his spin landing on you, it was just Geto’s luck that no one else had a turn with you. If Gojo was going to be your first impression, he was more than happy to be the last.

“Mhm, keep your leg right there, angel.” His velvety voice wrapped around you like a bow on a present, and you knew you would fold to whatever he requested. 

He brushed the pad of his thumb over your clothed clit, eliciting an instant moan from you. His lips latched onto your neck as he brushed over your clit again, loving the sounds of your moans. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” he chuckled softly against your neck, letting his lips mark another spot into your skin.

“ Suguru, ” you whined.

“Hmm?” His thumb began to massage your clit in slow circles, and you felt yourself clench around nothing. He barely touched you and your body already felt greedy for more. Your arms latched even tighter around his neck as if you were a koala hugging a tree branch. “You like the way that feels? Something tells me that you do.”

You moaned again as he continued to massage your clit, his lips still working against your neck. By now you weren’t worried about anyone hearing, you were more than certain the game had been long forgotten by everyone else in attendance. Your hands tugged gently at his hair, producing a small groan from Geto.

“Let’s see just how much you like this.” His voice was muffled against your neck. You didn’t have a chance to respond before two slender fingers were pushing the fabric of your underwear aside, running over your slick center. “Quite a bit, it seems,” he mumbled, letting his fingers run over your heat again. 

Geto could feel himself growing harder just knowing how wet you were; just imagining how you would feel enveloping his fingers, inviting him in. Perhaps he wasn’t very different from Gojo at all when it came to self indulgence. He kept his thumb firmly pressed against your clit as he slowly pushed his fingers inside of you.

You welcomed his fingers, clenching around them as you struggled to keep your leg in its lifted position. He let out a groan of satisfaction as he slowly plumped the digits in and out of you, taking his time to reach that spongy spot with each plunge of his fingers. 

“Hey! Who’s keeping time!” Gojo’s voice sounded loudly beyond the closet door. “I’m sure it’s been more than seven minutes!”

“Should we– Ah! ” Geto’s fingers stayed plunged inside of you as he kept his fingers curled against your g-spot. 

Erection pressed firmly against your grounded thigh, he paid Gojo’s voice no mind as his thumb pressed harder against your clit. “Just focus on me, angel. They’re fine out there.”

His voice was dizzying as his fingers worked on the continuous ministrations of stimulating your clit and g-spot. Your breaths were coming out in harsh pants and your thigh was aching, but you were determined to keep it upright as you felt yourself coming closer to orgasm.

“You’re so close,” he murmured. “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ye–”

“Don’t tell me you’re all just going to ignore me.” Geto’s fingers moved quicker. “Fine. I’m telling them to get the fuck out.”

One final motion, and you drenched his fingers, the excess dripping down your thighs and soaking the crotch of your underwear. 

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before the closet door swung open. You hastily put your leg down while Geto made no movement.

“Satoru.” His voice was light, almost playful. His fingers were still inside of you, hand now sandwiched between your thighs. He pulled them out slowly before removing his head from the crook of your neck, turning it to face Gojo. “Is something wrong?”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Gojo groaned. “Maybe the fact that the game is called seven minutes in heaven and you guys have been in here for hours. ”

“I see.” He whipped his head back around and removed his other hand from the grip it had on your ass as he took a step back. “Didn’t mean to break any rules, of course. We’ll be out in a moment.”

Gojo closed the closet door with a huff, and you released a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“Was he… upset?” He wouldn’t have a reason to be, would he? This was just a silly little party game after all.

A small smile crept onto Geto’s face. “Not at all.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Don’t you worry about a thing, angel. He’s perfectly fine.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, focus now shifted to your still trembling legs. You straightened your skirt and gave Geto a sheepish smile. “That was… fun. Thanks.”

“Thank you. ” A small smirk danced over his lips as he adjusted him, striding over to the door. He opened it, gesturing for you to step out first.

Gojo was already sitting back down, poking fun at a now very drunk Shoko. Utahime was trying to tell, or rather scold him about something, but she was just as trashed, none of her words the least bit intelligible.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you rejoined them, going for another drink yourself. You wondered how long you were actually in the closet with Geto, but paid it no mind as you enjoyed the rest of the night.

A few hours later, Haibara, Nanami, Mei Mei, Gojo, and Geto started making their way out. Shoko and Utahime were already fast asleep on the couch, and you decided to sleep over. They would probably need to be nursed back to health in the morning.

“Does anybody need help calling an Uber or anything?” you asked.

“Already called one for Yu and I,” Nanami answered. “Should be here in a few minutes.”

“My brother is going to pick me up,” Mei Mei responded.

You nodded at both of them and looked toward Geto and Gojo.

“We don’t live too far, we’re good to walk home,” Geto answered, seemingly for himself and Gojo.

Nanami, Haibara, and Mei Mei all got into their respective rides, leaving the tall pair of friends left.

You flashed them both a smile as you walked them to the door. “It was great meeting both of you.” A part of you felt like you should have been swimming in some kind of guilt, but you were really swelling with pride. They were both too attractive for their own good, and surely they knew that. “I hope we get to see each other again, sometime.”

“I’m sure we will,” Gojo assured, a sly smile playing on his lips.

“Good night, angel.” 

They made their way out the door, and you locked it behind them.

Gojo shoved his hands in his pockets as he and Geto began the short walk back to their apartment. Only lamp posts and the occasional passing car provided any illumination.

“I’m mad.” 

“Oh?” Geto questioned.

“Shoko hid a hot friend from us.”

Light laughter escaped from Geto’s lips. “That, she did.”

Gojo stopped his pace, turning to look at Geto. “So what did you guys do?”

Geto laced his fingers, lazily placing them behind his head as he stopped as well to look at Gojo. “I could ask the same, but I already know you went all Dracula on her neck.”

Gojo scoffed. “Well unlike someone, I was adhering to the time limit.”

“Not my fault no one wanted to keep time anymore when it was her turn,” Geto shrugged in response. “I was just making her feel good, that’s all.”

A white eyebrow cocked. “Did you make her come?”

Another shrug from Geto. “I had the time to, why wouldn’t I?”

“ What? ” A pout formed on Gojo’s lips. “That’s not even fair!”

Geto unlaced his fingers from his head and waved the two fingers that were inside of you in front of Gojo’s face. “If you get close enough, maybe you can still smell her.” He wiggled his fingers again. “You can even lick them, if you want.”

Blue eyes turned into icy slits. “What am I, a dog? ” He took a step closer and smelled the offered fingers anyway. “And angel? What the fuck was that all about?”

“Cute lil’ nickname.” He shrugged again. “Just seemed fitting at the moment.”

Gojo groaned and threw his head back. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We’re literally never thinking the same thing,” Geto deadpanned.

Blue eyes threatened to get stuck in the back of Gojo’s skull from how hard he rolled them. “Whatever. I say we go for it.”

“Hmm.” Geto nodded thoughtfully. “I guess this is a rare occurrence where we are sharing a brain cell.” He tapped his chin. “Think she’d want to?”

Gojo threw his arms around his best friend’s shoulder. “Oh, come on. It’s us. Not a chance the answer is no.”

ill upload ch 2 and 3 later lmao

#stsg x reader #goge x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto smut #geto x reader #suguru x reader #ebs writes

[dreamescapeswriting]

Awaiting Miracles ~ BC [MATURE WARNING]

WORD COUNT: 1.5K

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

GENRE: after babysitting the couple want a baby, cute, established relationships, SMUT MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, Needy chan, Breeding kink, pregnacy tropes

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

As midnight draped its comforting veil over the world, you and Chan found yourselves in the peaceful embrace of your cosy living room. Lily, Felix's precious baby, nestled in your arms, her soft coos breaking the silence like delicate melodies. It had been a long day of trying to get into the swing of looking after a baby but you and Chan had gotten into the swing of it and you thought you were nailing it now.

Maybe it helped that Felix and Lyla had left you step-by-step instructions on everything that you needed to do with his daughter and you understood why. It was the first time he would be leaving his daughter and he was nervous about it - as any new parents would be.

"Sleeping angel," You whispered, running your finger over Lily's cheeks and smiling to yourself getting lost in your own thoughts. 

Before, you hadn't really thought of yourself as a family kind of person but as you sat here with Chan you couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was your daughter - or son - that you were holding. 

Chan stole a glance at you, his heart swelling with an emotion that felt too big for his chest. For a while, he'd been wanting to talk to you about having kids of your own and this was giving him the final push to do so. 

"You're incredible with her, you know," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips as you slowly walked over to the travel cot and laid her down, smiling at her before you looked up, your eyes glowing with warmth. 

"It's easy when she's this adorable," You replied, gently rocking the travel cot back and forth. Chan chuckled softly, moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind, leaving a gentle kiss on your shoulder as you felt your body heating up. 

"I think it's more than that," he said, his voice laced with admiration. "You have this... way about you. You make it seem effortless." If your body wasn't hot before it was practically burning fire now from the comment and you ducked your head a little.

"I just love babies," you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. Chan reached out, tracing the curve of your cheek with his fingertips.

"And I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Your gaze met his, your eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion, it was obvious that the two of you were thinking the same thing about having one of your own. 

"I love you too," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. Chan smirked to himself as he ran his hand over your lower back, just enjoying being close to you like this. 

The next night the two of you were cuddled in bed, your head laying on Chan's shoulder when you noticed he was acting a little weird and had been ever since the two of you had been alone. He was touching you more and whimpering whenever you would kiss his chest or shoulder, the two places that turned him on. 

"Channie," You whisper, running your fingers over his chest and smirking to yourself. All of this had started after Lily had gone back home and you knew what it meant, you knew he wanted a child just as much as you did.

"Yeah?" He quizzed, his cheeks blushing deeply, you looked up at him before kissing him softly, moving to sit on his lap. You whimper a little grinding down against his already hard dick, you knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him. 

"Yn..." Chan breathed out, he'd been needy all day and he knew you could feel how hard he was under his shorts, how badly he wanted you. Your lips smirked against his as you grind down on him, earning a moan from him as his hands tightened around your waist. 

Your kiss grew more passionate, your hands roaming over his naked chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips and you ran your hand over his abs, making him blush deeper. Small moans came from him as you continued to rock your hips against him, 

"I want you to cum inside of me," You whisper in his ear, biting down on his ear as his hips jerk upward a little, his eyes widening.

"W...What?" He groans, his eyes rolling back a little as you continue to roll your hips against him,

"I need you to fill me up Channie. I need you to get me pregnant." You whimper, your voice is seductive as you slow your hips down against his, his hands clutching onto you tightly as he wordlessly nods his head, struggling to find the words to continue. 

"I need you now," You told him as you stripped your shirt from over your head, Chan's hands instantly went to your breasts pulling on them before he wrapped his mouth around one, sucking softly. Your head rolls back softly, only Chan could make you this needy for him with something as simple as sucking your breasts, he was the only person you got sensitive for. 

"Chan," You moan out, rolling your hips down. You wanted him badly, you didn't want to be teased you just needed him inside of you right away. 

The two of you quickly undressed until you were naked, you carefully made your way back onto his lap and lined his cock up with your entrance, smirking as you saw just how brightly he was blushing.

"Please...P...Please Yn, I need you, I need this," He begged desperately as you slowly sunk down onto him, inch by torturous inch, your moans growing louder as you sunk all the way down onto him. 

"Fuck," You whimper, your head resting on Chan's as he held you, licking his lip slowly as he resisted the urge to cum right there and then.

"I need your cum, Channie. Need it so bad," You whimper to him, rocking slowly back and forth on him as he screwed his eyes shut. 

