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nervoussagittarius · 11 days

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what could possibly go wrong?

matt sturniolo x influencer!reader

summary: matt tries to teach his girlfriend how to play fortnite on a twitch stream, request

warnings: lots of fluff, swearing, fortnite?, some suggestive jokes, yapper! reader

“babe, come sit with me. i just started the stream. people are joining, only for you i think” matt laughed

“of course they are they love me. i keep it real and i’m hilarious” you replied pulling out the extra chair by matt’s desk and sitting down.

“okay, so here’s your controller, and i’m gonna put the headset on you so people can hear you talk.” matt gently placed the headset on you and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.

matt got up for a second telling you that he was going to the kitchen to get a drink. you jokingly slapped his ass on his way out. you quickly looked between the camera and the chat trying to read what everyone was saying.

“guys, you want to know what i was thinking about today?” you waited to see their responces even though you were most likely going to tell them anyway.

“so i was driving around la today, and it’s getting hot out again, so everyone’s driving their convertibles. and i drove past like four of them. all i could think about was how easy it would be to steal the car, not that im going to, but how do people feel comfortable leaving their shit open like that”

matt walked back in as you continued to rant about convertibles, “i don’t know about you but half of my life is in my car. if i had a convertible people could easily just take all of my stuff”

matt looked at you dumbfounded, “what are you on about kid?” you looked up at him with admiration on your face.

“im telling them how i feel about convertibles. look they’re mad that you interrupted me.” you pointed at the chat. they were all waiting for you to finish your thought. “this is why we don’t like men guys, they just like to interrupt and be the center of attention”

matt cut you off before you could go on another tangent. “okay, we all know they love when you come on here, but let’s play fortnite.”

you looked at matt trying to hold yourself back. you looked at the camera and gave them a wink.

“what”

“… that’s what she said”

you stood up when you noticed something on the shelf about matt’s desk.

“dude you ass is in my face, and your…boobs… are in the camera” he said awkwardly as he pulled your arm for you to sit back down. he waited to see what you grabbed.

“don’t act like it’s the first time my ass has been in your face,” you sat down holding up your space camp lipbalm to the camera. “shameless plug. go buy it right now. immediately. instantly.”

you applied the chapstick as matt looked at you with puckered lips. he was expecting you to apply the lipbalm on him but instead you gave matt a kiss with a giggle.

“okay so fortnite” matt said trying to get you back on track, blushing.

“yes yes let’s do it” you replied.

“do you know how to use the controller?”

“yes sir, i think i do”

matt looked at you with a raised eyebrow in question. you didn’t let up though, you were sure you could figure out how to use the controller in secret.

“so you have to start by picking a character.”

“i’m indecisive. can you pick for me?” you said with a smile.

“no babe, you got it just pick one.” matt said with a chuckle. he set his chin in your shoulder to get a better look.

“i’m gonna go bonkers if i have to make decisions this whole time, matt”

“no there’s just one i promise. everything else is preloaded from me so you don’t have to worry,” he leaned forward to kiss your neck lovingly.

“i love when you make things easy for me. thanks baby.” you said taking your hand off the controller for a second to lace your arm through matt’s.

matt and you had been together for a while now, and with you both having lives on the internet a lot of your relationship was public.

the fans went crazy for anything related to the two of you. they loved you guys together. you had very different personalities, but it seemed to click flawlessly. they always said that opposites attract.

while matt was more reserved, you tended to speak your mind and talk about anything and everything. you were a certified yapper and proud of it, baby. your yapping kept the fans fed on the insides of yours and matt’s relationship. consensually of course.

“okay, so you’re just going to drop in and see what happens”

“what do you mean drop in? im just letting myself fall?” you were very confused on the workings of video games.

“yep, now just make sure you aware of your surroundings”

“making sure i’m aware of my surroundings, got it. i’m just gonna run over here and see what i can find.” you drowned on.

things went smoothly for a couple minutes. you managed to stay alive and not show that you really didn’t know what you were doing with the gaming controller.

all of a sudden you heard distant shots being fired from behind you. not thinking anything of it you kept of running about.

“y/n they’re shooting at you.”

“oh! wait what? where?” you had no clue what was happening. things were going by so fast.