"S-Shit baby...P-Please, I- I can't last long if you keep saying things like that," He moans, you smirk at him a little. You didn't care how long he lasted, you enjoyed that he was this needy for you, and it somehow got you off on that fact.

 You didn't give him what he wanted though as you started to bounce up and down on his cock, your moans growing louder as Chan rolled his head back against the headboard, his teeth sinking down into his teeth as he whimpered a little. 

"Need you to breed me, Channie. Please, I wanna be so full." That was the straw that broke the camel's back as Chan couldn't stop himself: as soon as he heard the words come from you he was done for. You continued to ride him, moaning his name out as you reached down to rub your clit. The rush of euphoria was too strong for you to ignore any longer as you came, clenching around him tightly causing his hips to buck, pushing into you even deeper as his cock twitched and he groaned. 

"F-Fuck," He breathes out, his chest rising and falling so fast as you laid down against him, whimpering as you stayed perfectly still on him. 

"If it doesn't work at least we'll have fun practising," You giggled at him, making his cheeks flame. 

As the moments stretched into eternity, you and Chan found yourselves huddled together in the bathroom, your hearts pounding with anticipation. It had been a few months of trying to get pregnant and this was yet another test you were taking together. It didn't matter how many you took the wait always seemed to be longer than normal. You clutched the pregnancy test tightly in your trembling hands, your breath caught in your throat as you waited.

Chan wrapped his arms around you, his touch a reassuring anchor in the sea of uncertainty. Ever since you'd started trying he had been there with every test, bringing you new ones, different brands, whatever you needed he was there.

"Whatever happens, we're in this together," he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the tense silence. "We'll keep trying, no matter what."

You nodded, your eyes brimming with tears of hope and fear, you didn't want it to be negative, you liked practising with Chan but you wanted your family to start. 

"I know," you whispered, your voice trembling a little as you tried to think of what you could say. You'd been wondering if it was your fault you weren't pregnant yet. Maybe there was something wrong with you. 

"But what if..." Before you could finish your sentence, your gaze fell upon the small plastic stick in your hand, and your heart skipped a beat. With trembling hands, you turned it over, your breath catching in your throat as you read the unmistakable words:

Pregnant.

Tears of joy streamed down your cheeks as you looked up at Chan, your heart overflowing with love. 

"Channie," you whispered, your voice filled with wonder, "it's positive." Chan's eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the joyful news, his heart swelling with a mixture of elation and disbelief. 

"Really?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with joy. "We're going to be parents?" You nodded, your face radiant with happiness. 

"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling with excitement as you stared up at him. "We're going to have a baby."

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @piercedddriver

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #bang chan smut #chan #chan x reader #chan imagine #chan imagines #chan smut

[gardengirl222]

i just had this thought of yapper!gf being taken on a fishing trip with jj and him getting frustrated because she’s scaring off the fish and then she gets annoyed back at him 😩😩😩

lol soooo cuteee! ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ yapper!gf x jj

jj had been planning to go on a little fishing trip for a few days now, but because you've been dragging him around town he hadn't gotten a chance to. but today was the day, and because you go with him everywhere, he let you come with him. 

"are we going to have some lunch after this?" you ask hand in hand with your boyfriend as he leads you to the HMS pogue. 

"are you hungry already? didn't you just have some ice cream?" 

"that was a snack jj, are we going to eat the fish? if you catch any i mean." you giggle, looking up at him through your lashes. 

"whaddia mean if, when. when i catch some." he corrects.

"right of course! what am i supposed to do then, help you fish?"

"juuus' relax, i provide the sustenance while you sit there n'look pretty." he jokes, lifting his hand to help you get on the boat. 

as you arrived at the spot, the tranquil waters stretched out before you, jj wasted no time in setting up his fishing rods. you sit at the edge of the boat and wait patiently watching your boyfriend flip his hat around. 

"its really sexy when you do that." you smile up at him, covering the sun with your hand. 

"what? flippin' my hat backward?" he grins, turning back to look at you.

you nod and turn back to look at the water, leaning against the edge to see if you could spot any fish. 

"its really nice out...i saw this thing that um- that said, would you sell your boyfriend to make your dog live forever? and i thought about it, i would." 

he scoffs and leans back to do whatever people do when trying to reel in a fish. 

"we don't even have a dog!"

"i know, but it's the principle!" you argue back, dipping your hand into the water and swishing it around.

"you're scarin' the fish away dude! c'mon sit down." he snaps his fingers at you making you glare at him and sit back in the middle of the boat. 

 "i was just checking the temperature." you shrug with a small smile, but jj wasn't amused. 

"nough' of that and you yapping my ear off, like i love you babe, but next time bring a book or a crossword puzzle or something...." jj huffs and baits his hook and casts his line once more. 

pissed at him you decide to give him the silent treatment and pretend he isn't even there. 

after some time, in silence, jj starts to feel a little guilty but then he hears you again.

"i shoulda' pushed you in the water." you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, just couldn't stay quiet for much longer. "alright alright, come help me, i'll teach you how to do this." he laughs, offering his hand to help you up. rolling your eyes to take hold of his hand as he pulls you up and stands behind you, placing the fishing rod in your hands and wrapping his own hands around yours to help with guidance. 

"swing it back aaaand- wait." he lets go of your hands to let you try being in control and stands beside you with his hands on his hips. in no time a fish was pulling at the hook, jj boyishly excited for you, telling you to reel it in. you try your best to be fast and get the fish out of the water. 

"that's what im talkin' about baby, atta girl!" he cheers and takes hold of the fishing rod for you, grabbing onto the fish, and placing it in a bucket. 

"i can't believe i got a fish!" you squeal, turning over to him with a smile. 

"come here..." he beams and grabs onto your face with two hands to press a bunch of sweet annoying little kisses on your cheeks. 

"nooo! you touched the fish! and i'm still pissed at you." you scrunch your face up but that only makes him wrap his arms around your waist and lift you up like a doll with your hands on his shoulders. 

"gimme a kiss, and then we'll call it a day, yeah?" he squints his eyes and tilts his head, you roll your eyes and nod. wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in to give him a proper kiss. 

once satisfied, your boyfriend sets you down with a smile. 

"alright. let's get outta here." he spins you around and smacks your ass playfully. ᥫ᭡

#lenepilar'sobx!⋆₊ ⊹ #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank thoughts #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #jj maybank

[lilasamaaa]

In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it. 

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot. 

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person. 

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment."

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, but I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

[holdmytesseract]

Hi love i wanted to request a drabble/blurb with tom hiddleston where he is getting ready with his pregnant wife for an event and she says something like i look like a whale or huge.....

Some reassurance, comfort and implied smut!!!!!!!

Nothing Less Than A Goddess

Tom Hiddleston x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: pregnancy stuff, insecurities, fluff, tiny bit suggestive smut

Word Count: blurb

a/n: Thank you for that sweet request, nonny! I hope you like what I came up with! 🤗

P.S. This gif is how I imagined him to look in that oneshot. 👀

You stood in the bedroom in your underwear, after just having stepped out of the shower. "Love, are you ready soon? Luke will be here in about twenty minutes." You heard your husband call out for you, from which you presumed to be the kitchen or living room.

"Umm, yeah, I, uh, need to get dressed and perhaps put on a little make-up, but beside that..." An answer came immediately. "Shall I help you, darling? Or do you get along alone?"

You wanted to think about Tom's offer for a moment, but your mouth was faster than your brain. "Yes, please!"

"Alright! Just let me take off my suit jacket and shoes again!"

Now you kind of had a guilty conscience.

"Babe, you don't have to get halfway undressed just to help-" But it was, of course, already too late. Tom appeared no minute later in the bedroom, just in a navy blue shirt and tie, matching navy blue suit trousers and - black socks. "Yes, I have to, darling. No excuses. It's my obligation to help you," Tom stated, while making his way over to you and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek; palms came to rest on your six-month baby bump. "After all, I'm this little bean's dad," he announced; wearing one of his dazzling smiles.

Well, that was true. He had a point.

You couldn't help but smile and placed your forearms on his shoulders; fingers buried in his long blond-brown locks. "Okay," you said; nodding. "Thank you." Tom smiled even wider and turned his head to press a soft kiss against the bare skin of your arm; his scruff slightly tickling and scratching you.

"Now, let me help you." You nodded and turned to pick up your matching white dress from the bed. Tom being the gentleman and caring husband he was, helped you even to step inside; making sure that you didn't lose your balance. Then he zipped the zipper of the dress up; warm fingertips brushing your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Once you were fully dressed, you took a look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The dress was new. You had never worn it before. How could you, with the steadily growing baby within your womb? Impossible. That dress would fit you probably not even a month...

"And?" Tom stepped behind you; hands on your hips and pulling you against your chest. "What do you think?"

You bit your lip; giving yourself a once-over. You gently turned from side to side in his embrace; getting a look from each angle. "I-I, uh, I honestly don't know, Tommy... I mean, I like the dress. It's beautiful, but..." "But?"

You sighed; knowing that lying to your husband wouldn't work. "I... I feel like I look like a whale. I-I mean, I am huge..." You swallowed hard; feeling very insecure all of a sudden.

Behind you, Tom blinked in disbelief. "Apologies... What did you just say, darling?" "That, uh, that I look like a... whale..." Your voice was barely above a whisper. The words hadn't even left your lips entirely, when the Brit started to shake his head. "Oh, no, no, Mrs. Hiddleston. I see what you're doing - and it's not good. I won't let you walk down that dark path."

Tom turned you gently in his embrace; pointer finger and thumb cupping your chin. "Look at me, darling." You complied; your eyes meeting his stunning ones. "You are neither huge nor do you look like a whale. Do I need to remind you that you are pregnant and that it's more than normal for your body to change?" "Y-Yes, but-"

"Ah.Ah," Tom interrupted you immediately. "Apologies, darling, but no. No buts. If you are anything, then beyond beautiful. Stunning. The prettiest woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Nothing less than a goddess." You gasped; feeling your heart skip a few beats. "A-A goddess?"

Tom nodded. "A goddess, yes. Your skin is glowing. You look more radiant than ever. Your curves are..." He took a short break; licking his lips and swallowing hard. "...absolutely delicious. Drop-dead sexy. To me, Y/N, you are even more attractive than you've already been. I can't take my eyes off you. Especially not since your pregnancy really started to show."

You were kind of overwhelmed by his words; not having expected this. "Y-You really think that?" You asked; still a bit uncertain.

Tom smiled; his other hand giving your hip a soft squeeze. "Darling, would I ever lie to you?"

Your eyes widened. "N-No! Of course not!" He kissed your forehead. "See?"

You blushed.

"Now do you believe me, or do I have to show you how much I desire your body, once we get back home tonight?"

You wetted your lips; suddenly feeling bold. Tom's words had finally gotten through. Especially the last ones.

"Hmm, perhaps, you should yes," you answered; hand playing with his tie. Tom chuckled darkly; his hand on your hip sliding down to give your ass a small, playful slap. "Gladly."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger

#campfire sleepover #2k follower celebration #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x pregnant reader

[mm-lurking]

MAY I REQUEST FOR ANGST POOKS 😘😝 MYBE ABT BRINGING UP THEIR DEAD EX BY ACCIDENT DURING AN ARGUEMENT? THERES RARELY ANY ANGST IM GETTING MAD 👹

I saw your ask at 11 pm and something about the way you wrote your request made me giggle so hard idk why 🤣 Since you demand angst I shall give it to you. You’re my first ask btw so thank you very much! 

I’m not sure which character you wanted me to write for so I’m going to go for Blade and Aventurine. Though feel free to send me specific characters through the ask again!

Warnings: no fluff at all, pure angst, fem! reader and ex, reader has no chill running her mouth, Aventurine’s kinda feels ooc sorry about that WC: 1881

Blade

You were a hair’s breadth away from being gravely injured. If it weren’t for Blade’s interruption you would have been Antimatter Legion dinner tonight. In your eyes you weren’t in that much danger, you knew you could handle it on your own but in Blade’s eyes, it was just another flashback to how he lost her. It felt frustrating to watch him downplay your capabilities, it's not like you were some weak damsel in distress. There was a reason your relations with the Stellaron Hunters had lasted as far as it had; you were good at wielding your weapon and making good use of the enemy’s weaknesses. Sure there were moments when you were in trouble but you never really got to live the thrill of it because Blade would always step in to help you even when you didn’t ask for it. 

You loved him dearly and appreciated his assistance but just for this instance, you wanted to deal with things by yourself. Ultimately your agitation got the best of you and so now here you were with your arms crossed, glaring at Blade after the enemy was taken care of.

“Have you always been this foolish?”

You stare at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, questioning his audacity of insulting you like this.

“Excuse me?”

“You could have gotten hurt.”

He says matter-of-factly and you feel your jaws clench at the way he speaks to you.

“Blade I am fully capable of looking after myself! I need you to stop interrupting my fights!”

“If I didn’t that Antimatter Legion pawn would have sliced your head off your shoulders.”

“And how the hell do you know that was going to happen?! I could have fought it easily if it weren’t for you!”

He turns around and looks at you with cold eyes which make you flinch momentarily.

“You overestimate yourself.”

“I do not! I have worked relentlessly on my skills! I know what I can handle or what I can’t! You just never allow me to prove it!”

“You are a fool. I do not need to see you pushed to your limits to acknowledge your skills.”

“Then why the hell won’t you let me do what I want?!”

You both argue back and forth with neither of you backing down. Blade speaks calmly, just as he always has but with slight frustration whereas you on the other hand are full-on yelling and boiling over to the point of rage. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“I am just looking out for you-”

“I am not weak like Chun. Stop treating me like I am.”

You almost immediately regret it the moment those words leave your mouth. Your words are sharp and bitter, and pierce his heart like a blade slashing through flesh. His eyes are ablaze with fury and pain and the way his jaw clenches is enough to let you know you have overstepped your boundary.

Chun was his first love. She was a good woman with a kind heart, and despite how odd she looked amongst the Stellaron Hunters, they welcomed her as long as it made Blade happy. But in a world full of evil, being kind is a weakness and ultimately she met her end in the hands of an enemy during heated negotiations. For the one whose life was already cursed by immortality, he took her death hard and swore never to love again, for he couldn’t bear to witness yet another loved one depart for the nth time in his long life. His already broken heart took ages to heal and by the time you crossed paths with him, he was still grieving over her. You knew this very well because it was you who assured him that history wouldn’t repeat itself with you. It was you who helped him heal further and gave him the confidence to open his heart up once more to you. You knew what she meant to him because he had been honest with you about his past yet-

“Blade I-”

-here you were driving the very knife you had taken out of him so lovingly back into his heart in full force. He looks at you with so much despise and agony that your heart hurts knowing you are the cause for it. A blade being stabbed over and over into his body hurt, but those wounds always healed after a while. Yet the wound your words had caused was one that no medication could fix. Your throat tightens and you want to reach out to him and hold him but you stay glued to your feet.

“We don’t need to be around each other anymore.”

Despite the torment he feels, he looks straight into your eyes and monotonously speaks. There is not even a single moment spared for you to reply as he walks out of the room and slams the door shut, indicating he is done with you. The door closing was not just the end of the argument you both were having, it was also the end of what you were to each other. You stand there rooted to the ground as tears sting your eyes. Why did you have to be like this?

Aventurine

“Aventurine I swear to god I am not playing your petty games again.”

You angrily huff as you cross your arms and glare at Aventurine with disapproval. The audacity of this man was truly something, especially at a time like this. You both were stuck in an interesting situation, where Aventurine had made a gamble with an enemy territory and he wanted you to be part of it. More precisely, he wanted to turn you into his bargaining chip for a while. There was one tiny problem. He wasn’t asking for your approval, he had already made the deal.

“The table has already been set, friend. You just have to play your role real well.”

Your jaw hangs low when you realise what he has done. 

“Aventurine don’t tell me….”

“They have decided to ask for you in exchange of information. Do not worry, I will find a way to-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as a loud slap resonates across the room. You stare at him in disbelief with tears welling your eyes, unable to process what he has done. A shaky sigh leaves his mouth and he stares at you, bewildered by your behaviour.

“It hasn’t even been a full week since we finished another deal and you want me to jump head-on into another one?!”

“Was there a need to slap me like this? If you’re forgetting, friend, you agreed to help me out on these deals regardless of the risk. Or should I have the doctor examine your memory?”

“Aventurine I agreed to help you out, not be used however you please! You could have at least asked me first before making the deal!”

You rub your temples and rethink the entire situation through. Your relationship with Aventurine was compatible due to one simple fact: you both loved taking risks. The thrill of the gamble and the adrenaline of waiting for the results kept you both alive. It was the drug you both needed in this cruel unjust world.

But this, this was different. This wasn’t just any gamble and it wasn’t a small one either. Being traded off to the enemy territory for a few weeks was no easy task and you have no idea what the hell Aventurine was thinking. In your last deal, you barely made it out alive as the tables turned against your favour. It was a miracle your assets weren’t taken and that you weren’t killed in the process.

“…I promise you will be fine, friend.”

Tears sting your eyes and you try to take a deep breath. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“The gaiaithra triclops blesses me abundantly. We will not lose.”

“Is that what you said to Lilac as well before her demise?”

You hear how his breath hitches in his throat at the mention of Lilac. He coughs a little and then stares at you with a look you cannot decipher.

“Do not bring her up.”

His voice is a mere whisper and you know you’re crossing some lines already. Yet you don’t stop there. You jab your right index finger into his chest with every word you speak.

“I don’t know what’s worse, being a gambling chip on purpose or being a gambling chip unknowingly, like she was.”

He grips the hand you have on his chest tightly. You can’t help but wince a little at how he’s looking at you with red eyes filled with regret and anger. He tries to speak but you cut him off.

“Was losing her not enough to learn your lesson? Or do you turn everyone you love into pawns of your game?”

“You’re crossing the line now.”

He warns and you shake your head.

“You treat everyone like an asset, even the ones who truly love you without any hidden agenda. No wonder you couldn’t save Lilac-“

“Enough!”

Before you can process what is going on Aventurine pulls out a gun from his inner coat pocket and shoots a random vase on the table behind you. The bang of the gun and the loud shattering of the ceramic into pieces makes you jump and shake a little. He then shifts his gaze on you and lets your hand go before issuing his warning.

“…you need to leave. Leave before I accidentally hurt you.”

“I-“

“I said leave!”

He points the gun at you. His hand is shaking in a manner you have never seen before and you can tell he doesn’t want to do this but you’re giving him no choice. You stare at him for a moment and nod your head before scurrying away.

Once you’re out of his sight he plops onto the nearest sofa and drops his gun. It lands with a loud thud as he puts his head into his hands and shakes visibly. Flashbacks of that dreaded day start to play over and over in his head and he clenches his teeth as a tear rolls down his eye.

Lilac was a woman he met during one of his travels as an IPC stoneheart. They got along pretty well and eventually fell in love. A few years ago, Aventurine asked her for help during a deal he made and she agreed only for the other party to target her as leverage against Aventurine. He still remembers the pain in her eyes as she looked at him, confused and hurt from how she became the target. He remembers holding her in his arms apologising over and over for his lack of foresight, unable to figure out where he went wrong.

It was the first and last deal he ever lost. And now you, his new partner after several hard years of grief, were bringing up old wounds that never healed. Gaps of his heart that nothing would ever fill. Another tear rolls down his eye as he grits his teeth further. Had he known you would bring her up like this, he would have never told you about her. It’s always the closest ones that hurt you the most. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #blade x reader #hsr blade #hsr angst #blade angst #blade x female reader #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr #star rail aventurin #musingwithmaiya #tumblr asks

[ghoularaki]

w3lc0me t0 th3 fr3aksh0w <3 | 2

↠  summary: Your ex-boyfriend not satisfied with how the relationship ended comes back to teach you a lesson its best to keep your mouth shut. Some secrets are best left unspoken.

↠  word count: 5,926

↠ pairing: todoroki touya x reader, takami keigo x reader, geten x reader

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, college/dark web au, DARK CONTENT, yandere! dabi, bullying, stalking, blood, mention of drugging, noncon touching, breaking and entering

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“Do we really have to be here?” You grumbled to your blonde companion.

In front of you, a house party bellowed through the streets with trashy music. The booming bass almost blew out your eardrums and you weren’t even inside, yet. Standing on the sideway right before the entrance, you were reluctant to walk further into the home.

A few stragglers sat on the lawn, sipping out of disposable cups, obviously filled to the brim with cheap alcohol. What everyone really wanted was inside. Which only filled you with dread. A party filled with coked out college students only meant one thing: Dabi and Keigo were inside. Though Toga promised you, this party wasn’t like that.

Speaking of the girl, she threaded her arm through yours and tugged you closer to her chest. “Yes, we do! I’m so sick of you rotting away in your dorm. Ayame is complaining about you.”

“Of course, she is,” You rolled your eyes at Toga’s lame attempt to convince you.

Sensing you were about to run away, she squeezed you tighter—she sure was strong for such a small girl, “It’s too late to change your mind, now. Let’s go, it will be fun!”

She’s right, you would have to just grit your teeth and try to enjoy yourself as much as possible. You could only hope neither of those men were there, but you knew not to hold your breath. A party meant profit as if Dabi and Keigo didn’t already have the money.

With you in tow, Toga speed-walked into the front door. You grimaced when you heard one of the men wolf-whistle at you two as you passed them on the lawn. Before you could make a biting remark, Toga shoved into the door. You coughed and waved your hand in front of your face. Smoke permeated around the house, a strong mix of weed and tobacco.

The room’s illuminated with low-lights and a few multi-colored disco balls. You hated frat boys with a burning passion. Crossing through a hallway, you were already met with couples making out against the wall. The further you went, you into a kitchen where people were trying to make drinks or pigging out on snacks. Before you could reach for something to drink—you were going to need it if you were going to stay long—Toga pulled you into the living room.

There sat on the couches was the old friend group, or at least to you. Toga still hung out with them, but you were very much outcasted after the break-up. If they only knew what really happened.

From what you could see Mirko and Shigaraki sitting next to each other, no one else from the group. That made you sag at least a little bit. You could deal with Mirko if Shigaraki and Toga were with you. While Toga wholeheartedly defended you, Shigaraki neutral, the rest of the group—Mirko, Keigo and Bubaigawara—didn’t particularly like you anymore.

“Hey, guys!” Toga greet with a wide smile, her sharp canines on display.

“Yo,” Mirko replied back with a lazy grin. It slightly dropped when seeing you but she didn’t say anything.

Shigaraki merely nodded his head, but otherwise kept to himself, sipping from his own cup.

Skipping over, Toga brought you with her and almost sat on the spot next to Shigaraki, but he tugged you down onto the empty spot next to him. Pouting, Toga sat on the arm of the couch instead.

“Meany,” She grumbled to the older man.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

At that she fake retched multiple times while you giggled. Shigaraki pinched you in retaliation.

You slapped his hand away, “Ouch! I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re being annoying like her. I made you sit here so I didn’t have to deal with her-”

“Hey!”

He glared at her and continued, “But I forgot you guys were two peas in a pod.”