“turn around and shoot at them.”

“matt what?” he was trying to point to where they were on your screen. “dude i don’t even know how to shoot”

“what! i thought you said you knew how to use the controller”

“yeah well i lied” you said panicked.

“these teenage boys are probably laughing at me and that’s a scary thought. teenage boys are scary.” you whined.

you kept pressing random buttons trying to figure out how to fire back, but it was no use. you rushed and threw the controller in matt’s hands so he could take over.

he some how managed to get the kill and your player only ended up injured.

by this point you had given up on the attempts to play fortnite.

you let matt fully take over now. as he played a few more rounds you began to converse with the chat. answering questions and just rambling about some interesting topics.

“y/n what’s going on in your head right in this moment?” you read from the chat. “um, i was thinking about how i was vlogging earlier and there was a spider in my room. i simply couldn’t believe it. i trapped it, but i made matt come get it out of my house”

“that’s very true. i had to drive over there for moral support.”

“my knight in shining armor.” you smiled, looking up at him. “my handsome prince”

matt blushed from your comment as he finished the game he was in while you continued taking to the viewers. you guys decided to wrap things up 5 minutes later.

“how are you feeling now that you know kinda how to play?” matt questioned.

“i feel like i’d rather sit next to you and talk to the chat while you play then actually play myself. i think i’m more content watching you play, but it was a good experience. thank you for teaching me, baby” you kissed matt on the cheek as he began to end the stream.

“i’m gonna be honest, i was stressed for you.” matt stated.

“i was to anxious. i didn’t like having to be in high alert 24/7”

“alrighty, bye guys thanks for hanging out with us”

you blew a kiss to the camera as the filming came to an end.

“can we go to bed now,” you questioned matt as you stretched and got out of your chair.

“yeah of course we can” matt replied pulling you over to his mattress with him.

an: i hope you enjoy this. tbh i know nothing about fortnite so i hope this made sense and met your expectations 🤍🤍

#matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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cocoreallylovesraiden · 2 months

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MK1 characters and sick! reader

(johnny cage, bi-han, smoke +liu kang & shang tsung)

not proof read not thought out not nothing i am SICK and this is my OUTLET (again this is not serious, just goofy stuff)

Johnny Cage

- sick equivalent of “it’s not uterus it’s uterUS”

- Especially if he doesn’t have much going on in his schedule? It’s like there’s two sick people in the house

- He has ZERO issues laying in bed all day with you- until he decides on a group excursion to the living room couch where you will… continue to lay there! Exciting.

- Depending on how sick you are he’d be more serious, if it was just a little cold and nothing to worry about, expect to have some movies in the back while you doze in and out of his incessant chatting

- (I personally think he can’t cook well) so your favourite takeout is ordered and put into one of those fancy ass bowls to make it look like a home cooked meal. Bless him.

- Wearing matching ugly pjs like the worlds bleakest slumber party

- Says he doesn’t care about getting sick from being close to you, but makes jokes about your ‘heebies’ getting all over him if you ask for any physical contact (he will over enthusiastically oblige)

- If you’re seriously ill, he would be at a loss, especially when his usual demeanour can’t seem to cheer you up.

- Since i imagine his relationship with his parents isn’t the best, he’d probably call one of your family members to ask how to best care of you, and take it from there

- He wouldn’t treat you like a glass vase though, still cracking jokes while he attends to your needs; but in a way where you can tell he’s trying to mask how vulnerable he feels in his care for you.

- Calls you his sicky wicky honey boo boo sugar tits pumpkin pie

- Definitely gets the man flu once you recover no question about it

- As you lay in bed, sweating from your fever with this huge piece of man meat hugging up on you, all you can hear in the back of your head is “BAAAAYBBUHHHHH…. IT HUUURTTSS…” (congratulations! You can see into the future!)

- Also would call his assistant to ask for help. What are they going to know? They just do his accounting!

Bi Han

- You are sick? Have fun not being allowed to do ANYTHING. No chores, no training, no oily food, no Netflix- NO NETFLIX?

- He claims that extended screen time will only agitate your condition.

- He takes it upon himself to care for you; making easy to digest food, offering to help you shower when you feel physically weak, buying all sorts of medicines, etc.