Toga slung an arm around your shoulder and leaned down so her cheek pressed against yours, “And don’t you forget it!”

“So we are all buddy-buddy with the snitch now?” Mirko asked with a raised brow, peering over from Shigaraki’s form.

Toga’s happy expression quickly fell to a deepset scowl, “If you want to join the Y/n hate club, go hang out with Dabi and Hawks.”

“I was trying to, but you guys had to come over here. Why don’t you take the hint?”

Mirko usually wasn’t such a bitch. If anything she would do anything to stand up for a fellow girl, but you got between her and her precious molly by ratting out Dabi. So anything she said, you took with a grain of salt. She’s definitely at the bottom of your list of people to worry about.

Though, none of that mattered when her words confirmed your worst fear. You were too naive to believe none of them would be here. Panicking, you looked through the crowd of people for a spec of either man. Lately, where one was the other soon followed.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Shigaraki snarked, “Thanks to Daddy’s money Dabi isn’t in jail anymore so you can be coked up as much as you want again.”

“Excuse you, I take molly not coke.”

��Oh yeah like that makes you so much more morally superior,” He sniped.

Huffing, Mirko crossed her arms, “As if you aren’t high off your ass right now.”

“I gotta be to deal with your ass.”

“I need a fucking drink,” You said, having enough of their bickering.

It’s good to know they both never changed. Mirko really only hung out with the group because of Keigo so she frequently got on Shigaraki’s nerves. Though, his constant snark didn’t really help him in the making friends department.

The group really started with Dabi and Keigo’s friendship. Those two had been thick as thieves since middle school. Mutual benefit really does form a strong bond.

Then came Shigaraki, Toga and Jin. Shigaraki met Dabi towards the end of high school, and since he was acquainted with Toga, she followed along. And where Toga went, Jin soon followed. The two of them bonded over being abandoned by the system so when Jin turned eighteen, he took in eleven year old Toga.

Mirko didn’t come in until she met Keigo during her second year of college. You were the last to join. About two years later you joined when you met everyone through Dabi. At first you were known as his girl, but when Toga found out you two were the same age, she welcomed you in. In no time you found a small family with all its dysfunctions. Only for it to quickly burn to ashes a year later.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you got off your seat much to Toga’s protests.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Her voice tittered on concern.

You waved her off, “I’ve got it. I’ll get you a drink too.”

“Get me one, too!” Mirko yelled to you but you flipped her off over your shoulder.

You didn’t care to listen to how she laughed as you walked further into the crowd. As the night grew darker, the party picked up. Around the nicely furnished kitchen, people surrounded the counter stack with bottles of alcohol and juice. Skipping over the fruity drinks, you looked for any cans of beer or preferably something that didn’t taste like piss. A can was easier to cover with your hand than a cup. Less likely to get roofied. You didn’t trust frat boys as far as you could throw them.

Standing on your tip-toes to see over the heads hoarding the counter, your heart dropped. Leaning on the wall across from you stood Dabi. He seemed deep in conversation with a pretty girl, a sleazy smile twisted on his face.

You could only hope he finally moved on, but no, you spotted the tiny baggy filled with white powder dangling between his fingers. Taking the time to admire him, he didn’t look any different from the past couple weeks you had avoided him. His hair still a deep black, tattoos covering most of his skin. The snake bites caught in the low light, winking at you.

Falling back on your heels, Dabi noticed you amongst the crowd. The smile on his face slipped into something darker, like a wolf catching a rabbit, teeth all bared.

“Fuck,” You seethed to yourself.

Stumbling backwards, you watched Dabi tell the girl something. Her disappointed expression spoke volumes. Whipping around, you stumbled through the thickened gaggle of party-goers. Instantly, you looked to the couch to get help from Toga and Shigaraki, but instead of them, a new couple were cuddling close.

Redirecting yourself, you raced through a hallway and raced through the stairwell. More people crowded the stairs, but you pushed past them. Angry shouts followed you, but you didn’t care. There’s a banister, you raced over, catching the eye of Keigo still on the first floor.

You went down a more secluded hallway and ripped open the door closest to you. The door revealed an empty bathroom. Slamming it closed, you shoved your body against the door. Gripping the knob, you sagged against the slab of wood.

A shriek pierced through the still air. Your eyes snapped to make eye contact with yourself through the mirror. Another bang had you yelp again.

“That’s where you been, doll. Hiding from me, hmm?” Dabi’s muffled voice came from the other side.

Scrambling to the knob, your hand frantically felt for a button. You were out of luck. There’s no lock.

When you don’t respond to him, he banged against the door harder. The knob twisted in your own grasp, and you reached both hands over to stop him from opening the door.

“Don’t fucking make me break in there, you’re already in deep shit, princess. Let's do this the nice way.” He breathed into the door. Dabi didn’t shout as he uttered those words, but you heard him well enough.

“Fuck you!”

You screamed again when he hit the door right where your head was. He tried more frantically to twist the knob open.

“Fine! Be a bitch.”

The jiggling of metal filled the small room. Another yelp left you when he opened the door a crack. Slamming your shoulder against the wood, you didn’t let him open another inch. Slipping down, you fell on your ass. Planting your feet against the sink cabinets in front of you, you slouched down to be a human door wedge.

You stifled a shriek as the door shook from him throwing his shoulder against it. He repeatedly threw his body weight against the wood. The hinges creaked with the force.

“Stop being a brat, and open the door for daddy, baby. I swear we can put this behind us,” He cooed through labored breaths.

“You’re insane!” You screeched back, turning your head so he heard you better.

He upped his banging at your insult. Your body thumped with each pound and kick.

You knew you could only hold him off for so long, so your eyes bounced around the room for anything to defend yourself with. Your legs already vibrated from strain.

“What’s going on here?” Another voice joined you two.

Dabi finally took a break to address Keigo. Through the door, you listened closely, thoroughly screwed.

“She locked me out.”

“You do know the door doesn’t lock, right?” You can taste the snark dripping off his tongue.

“No shit,” Dabi seethed, “She jammed the door closed.”

Keigo gave an impressed whistle, “The little snitch really doesn’t want to be near you, huh? Must be the ugly mug.”

“Are you done?”

His boyish laugh sent a shudder through your body, “Don’t be so pissy. I’ll help you.”

On top of the counter sat a hair dryer forgotten and not plugged in. You didn’t stop staring at it as both Keigo and Dabi slammed against the door. From the force, you were pushed forward, the door opening a crack. You tried to push back, but an arm got in the way.

Knowing you were done for, you scrambled onto your feet, and pushed your back against the counter edge. You hid the dryer behind you, slipping it down so he couldn’t see it through the mirror, hand ready to grab the handle.

The door swung open so hard, it smacked against the wall before swinging back around. Keigo caught it with his hand, the slap causing you to jump. Dabi stood off to the side, letting Keigo take the reins to bring you back to him.

“Where have you been hiding, we missed you, Y/n,” Keigo smiled wide. That same douchey grin he used to get his way.

He sauntered further into the room, ready to corner you, leaving you nowhere to run. As he went to grab your arm, you pulled the dryer from behind you and aimed.

Crack!

“Fuck!” Keigo growled as he grabbed his nose. Blood flowed out like a waterfall. Red staining his lower face, hands and the floor it dripped onto.

Wasting no time, you dropped the dryer and raced out the room. Not letting Dabi be able to catch a stray arm, you booked it back into the party. Your hands shook as you refused to turn behind you, being weaker than Orpheus.

Dabi watched on as you flew by him and away from his view. Keigo came out of the room, still clutching his bruising and bleeding nose. The dirty blond went to follow you, but Dabi grabbed him by his arm.

“What the fuck, man?” Keigo questioned him, blinking through his teary eyes. Getting hit in the face hurt like a motherfucker.

A smirk danced on Dabi’s face as if he’s amused, but his crazed, blown out pupils told Keigo otherwise.

“She knows how to dig her hole deeper. Don’t worry, birdbrain, we’ll get her back for that in due time.”

Humming to yourself with your hands in your pockets, you tried to give off an air of aloofness. Tucked in your palm, a knife ready to be used. You knew these streets well, frequenting the shadier parts of town for over a year now. The streets themself were safe, but since the party you refused to walk around unarmed.

Dabi lurked in every corner, shrouded in shadow, waiting to get the jump on you. Or at least that’s what your paranoid brain told you. Plus Keigo being in on Dabi’s warpath to get his vengeance didn’t comfort you at all.

Warm hued lights danced across your face as the sun slipped down the purpling sky. The blaring street signs illuminated the darkening alleyways. People were sporadically spaced among the different shops, cigarettes clinging to their lips. Mainly older men with tattoos crowded the stores. Despite the implications of who they were, you didn’t feel scared.

Gangsters were the least of your worries.

Turning left, you entered a dead end alley with a shop tucked into the corner. Soft light poured in from the window onto the shiny pavement. No sign indicated who or what occupied this tiny corner.

Opening the creaky sliding door, a bell rang into the cramped space. The desk to the left of the door sat empty of the man running the place. At the sound of the door shutting closed, you heard some clattering somewhere in one of the back rooms. You raised your eyebrow when a different voice than you were expecting called out for you to wait.

Instead of a man with a head of fully grey hair, circle sunglasses and a sleazy smile, out came one of the last people you wanted to see.

“Where’s Giran?”

“Why the fuck are you here?”

Both of you said at the same time.

Neither of you laughed as you stared at each other. You didn’t hold a lot of resentment for the man, but most of it had to do with how close he’s to Toga. It stung what side he picked after everything.

“Where’s Giran, Bubaigawara?” You repeated yourself.

The older man crossed his arms, obviously uncomfortable. “He’s somewhere around here. He’s doing a deal!” The truth slipped out while his conflicting voices argued with each other.

Mimicking his stance, you hugged your arms to you. “Well do you know when he’ll be back? I was supposed to get tatted by him.”

“I can do it. Well, that’s too bad, bitch!”

Ignoring the second part, you asked, “Are you sure?”

“Fuck off! Yeah, let's go.” He beckons you over his shoulder.

Following the man into one of the rooms through the door. He closed it silently and starting look around for cleaning supplies. You watched him wipe down the chair.

“Where have you been? Who cares!” Bubaigawara asked.

Absent-mindedly, you answered him, “Just at school. Still stuck in the dorms, trying to save up to get an apartment. Same old bullshit.”

Standing in the middle of the room, you glanced around. You hadn’t been here in months and nothing changed.

The room was tiled with a dark, cheap material and the wallpaper peeling from the corners. Hung on the wall were different frames of Buddha, Jesus and various sizes of crosses. Giran surely wasn’t a religious man, but he liked the irony.

Under the frames sat the desk that looked more like a tool box than anything else. The dark metal drawers lined with various tattoo guns, ink and needles.

Not too long ago Dabi had been the one to show you the shop. Three months into the relationship you had let him tattoo you. It wasn’t that good as he wasn’t a tattoo artist, but you still loved the tiny skull he imprinted into your inner wrist. Or you once did. Anytime you look at it now, a concoction of emotions swirl in your stomach. You debated getting it covered up, but you let it serve as a reminder. Though you knew the real reason, you're scared of what he would do if you got rid of it.

Bubaigawara cleared his throat to pull you from your thoughts. He had everything set up and you climbed onto the reclining, black chair. Sitting in his stool, it creaked under his weight.

“So what did you want?”

You pulled your phone from your pocket and flipped it open. A new message from an unknown number greeted you.

you done ignoring me? answer me or else you won’t like what i’ll do

from: unknown

sent 6:56 PM

Rapidly deleting the message, you pull up the image you saved. Bubaigawara leaned in closer and squinted at the piece you wanted.

“Where do you want it?”

You bring your right leg up and tug your thigh high down to show the space above your knee.

He nodded in understanding and got to work. Slumping into the cushions, you closed your eyes and sank into the buzzing of the gun. You barely flinched when the needle pierced the fragile skin.

Your phone vibrating pulled you from your stupor. Flipping it back open, the number texted you again.

i can’t wait to break you y/n

from: unknown

sent 7:11 PM

Furrowing your brow, you stared at the text harder. Dabi rarely called you by your first name unless he’s being serious. Staring intensely at the numbers, you scoffed at the realization. You thought you blocked him ages ago.

dabi wouldn’t be happy knowing ur texting me keigo

from: snitch

sent 7:12 PM

not as unhappy he will be when you answered me instead of him

from: unknown

sent 7:12 PM

get bent

from: snitch

sent 7:13 PM

talk big game when it’s over a screen. don’t worry you’ll learn soon can’t wait to see you sweetheart

from: unknown

sent 7:13 PM

Uneasy, you swiftly blocked his number as well and placed your phone down. Staring up at the ceiling, you followed the water damage lining the yellowing plaster.

“What’s that face for? I don’t care!”

Turning your head, you looked at the man in front of you. His thick arms bulged as he shaded his work. Face serene, while he tattooed was the only time Bubaigawara’s raging mind stayed silent.

“It’s nothing.” You waved him off. He wouldn’t get it.

“Tell me.” His tone serious. He rarely showed his age, always very childish in his mannerisms, but times like these, you remember he did take care of Toga at some point.

Gulping, you chose your words carefully. “Dabi’s back.”

He paused for a moment before continuing, “Yeah.”

“You know?”

“Where do you think he’s staying?”

This made you jolt up and rip your thigh away from him. “Is he here? I-I thought he went back home. Like his dad put him on house arrest.”

“You know for a fact he would rather go to jail again than ever go back there.” He grabbed your thigh and went back to finishing the piece.

“Jin, you didn’t answer me. Is he here?” Your lip wobbled.

At you calling him by his first name, he looked up at you. “No. Yes!”

“Okay,” You sagged into the chair once more and clutched your hands to your chest. Staring at the door, you watched in apprehension of your ex walking in at any moment.

Bubaigawara continued his work, dipping back into the ink every once in a while. His warm palm on your skin burned. You didn’t want him or anyone to touch you. You were stupid to come back here. Of course Dabi would stay in the shop, he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Though, now you know to avoid this area.

The silence didn’t last long when he spoke up again. “So is Dabi texting you? He’s real upset, ya know?”

“Mind your business,” You snapped, fear overriding your system.

“You hurt my friend.”

You shook your head at his ignorance. “No, he hurt me. You don’t even know a quarter of what happened. Instead of you guys blaming me for Dabi’s actions, open your fucking eyes.”

“You put him in jail, why? Because you guys got into a spat?”

A laugh broke from your chest, “So that’s what he’s telling everyone what happened. Cool, good to know. Are we done?”

He took the gun from your skin and wiped off the excess ink and plasma. He properly wrapped it as your other leg bobbed up and down.

“Yeah, we’re done.”

“Thanks.” You roughly shoved your thigh high back over your thigh and stomped out of the room.

Slamming the sliding door open and shutting it closed just as aggressively, you flipped up your phone. Dialing Geten, he answered after one ring.

“Come get me, please?”

Bubaigawara watched you stomp out, confused. He didn’t get you or the situation at all. Dabi told him you were being overdramatic and lied to the cops to get him in trouble. Yet, you seemed terrified knowing Dabi could be in the shop. He dismissed it as you not wanting to confront the fact you lied and snitched on your boyfriend, and everyone else in the group.

He finished cleaning and breaking everything down and went back to the front. Moonlight streamed in from the windows. Glancing at the clock, it had been nearing midnight. The time had passed a lot faster than he thought.

After tattooing you, he’d been in his own head for too long. Unanswered questions swirling in his head. He would have to talk to Toga later. Afterall she had sided with you despite everyone else being pissed, saved for Shigaraki who didn’t care.

Reaching for the binder to calculate earnings and funds, the door had opened with a bang. In came Dabi with a sour look on his face. Ripping off his jacket, he half-hazardly threw it on a stray chair.

“I’m going to kill her,” Dabi muttered under his breath.

“Are you talking about Y/n? What crawled up your ass!”

Dabi glowered at him, suspicious, “What about it?”

“You’re so pissy! She seems to be why you have been in a bad mood since you came back,” Bubaigawara shrugged.

“No fucking shit she has been. The bitch has been avoiding me. I just want to talk, but she acts like I’m going to hurt her or something.”

The older man thought for a moment, “Well she was just here and told me she’s still at the dorms. Maybe you can talk to her there. Or stop bitching about her!”

A grin broke out on his visage, the burn scar on his cheek dimpling. He leaned over the counter and condescendingly patted Bubaigawara’s face. “You not being all there really works wonders. Thanks for the info.”

Dabi walked back out of the shop, waving over his shoulder.

Bubaigawara blinked, a foreboding feeling that he did in fact do something stupid clung to him.

Curled up on your bed, your finger traced over the healing tattoo through the saran wrap and your thigh high. The sun hung high in the sky, but the muted light barely penetrated the blanket thrown over your head. After Geten had picked you up from the parlor your anxiety had only skyrocketed.

You had stayed the night, but you decided to come back to the dorms afterwards. Lying through your teeth, you told Geten you didn’t want to be late for any more classes. You both knew you were fibbing. You didn’t show up to your classes today. Going straight to your room, you ignored Ayame’s snark and launched yourself on your bed. It’s been hours and you still haven't moved.

Sleep couldn’t even claim you. The paranoia that Dabi would find you shot your system. From outside your cotton cocoon, your phone buzzed multiple times. You couldn’t muster up the courage to read the messages. They were most likely Geten and Toga checking up on you, but deep down you knew Dabi wouldn’t be easily curved with being blocked.

Your phone started to ring with a bubbly tone. Groaning, your hand shot out from the blanket and felt around the sheets until you grabbed the tiny device. Dragging it under with you, you flinched from the screen piercing your eyes. You saw Geten was calling.

“Hi,” You meekly answered.

“How’s my girl doing?”

You shrugged while mumbling a quick, “I don’t know.”

Geten’s silent for a second before responding, “I’m going to come pick you up. I don’t like leaving you alone especially since you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just a lot right now and I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe from the beginning?” His tone dripped with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Thanks asshole, why didn’t I think of that.”

“Anytime. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

The call ended with a click.

With an enormous sigh, you dropped your phone and curled further upon yourself. Working up the courage to pick yourself up from your tiny pity party, you hear the door knob turn.

Your face pinched in confusion. Ten minutes surely haven’t passed. The door opened and closed with an extra click. Whoever came in, locked the door.

A concoction of fear and perplexion overtook your system.

Peeling the blanket off, you called out, “Geten?”

A scream pierced through your chest at the sight of black instead of white hair. Dabi does nothing to stop your screech and stands by the door with crossed arms.

Crawling further up the bed, you clutched onto your blanket like a pathetic child.

“How did you get in here?” Your breathing hitched and your shoulders bounced with every inhale.

“Passed your roommate in the hallway,” He shrugged. “What a bitch, right? Didn’t even question who was asking.”

He unfortunately took the words right out of your mouth. But you couldn’t really blame her. How was she supposed to know your crazy ex’s actively stalking you.

“Get out, Dabi,” You tried to sound firm but even you could hear how your voice wobbled.

He started walking closer until his knee leaned on the side of the bed. Pulling the blanket to the side, he grabbed your calf and dragged you further down the bed. Screeching, you tried to kick him away, but he pressed further into the muscle.

Propping his body over yours with a hand by your head, he engulfed his form with yours. With your free hands, you pushed and hit his chest.

“Get off! Get off me!” You screamed and thrashed your head side to side.

With clenched eyes, the world around you blended into that damp alleyway. Smoke from both the gun and fire stuff their way into your airways until all you can taste is ash.

Dabi gripped your cheeks and shook your head with vigor. Blinking through the tears, you see his indignant expression above you. Toggling onto his baggy shirt, you both wanted to pull him close and as far away as you could.

“What the fuck is up with you?”

“G-get,” You gulped to suck in more air, “get away from me.”

He dug his fingers further into your mandible, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You owe me an explanation.”

“I think putting your ass in jail is enough of an explanation. What do you want from me?”

“I want to know why my girlfriend-”

“I’m not your girlfriend!”

The hand on your jaw trailed down to wrap around your neck instead. No pressure was put, but the threat very much apparent.

“I forgot about your new favorite pass time, that fucking albino loser.” Malice dripped from his tongue, “You lie to him too?”

Guilt strewn across your face at the jab. “Dabi, look, you know I’m so-”

“You don’t get to be sorry after the bullshit you have pulled.” The veins on his hand bulged as it absentmindedly tightened around your throat further.

“Geten is going to be here soon, so you better leave,” You grasped for anything to get him off you.

Dabi laughed with a deep husky tone, “You think that prick scares me? I would be more worried about yourself if he finds you in such a compromising position with your ex.”

Kicking up a fuss again, you tried to kick him but he placed his hand under your thigh and brought your knee to your chest. The skirt you were wearing hiked up to show your black and pink skull panties.

Crawling further upon you, he straddled your free leg so your whole body besides your hands were trapped under him. Nudging his knee closer to your exposed core, he dug into your slit but didn’t move. You fought the urge to squirm as you would only grind on his leg, falling right into the palm of his hand.

Completely frozen, Dabi took advantage of your petrified state and tucked a finger under your right thigh high and pulled it down. His warm fingers dragged down your slowly exposed skin until the sock sat at your ankle. Leg in tHE air, he nosed at your calf until he hit a particular spot. There, sat on the middle of your calf a scar the size of a quarter. Barely noticeable unless you were looking for it.

Chills ran down your spine when Dabi kissed the old wound. The skin long since healed over and discolored. The chunk of skin and muscle gone from your calf bound you together better than any chain or rope could.

“There’s no one in this world that will love you like I do. This,” He dug his thumb into the scar, “Right here is proof of my love.”

What a load of bullshit, you wanted to say but kept your mouth shut. What he did wasn’t love, it was misdirected anger and obsession. Anything he did was never for you, but himself.

A knock on the door had both you and Dabi snap your attention towards the person behind it. You held your breath, praying it wasn’t Geten.

“Y/n, I forgot my keys!” Ayame called out.

Your ex turned back towards you as you opened your mouth to scream. The hand on your neck, shoved two fingers down your throat. A wet, ugly gag echoed in the space between you two.

“Scream and I’ll beat your ass bloody,” He sneered, nose to nose.

Tears bubbling over, you nodded in agreement and clutched onto his wrists. Dabi kept his focus on your mouth, not caring Ayame kept pounding on the door. Dragging his fingers an inch back, he thrusted them back in but more gentle. This time you didn’t gag but your throat did tighten.

“Fuck, there’s my good girl,” He sighed into you.

With firm strokes, he fucked his fingers in and out of you. Drool dripped down from his fingers and your lips, caking your chin. Your eyes went hazy as you were swallowed by bright blues, him never breaking eye contact.

The buzzing of your phone broke you from your trance. Dabi pulled his fingers from your mouth and brought them to his own. Sticking his pierced tongue out, he licked and sucked your saliva off his fingers.

Whipping the excess wetness on his pants, he grabbed for your phone before you could protest.

“Looks like your boyfriend is here.”

He dangled your phone in front of your face to see the message. You reached out to swipe the phone but he pulled the phone back and far above you.

“Dabi, please!”

“He can wait.”

“No, he’ll get suspicious and come up here and-”

He flung your phone onto the floor and got back into your face, “Why do you care what that reject thinks, you’re mine.”

“No I’m not! When will you get that through your thick fucking skull.”

“And when will you get it through yours that you belong to me! You put me away to serve time and I still came back. You’re gonna have to kill me to get rid of me for good.”

His nostrils flared while he stared down at you with such contempt. Every word he said, he meant. Like a cockroach he would survive and crawl his way back to you.

“I need to go,” You tried to reason.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Forcing you back onto the bed, he dropped your leg to grip your shoulders. Pinning your hips down with his. With one hand, he pulled your shirt to the side. Licking the exposed skin of your neck, he nibbled and sucked at the skin.

“Stop, you’ll leave a mark,” You whined as you kicked your legs out.

The flesh tingled as his teeth scraped against it. His lips did not leave anything untouched.

Nosing up to your ear, he said, “That’s the point.”

With more fervor you bucked your hips to throw him over, but he stayed steady. Likened to a rabid animal, Dabi bit into your neck hard to tame your thrashing. Your breath left you with piercing pain. Luckily he didn’t break skin.

Satisfied, he pulled away and examined his artwork. There was no hiding the bruises littering the side of your neck. Getting up and off you, Dabi blatantly adjusted the hard-on in his pants.

Pulling yourself up, you watched him flick open the lock. Looking over his shoulder, a wide smirk stretched over his burnt skin at your pathetic form. He pointed to the side of his neck.

“Have fun explaining that to your little boyfriend.”

You slapped a hand over your neck and flinched at the raw skin. Cackling, he slammed the door closed, leaving you in your shame. 

#yandere dabi #yandere x reader #yandere touya #yandere bnha #yandere dabi x reader #yandere hawks #dabi x reader #yandere #yandere male #bnha smut #hawks smut #dabi smut

[wintfleur]

I can totally see Ethan having Stella playfully flirt with a freshmen and then mark act like her upset bf . . . def troublemakers!

Can we get a mini blurb on this?

a/n ﹒ofc you can lovely mwah! x

au masterlist - you can find everything under #👩🏻‍🎨 ͡ ꒱ Stella Hughes!

“Hmm how about that one?” Ethan leaned down to whisper in Stella's ear as he motioned with his cup, towards a freshman who stood by the drinks table, getting a refill. Stella shook her head with a smile as she crossed her arms over her chest, looking at the said boy “I don't know this seems kinda mean.” 

“Oh, he’ll survive '' Mark chuckles as he loops his arm around Stella's shoulder, being careful not to spill his drink on Stella at the quick movement. Stella let out a sigh but agreed on the two boys' plan. The Two boys spent the next few minutes giving her a rundown and information about the frieshie, until they deemed, she was ready. “Go get em’ tiger” Ethan smirked, softly pushing her away from them. 

“Hi!” Stella spoke loudly enough for him to hear her over the music, as she popped up next to him, a charming smile on her lips. The boy quickly turned to look at her, and a smirk forms on his lips at the sight of her “Oh hey, enjoying the party?” 

“It's okay, I heard that the football players know how to plan a party” Stella smiled as she filled up her cup, her shoulder brushing against his. She looks back up at him to see him already looking down at her. “You're Josh, right? you're on the team?” 

Josh’s eyes widen and he keeps his smirk on his lips, his ego boosting at the fact that she knew he was already. “Yeah, and your stella” 

“Oh, you have heard of me?” Stella giggled as she tilted her head to the side, wanting to roll her eyes when she saw his eyes immediately drop to her tits and neck, ugh boys. Josh kept on looking from her eyes to her chest, not even caring that it was obvious “How could i have not? You're one of the hottest chicks on campus.” 

Stella bit back a groan of disgust, God Ethan and mark was right, he's a major dick she thought to herself. No wonder why they wanted her to mess with them. She took a step closer to him and looked up at him through her eyelashes, a teasing smile on her lips “Can i quote you on that?” 

“You can do whatever you want babe” he was quick to reply as he moved to take a step closer to her but stopped when Mark stepped up and wrapped his arm around Stella's shoulder, pulling her flush against his chest. Mark glared heatedly at Josh who looked like he saw a ghost “You flirting with my girl freshie?” 

Josh takes a step back and quickly shakes his head no “Oh no no i was just asking her, err where the bathroom was, thanks” Josh gives her a fake smile, panic in his eyes as he quickly turns around and gets lost in the crowd of students. The duo watches him for a few more seconds before breaking out into laughter. 

“God did he forget he lives here?” Stella laughs as she hides his face in her chest. Mark laughs and rubs her shoulder, and excited Ethan walking up to them, a mischievous smile on his lips “That was great stella, we have one more guy.” 

“No no no i'm going to go dance with lily and carmen, have funn” Stella smirks with a wink, trailing off into a teasing tone as she hands her cup to mark before stepping out of his hold, and turning around to make her way to the last spot she remembers her two besties where. And where rutger was . . . but they didn't need to know that. 

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @cixrosie @toasttt11 @bunbunbl0gs )

#👩🏻‍🎨 ͡ ꒱ Stella Hughes! #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨👩🏻‍🎨୧˚ stella hughes au! #💌stellahughes! #mark estapa x reader #ethan edwards x reader #umich x reader #hughes!sister

[birdbrainedboy]

I’m obsessed with this show and fear a hyperfixation anyways here are my thoughts on every character in the show

Edwin Paine: forever my favorite, even back before the show when I read the comics! I think it’s funny that basically every man in the show wants him? I’m intrigued by his character arc throughout the story regarding his sexuality as despite dying in 1916, he seems to have had time to slowly become more accepting of gay people (I’m guessing in part due to Charles, who is pansexual), to the point where there’s only mild internalized homophobia if at all, which just exhibits itself in him denying any possible feelings for Monty. I love how face-value and logical he is while still being a sweetheart

Charles Rowland: he has a pan flag pin on his jacket which confuses me bc can ghosts only wear clothes they would’ve worn when they were alive, or how do ghost clothes work? Because he died in 1989 and I’m near positive he didn’t wear that pin back there. Anyways I do love him but I wonder about some design choices, like the one earring (not sure why it just kinda annoys me). That was more a rant abt his design than his character, which I have nothing notable to say abt since I LOVE HIM he’s so real

Crystal Palace: sometimes she was a bit annoying the way she was trying way too hard to pry into everyone’s lives, but honestly that was just momentary annoyance since nothing could make me hate her. I love how her past was slowly revealed (as someone who already knew it from the comics) and how she came to terms with the person she used to be vs the person she is now. She’s so cool!

David the demon: honestly kind of caught me off guard at first bc the person I’m dating is named David but I actually enjoyed his character. LOVED when Crystal dealt with him in the end. He was very interesting

Niko Sasaki: I love Niko, but I have some problems with her character. First of all, I feel like ditsy anime-loving cutesy Asian girl with dyed hair is a weirdly common trope? But whatever my main issue is that it feels like characters who normalize the fetishization of gay men are so common. Like if Niko had been a guy obsessed with lesbian manga evb would be weirded out, so why is it different? If we ignore all of this tho I absolutely adore her and I’m actually praying she’s in the next season bc she was one of my favorites (esp her relationship w Edwin)

Jenny: She is so hot and cool and funny I’m in love with her

Esther: oh my god words cannot come close to describing how much I love her character. She felt powerless and weak in the past and now she’s become obsessed with making sure nobody has that power over her ever again. She was so fun and I loved her attitude! I’m sure she won’t show up next season, as she was the main antagonist of s1, and while I love her, I kind of hope she doesn’t since I think her arc was finished.

Monty: His personality was like 2020 “soft boy” who acts nice and dumb but is lowkey a manipulator. So obviously this kind of made me like ☠️ bc why is he acting like that… but I still love him to bits because he’s just a crow guys he didn’t ask to be human,, Anyways yeah his personality annoys me but also I love him so much so? It’s confusing. ITS COMPLICATED. I will cry if he’s not in s2

Kingham and Litty: I honestly thought they were annoying but I can’t lie they were so fucking funny. Every time they were on screen I laughed.

Cat King: oh my god. He is so camp. I love him. There’s honestly not much to say he is simply iconic. Love how he’s afraid to be alone so chases after other people, he’s so real AGHH I love him

Night Nurse: Ruth Connell the woman you are… 😍 she reminds me of Muriel from Good Omens, in a way, and I love her! I really hope we get to see more of her in relation to the guy in the fish, and see her get to better understand human emotions and why they choose to cling onto the human world rather than pass on!

#dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #crystal palace surname von hoverkraft #crystal palace #niko sasaki #david the demon #neil gaiman #esther #monty crow #cat king #night nurse #good omens

[scoonsalicious]

The Pocket MCU: Avengers 1/?

In Which Pocket Meets the Avengers for the First Time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Scene In-Movie @ 53:45

You offered Couslon a Sour Patch Kid as you walked toward the bridge with him and Tony. You could hear a group talking up ahead, mentioning something about iridium. 

“It’s a stabilizing agent,” Tony said, immediately jumping into the conversation. 

You continued your conversation with Couslon. “It’s really not a problem, Phil,” you told him. “Take the jet.”

“I’m just saying, pick a weekend,” Tony turned back to add. “I’ll fly you to Portland. Keep love alive.”

You nudged Coulson with your elbow, giving him a reassuring glance. “Think about it,” you offered as you followed Tony onto the bridge. Your eyes lit up when you saw Natasha Romanoff sitting at the table in front of you. “Natty!” you exclaimed, rushing forward to give the spy a hug. It had been ages since you’d last seen her.

“(Y/N)!” she exclaimed, returning your embrace. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but what are you doing here?”

You shrugged and rolled your eyes. “I go where he goes,” you said, gesturing toward Tony.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” a sandy haired man in a red, white, and blue getup behind Natasha asked. He turned to Coulson. “I thought this was a top-secret situation. Need-to-know, only, and you’re just letting civilians in here?” He gave you a once over, taking in your black leggings and your off-the-shoulder Disney World t-shirt you’d had to tie back with an old hair tie. 

“Trust me,” you said, popping another Sour Patch Kid into your mouth as you sized up the man before you who could only be Captain America, himself– Steve Rogers– “you’re gonna be real glad this one’s got his own handler.” You jerked your head in Tony’s direction.

“Hurtful,” Tony called out as he moved toward a row of computers on the bridge. “The iridium means the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD.” He passed a big, beautifully beefy long-haired blond man that looked like he came straight from a viking saga and patted him on the arm. “No hard feelings, Point Break,” he added, “you got a mean swing.”

“Dr. (Y/L/N).” Bruce Banner stepped forward and reached for your hand. Your eyes widened in surprise at being recognized by someone as prestigious as the Bruce Banner as you wiped the sugar on your fingers off on your leggings. “I read your dissertation on examining the ethical considerations and societal implications of developing and deploying advanced technology for global live-saving purposes. Brilliant work.”

“Oh, shit,” you said, blushing as you reached out to shake his hand. “Dr. Banner, thank you. It’s an honor.” Sometimes, you forgot that you, too, had finally managed to snag your PhD. And to be reminded by someone like Bruce Banner was… well, it was fucking flattering.

“This little one is a doctor?” boomed the tall, viking-like god of a man. “She is so small, I feel I could place her in my pocket and abscond away with her home to Asgard before any of you would even notice she was gone!” 

“Who is he and can we please let him do that?” you whispered to Nat, who managed to conceal her laugh behind a cough. 

“(Y/N), this is Thor. Thor, this is (Y/N). You already know Dr. Banner, and this is Steve Rogers and Maria Hill,” Nat made swift work of the introductions. “(Y/N) is Stark’s–”

“Ward,” Tony interrupted. “She’s my ward. I’m her guardian. It’s very touching, very heartwarming.”

“Chief Technical Officer of Stark Industries,” you amended, shooting him a glare. “Legal adult, thank you very much.”

“Listen, Doctor Pocket,” Tony began, but you interrupted him.

“If this Loki guy gets a hold of iridium,” you began, talking over Tony, “he’ll be able to keep his portal open as wide and stay open as long as he wants.”

“Uh, raise the mizzenmast,” Tony commanded, raising an arm over the bridge. “Jib the topsails.” Everyone on the bridge gave him a confused look. “That man is playing Galaga!” He pointed to a crew member of the helicarrier who was, in fact, playing Galaga. “He thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did.” You rolled your eyes and sighed. Tony needed to be the center of attention at all times, otherwise, he tended to… act out.

Tony proceeded to look around the bridge controls and Tony covered one of his eyes. “How does Fury even see these?”

“He turns,” the woman Nat had introduced as Maria Hill deadpanned.

“Sounds exhausting,” Tony said, running his hands over one of the screens. “The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily.”

You put a hand on Nat’s shoulder at the mention of Clint’s name and squeezed gently. You knew how much he meant to her, how devastated she’d been when she’d learned he’d been compromised.

“So, the only major component he still needs is a power source of high-energy density,” you added. 

“Something to kick-start the Cube,” Tony agreed.

“When did you two become experts in thermonuclear astrophysics?” Hill asked, arms folded across her chest.

“Last night,” Tony replied. At Hill’s disbelieving look, you added:

“The packet. Selvig’s notes. The extraction theory papers.”

“Did no one else do the reading?” Tony asked, exasperated.

“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” Captain Rogers asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.

Dr. Banner paced in the background, thinking. “He’d have to head the Cube to 120-million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.”

“Unless,” Tony added, “Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.”

Banner opened his arms. “Well, if he could do that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet.”

“Finally,” Tony said, holding a hand out to Banner. “Someone who speaks English.”

“Hurtful,” you shot back, but Tony just stuck his tongue out at you.

“Is that what just happened?” Captain Rogers asked as Tony and Banner shook hands behind him.

“It’s good to meet you, Dr. Banner,” Tony said. “Your work on antielectron collisions is unparalleled. And I’m a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage-monster.”

“Do you want me to book the honeymoon suite for you now, Boss?” you asked with a sardonic grin, “or do you want to wait until the two of you have found a place to register, first?”

“Jealousy is an ugly look on you, Kiddo,” Tony said with a grin. “Daddy can have more than one genius friend.”

You pulled a disgusted face. “I swear to god, if you ever refer to yourself as ‘Daddy’ in my presence again, I will rip that arc reactor from your chest and shove it so far up your ass that you choke on it.”

Tony looked contemplative. “Yeah, yup– I hear it now. Horrible choice of words, totally my fault. My apologies. Never again.”

“Wait,” said Captain Rogers, clearly confused. “I don’t understand. Are you her dad, or–”

“Absolutely not!” you and Tony both shouted at the same time.

“I was hoping you might join Dr. Banner in tracking the Cube,” said a voice from the entranceway to the bridge. You turned and saw Nick Fury enter the room. “That’s Banner’s only purpose for being here.”

“Oh, hey, Nick!” you chirped. “Sour Patch Kid?” You held out your box to the SHIELD Director. 

“You got any blue ones?” he asked, to your utmost delight, and you fished through the box to dig out two before placing them in his outstretched palm.

“They’re my favorites,” you told him, smiling. “You’re lucky I like you.” Fury winked at you– or, maybe he just blinked, you couldn’t tell with the eyepatch on– before bringing the candy to his mouth. 

Captain Rogers narrowed his eyes at you. “Maybe we should start with that stick of his,” he said, eyeing you up closely. “It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“I don’t know about that,” Nick said, trying not to pucker his face as his Sour Patch Kids proved sour, “but it is powered by the Cube. And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

“Monkeys?” said the sexy viking-man–Thor, you reminded yourself– he had a name! “I do not understand.”

Captain Rogers excitedly pointed a finger. “I do!” he said, and Tony rolled his eyes behind him while you tried to stifle a giggle. “I-- I understood that reference,” Rogers nodded happily, looking to you, as if for approval. You just nodded at him.

“Good for you,” you said.

“Shall we play, doctors?” Tony asked.

“This way, sir, madam,” Banner said, indicating for you and Tony to follow him into the belly of the helicarrier, where no doubt his lab was waiting.

You turned back one last time as you followed the two men, wanting to wave a farewell to Nat before the ship swallowed you up. The second after you turned, you notice Captain Rogers turn quickly turn away from you, a blush coloring the side of his neck.

Huh, you thought as you turned back to follow Banner and Tony. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have sworn Captain America had just been checking out your ass.

#Pocket MCU #Unwanted Prequels

[totallyunidentified]

She's Safe

Am I evil for posting this on bad batch eve? maybe.

The force ghosts have cursed me for hopefully the last time.

I'm sorry. I wrote this in an hour so its really short i just had to get it out.

Spoilers?? Probably.

Dedicated to a friend who's tik tok inspired me

TW: Main Character death.

She's here. 

She's safe.

She’s hugging him.

He's slipping.

She tries to hold him up. 

He slips through her fingers.

Laying on the ground all he can sense is her next to him.

Hunter’s helmet hits the floor.

When had he taken that off?

Her eyes find his and she’s saying…something 

Why can’t he hear her?

Everything is muffled like he has his noise dampening on in his helmet, but his helmet is on the ground.

How did he get here?

Where is here?

Tantiss, he remembers. 

Omega.

They couldn't find her. 

Crosshair and Wrecker had fought. 

Who would guard the doors? 

Who would stay behind to fight the squadrons of troopers trying to follow them?

Neither letting the other say the words they all feared. 

Hunter had slipped out.

Hitting the keypad on the way.

He made sure his little brothers were safe. 

He was not going to lose another one.

He ignored the sounds of fists against durasteel.

And stood in front of what looked like hundreds of troopers. 

He had raised his hand to the side of his helmet and activated his com. 

“Get her. Get Out. Plan 99.”

With those words he had let a single tear roll down his face, hidden behind his helmet.

He had taken a deep breath letting go of everything outside that room. 

Everything but Omega.

He had to make sure they could get her out.

He had fought. 

And fought.

And fought. 

They kept coming.

He kept fighting.

Fighting for her.

Fighting for his brothers.

So they could live.

He wished that this didn't have to happen. 

That they didn't have to go through this again. 

But his family is strong. 

Resilient.

He wouldn't be here if they werent.

He takes another trooper down and not for the first time wishes he could have seen Omega one more time. 

He’s covered in injuries, bruises. Parts of his armor cracked.

Gouges in the plastoid where a blaster shot had gotten just too close. 

He kept fighting. 

He wasnt going down without the fight of his life. 

But one man against hundreds?

He was good, but not that good. 

He’s disarmed. 

His vibroblade was thrown across the room. His blasters in another corner.

He got hit. 

Arm.

Leg.

Side.

This was it.

He wasn’t going to see her grow up.

The troopers had all started closing in on him.

He had raised his fists ready to go down swinging. 

Then he felt a huge explosion.

He heard over a fallen trooper’s com that the Zillo beast had gotten out.

He laughed. Laughed! Because he knew that that was his family.

He was unstable but had remained standing. 

He heard the blast doors being wrenched open.

He heard his daughter call his name. 

And he turns and smiles.

“Omega”

She's here. 

She's safe.

He's dying.

His mind races. 

He won’t be there. He's going to miss everything.

Sure he will miss his brothers too but he grew up with them. 

He will never see Omega grow up.

Never see her go to school like a normal kid.

Never see her get married. 

He’d never see her become the strong young woman that he can already see the foundation of today. 

As the dark spots grow larger and his chest grows heavier he is only able to look in Omega’s direction and say so softly she barely hears it.

“I love you.”

He can barely see Wrecker and Crosshair behind her. 

His fight is over.

But Omega is safe.

She’s safe and that's all that matters. 

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #tbb spoilers #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb season three #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb season three prophecy #Evelyn's prophecies

[virgils-muse]

I’m gonna start talking more about my Chonny’s Charming Chaos Compendium Hellenic Mythos AU here more because it’s been rotating around my brain. I have a couple of different variations of it so here we go!

Primordial Force Ver: Heart is Selene, Mind is Helios, Soul is either Gaia or Eos, Whole is Chaos. Yes I know that Selene/Helios/Eos aren’t technically considered primordials (they’re considered titans) but Primordial Force sounds better than Titan Force. A solar eclipse is the equivalent to The Shot. Heart/Selene is envious of Mind/Helios because he can shine his own light, while Selene’s light is only a reflection of Helios’s. Mind/Helios is envious of Soul/Gaia/Eos because he can foster living organisms, while Helios is obviously uninhabitable. Soul/Gaia/Eos is envious of Heart/Selene because he wants to be the source of artistic inspiration and appreciated like Selene is. Furthermore, Soul is really pissed at Heart and Mind for the whole eclipse thing because it could’ve blinded some of the earth’s humans, which Soul holds very dear to him. He threatens them, saying if this continues, he’ll give their titles of “Sun/Moon deity” to Apollo and Artemis. More chaos ensues.

Trojan War Ver: Heart takes the place of Hector, Mind takes the place of Achilles, Soul takes the place of Helen, and Whole takes the place of Zeus. Rather than the war starting because of Helen getting kidnapped/running off to Troy (the myth varies depending on who you ask), the war starts because both the Trojans (Heart/Hector) and the Achaeans (Mind/Achilles) want Helen’s favor, as she’s a daughter of Zeus and therefore very powerful and influential. Neither Heart nor Mind started or wanted to be in the war, but by the gods will they finish it. The equivalent to The Shot in this au is Hector killing Patroclus disguised as Achilles. Despite the war that rages on, Soul/Helen is keen on not being controlled by either side, and will end things by force if not listened to. After all, her creator is the king of the gods.

Judgement of Paris Ver: Unlike the other ones, this one is not directly putting HMSW into a Greek myth, but rather taking inspo off a Greek myth and running with it. So therefore, this au takes place in modern times, unlike the other ones which are set in Ancient Greece/Troy. Paris (Whole) is forced to live his life constantly suffering from the brutal arguing of Aphrodite (Heart), Athena (Mind), and Hera (Soul). Each of the three are fighting for control over Paris’s psyche, each of them trying to push Paris into doing their bidding, trying to convince him with argument fueled by pathos/logos/ethos. Idk I haven’t thought this one through much.

Lmk if there’s already existing Hellenic Mythology aus bc I’m not aware of any but I’d love to see some if there are! Also you totally wanna send me asks about these aus

#vex sings to the muses #vex brings life to the heroes #Chonny’s charming chaos compendium Hellenic mythology au #CCCC Hellenic mythology AU #CCCC Primordial forces AU #CCCC Trojan War AU #CCCC judgement of Paris AU #chonny jash au #cccc au #Chonny’s charming chaos compendium au #Chonny Jash #CCCC #chonny’s charming chaos compendium #cj heart #cj mind #cj soul #cj whole #hmsw

[eventinelysplayground]

A Glance & A Dance

This is @violettduchess request for my 50 follower event. I already explained the saga behind this but it really was so much fun! I decided to go less trauma more because the one I had with more trauma and angst was getting pretty dark and I also couldn't pull it together. Only thing I wish I could have come up with a better title, I'm trying to get more creative with them just it's not working well. I hope you enjoy and that it adds to your day, and thanks again for the support and congrats! Mild swearing, WC approx 1967.

The stars in the night sky glimmered like jewels, as did the young ladies in their splendid dresses. The palace ballroom was lively and the music drifted on the night breeze while everyone laughed and enjoyed themselves, everyone except for two princes who stood on opposite sides of the room, one smiling while talking with everyone and masking his pain, the other silently watching.

He's always been strong. He'll get over her, he has to.

The first notes of another waltz began to play but rather than ask any of the dozen young ladies around him for their hand Leon gave them all a smile and walked away.

Come on Leon there's gotta be one woman here that-

“For somebody who's idea this whole thing was, you don't look to be having any fun.”

Jin didn't even bother to turn in Clavis's direction.

“Me having fun isn't the point of this.”

“Oh?”

Jin took the drink that Clavis so casually offered him and took a long sip, his gaze still focused on Leon.

“It won't work, you know that right.”

“Why not? He fell in love before and a ball is the perfect place for it after all, two hearts can become one with a dance.”

Clavis blinked in a daze for a moment then he burst out laughing.

“If it were really that easy I don't think you'd be feeling so guilty now would you."

Perceptive bastard aren't you.

“It may hurt for a while but it'll be better in the long run for everyone if he just moves on. None of us were supposed to fall in love with Emma to begin with-”

“But some of us did, didn't we? And I'm not just talking about Leon.”

Jin's grip tightened around his glass and his jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“You confessing to being in love with her too, Clavis?”

“Me no, but perhaps you want to take a good look at yourself.”

“I'm not in love with Emma.”

I can't allow myself to be. She deserves a hell of a lot better than me, better than Leon too. She deserves a life better than anything that awaited her here, she deserves to be happy.

Jin was expecting Clavis to laugh or try to push him on the matter but instead there was only silence. When he finally bothered to look at Clavis he found him staring down watching the grape juice swirl inside his glass as he toyed with it.

“I don't think any of us is qualified to give lectures on love or what to do about it to anyone but, I know Leon isn't happy and I doubt Emma is either. Is making two people so obviously miserable really the right thing to do, or is it what's easiest for you?”

Clavis didn't wait for a reply, instead walking off into the crowd leaving Jin alone with his thoughts. Jin was frustrated, not even with Clavis but with himself. How many times had he asked himself the same questions Clavis had just asked him? Jin downed the last of his drink and started walking across the ballroom.

I need some damn air.

He crossed the ballroom and exited out onto the balcony. The night air was cooling and helped to calm his thoughts as he leaned against the railing. As he stood there listening to the music he was brought back to a night similar to this one some twelve years ago.

“How have you been enjoying tonight's ball so far?”

“Fine.”

“What do you think of the guests? Any in particular that have made an impression?”

Jin knew what his father was asking and internally he grimaced.

“Sure, quite a few of them have sand in all the right places.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I'm sure there's a couple that wouldn't mind playing by my rules in-”

The King's fist came down hard on the balcony railing sending a dull thud into the night air.

“Is that all you care about? Just satisfying your base lust and carnal desires!”

Jin's jaw clenched, how dare his father try to lecture him on giving into base desires.

“What about your future? What about love?”

“Love!?”

Jin spat the word out as if it burned his mouth.

“Yes love. I would like for you to have love in your life, like I did once. A ball is the perfect place for that after all, it was when I was dancing with your mother that I realized how in love with her I really was.”

“What?”

“It was a waltz. We were from two different worlds and I hadn't really allowed myself to think…but all it took was a glance during that dance and I knew. She loved me and wanted me as much as I did her and so I took a chance. When the waltz was done I took her out on the balcony and I confessed my love for her and asked if she loved me in return. She gave me the sweetest smile and and an even sweeter kiss, our two hearts became one because of that dance.”

“Love is nothing but a curse.”

“Then I hope it's a curse you one day have.”

Jin stood there and sighed at the memory, he was about to go back in when he noticed Leon further down, his hands resting on the balcony railing and a look of sadness in his eyes.

Come on Leon, you have to know that doing this is best for everyone. Hell if Emma could have been happy here I would have made my move well before you ever had a chance to make her fall in love with you but she wouldn't be happy she’d just be mis-

‘Is making two people so obviously miserable really the right thing to do?’

No, no it's not. I really screwed this one up didn't I? Hopefully I still have time to make this right. I may not be the one who gets to make her happy but-

“Hey.”

Jin called out to Leon as he approached him but Leon didn't acknowledge him, things had been strained between them lately. Leon had come up with a proposal to keep Emma by his side and all their other brothers had readily agreed to it but Jin wouldn't budge, not until tonight.

“Leon.”

“Oh Jin, sorry I didn't see you out here.”

“You looked like you were thinking pretty hard about something.”

“It was nothing, do you need something or.”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On you admitting what you were thinking about.”

“Then forget it.”

Jin knew Leon had every right to be angry with him, and that was only for the stuff Leon knew about, but the distance between them now and the venom in Leon's voice stung. As Leon began to walk back inside Jin called out to him.

“You were thinking about Emma again weren't you?”

“If you're going to try and-”

“Just listen okay, I promise you don't have to listen to another word I ever say as long as you listen to me now.”

I'm the one who needs to let go so she can be happy.

**** One year later ****

On another night when the sky was filled with stars that shined like jewels and music was carried on the breeze a prince stood silently watching but this time it wasn't another prince he watched.

Emma had agreed to annul clause ninety nine and shortly after she had returned to the palace for good. All his brothers were happy she was back but especially Leon, Jin had never seen him as happy as that night on the balcony when he told him he would give in but only if Emma agreed to it.

I guess it all worked out for the best. I'm not the type of man who could make a woman like Emma happy, not really anyways but Leon's different. I know he'll do anything to make sure her life is full of love and happiness. Guess you got your wish after all huh old man?

Jin was watching Emma as she talked with a group of women her age then suddenly their eyes met across the room and she smiled at him.

I love seeing you smile like that. If only I could truly let you go but as much as I've tried I can't.

Jin saw that Emma was excusing herself and his eyes followed her as she came to stand at his side.

“Hey there Emma, you look like you're having fun.”

“I really am, I've talked to so many people and danced so much tonight.”

“That's good, it's important to enjoy yourself.”

“What about you? I’ve barely seen you talk to anyone or dance once tonight.”

“Haha. Is that your way of trying to get me to dance with you?”

Jin reached out and playfully tousled Emma's hair.

“I'm flattered but I couldn't possibly dance with you.”

“Are you afraid I'll step on your toes like I did to Yves?”

“No, I'm afraid that with just one dance you'll fall madly in love with me.”

“Oh I see…wait, what?”

Jin slid an arm around Emma's waist, his voice taking on a seductive lilt.

“It's only natural after all, the soft music, the rhythmic motions, how close you have to be to one another, the longing gazes. One dance is all it can take for two people's hearts to become one”

This may be selfish of me but...

“It also helps that I'm already madly in love with you. I have been for a long time and I want to be the one to make you happy so badly it hurts. You have no idea how jealous I am of Leon, that he’s the one who gets to be with you, kiss you, make love to you.”

Jin tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“I'm also super sexy and still in the prime of my youth, so all those combined the only thing you could do is fall in love with me and then I'd have to fight Leon for you, shirtless of course.”

I can't be with you and that's the best thing for you, even if you didn't love somebody else it would still be best for us not to be together. All I can do for you now is watch over you.

Jin’s voice was purposely light, a smile on his face and he started to laugh as he removed his hand from Emma's waist.

“You should see the expression on your face, did I take it too far this time?.”

“Jin, don't tease me like that! I thought you were serious!”

“Sorry, I promise I won't tease you like that again. How about I make it up to you by dancing with you after all?”

Jin was about to offer Emma his hand but then he noticed Leon approaching from the corner of his eye.

“Looks like that dance will have to wait for another time, unless you really do want me to fight Leon shirtless?”

“No! I'm perfectly fine with no shirtless fighting!”

“Do I want to know what the two of you were talking about?”

“Leon! Jin was just teasing me again, that's all.”

“Well then it looks like I'm just in time, care to dance Emma?”

“With pleasure!”

“See you two later. Oh and Emma, don't forget what I said, it only takes one dance.”

I don't really mind living with this curse. Leon makes you happy and as long as you can always be happy, unlike them.

The ball was long over but in the stillness just before the dawn, when shadows played along the walls there in the middle of the ballroom the ghosts of a Belle and her Prince took one more glance and one more dance.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri fanfic #ikemen prince jin #ikemen prince leon #jin grandet #leon dompteur #ikepri jin #ikepri leon #ikepri emma #50 followers

[flowerflamestars]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Darth Maul, CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala & Coruscant Guard Clone Troopers, Padmé Amidala & CC-1010 Fox Characters: Padmé Amidala, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody, CC-1010 | Fox, Quinlan Vos, Clone Commander Thorn (Star Wars), CC-5869 | Stone, Mace Windu Additional Tags: sith mind control, Jedi Maul (Star Wars), annoyance to lovers, Recovery, Political Campaigns, Padmé Amidala Lives, chosen family, Fox killed the Chancellor, Ashoka Tano becomes a Jedi again, Galactic war consequences, Force-Sensitive CC-1010 | Fox Summary:

"This is why," he drawled, handsome face ruined by overflowing disdain, "We train children."

#babes. I think I might live here now actually #Padme lives and PADME SNAPS #the very serious consequences of a disaster that almost happened #Maul: I AM NOT A TEACHER #also Maul: you are doing it WRONG CEASE SMILING AND- #in this first chapter we are mostly in grief hell sorry #it had to be done! #is Fizz one of Maul's troopers? yes absolutely #Fox? listen it is a PLOY but the baby Guards are already basically his kids #it takes a village #Quinlan: I get to watch my boyfriend hold babies? fuck over the senate? help a friend? WHERE DO I SIGN UP #yes background very tragic Rex feelings #I just think? #there's basically no way Anakin falls apart that doesn't lowkey destroy him for a while! #Obi-Wan can fall back into being a Jedi #Rex??? Rex's entire life was the war and it turns out his PERSON WAS ON THE WRONG SIDE? #devestation! unhelped by a crush! #Padme just like...has this family she never expected and she's going to keep it if it fucking kills her

[sonknuxadow]

why does sonic prime talk like everyone has lived in green hill zone this whole time.. sure sonic is seen there a lot, but hes never been stated to LIVE there.. neither have any of the characters that were seen there in the show as far as i know. like i can believe tails having a workshop set up in green hill but i Cant believe knuckles and big who are already established to live in other places live in green hill. and people keep saying sonic prime is supposed to be canon to the games and thats literally the only reason this is bugging me if sonic prime is really supposed to be set in the game universe why would they do this. i know restricting it to green hill is probably to save time and money but surely they could have come up with other excuses for the characters being in green hill a lot that arent just. saying everybody lives there when they dont

#and i KNOWW that sonic canon in general is messy but i refuse to believe that knuckles just. Doesnt live on angel island #and that characters who have never even been seen in green hill before live there #i love sonic prime btw. i do not hate sonic prime. this detail just bugs me #anyway we already know big lives in mystic ruins and knuckles lives on angel island so what are they doing here #and im pretty sure amy was said to live in station square at one point but idk if she still does #i think tails has been shown to have a few different houses and labs in different locations #which is why i can easily accept him having a workshop in green hill #idk if anything has ever been said on where sonic lives but i personally think he doesnt really have a set home he just kinda #goes wherever he wants. naps under trees n shit. and if he ever actually needs a roof over his head for the night #or just wants company then he crashes and his friends places #i think eggman also doesnt have a set home and just has multiple bases scattered across different locations #because i imagine being in the same place all the time would be dangerous for somebody who does the stuff he does #and this is entirely just me making stuff up but i think team dark share a shitty apartment in the big city somewhere