- it would be easier to send someone to do some of these tasks (aside from the showering.) but no. Out of the kindness of his heart? Yes, of course. He loves you dearly. But also because he does not trust anyone to be as competent as he is.

- As the grandmaster gives you several containers of traditional Chinese medicine, you can only wonder if some pharmacist is sponsoring him. If you dare complain they taste horrible, he will GLADLY take a pill or a bit of powder just to show you were being a wuss

- Nags you for not being careful, and at first it’s annoying but you figure out eventually it’s because he’s worried and this is how he shows his love and concern

- During the day he has to be off at work, and as the hours pass those around him see his shoulders tense higher and higher. You’ve eaten lunch, right? You’ve taken your medicine?

- But don’t worry! Once you show the SLIGHTEST signs of recovery, it’s back to the grind.

- You can sniffle and puppy eyes him all you want, but once he deems you fit for daily life, we are back for business! No more Mr Marginally Nicer Bi Han!

- That being said, once you’re back to smiling and laughing, he will admit that it’s nice to see you back to your usual self.

Smoke

- feels horrible that you’re sick, but secretly proud of his immune system for staying strong; now he has an excuse to show off his hospitality skills!

- sort of like bi-han, expect instead of professional fussing you get excited pampering, gets to the point where you have to ask whether or not he should be at work instead of here

- “Work? Taking care of you is my work!”

- Uses this as a chance to freshen up memory on his hometown; making foods, remedies and tricks he remembers his mother doing for him as a sick child.

- If you ask him more about it, he will gladly go into detail- telling wonderful stories even if he occasionally gets emotional through them

- Cleans your face with a damp cloth and uses it as an excuse to get all close with you- again! He has a strong immune system, so nothing to worry about.

- While he’s off at work, he leaves you notes around the house to remind you that he’s thinking of you and hopes you feel better soon- if you collect all the notes, he becomes embarrassed and acts like he doesn’t know who wrote them

- Comes home and snuggles with you, mentioning even if you did have a fever, it was nice because outside was so cold and you were so warm.

- A little tone deaf, but he’s… got the spirit?

- Secretly upset once you get better because you’re less accommodating to his needy/ clingy behaviour, but it’s also great that you can communicate with words and not pained groans!

- You are WAITING for the day he gets sick. There’s no way you’ve gotten the flu 4 times, and he hasn’t. He sleeps in the same bed as you when you’re sick! Kisses you!

- How did they raise kids to be so strong where he’s from?

BONUS

Liu Kang

- you don’t get sick.

- flu season? he makes you take traditional medicine to prevent it.

- cold? you’re funny. around him? Liu “Set Off Fire Alarms With His Flaming Biceps” Kang? Haha.

- food poisoning? he Knows if the food is off, and won’t let you get the chance to eat it.

- Papa is going to make sure influenza season hits a new low this year

- Seriously, medical insurance companies are terrified of him.

Shang Tsung

- very creepily offers you an elixir and asks you to drink it.

- (Here is the part where I say: but you know he won’t hurt you, so you take it. But, you don’t know. He’s looking at you reeeaaalll funny)

- Notices your glare and takes a moment to re-do his sales pitch, this time a lot less devil-binding-contract and more… human…like?

- turns out, the elixir was just a failed experiment on shape-shifting. he sheepishly offers practical medicine while you roll your eyes.

Kung Lao

- is also sick.

- You both are idiots.

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asimpwithfreetime · 1 year

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Our baby (Yandere! Platonic! Sullys x sickly born! Daughter/sister! Reader)

Summary: Y/n was born sickly, scaring all her family a few times in her life with that condition. Now she is doing better but they are all overprotective of her now. (Just a bunch of cute fluff scenes with them and then yandere stuff)

General warnings: yandere behavior, yandere sully family, manipulating/ fear tripping yandere! Jake, violent! Neytiri, fights between Neteyam and Lo’ak, purring! Loak,

Content warnings: English isn’t my first language and this hasn’t been proofread.

[ 3rd Person POV ]

The Sully family was really close, all of them orbiting around Y/n. Y/n was born sickly and usually got ill more times in a year.

Everyone took good care of her. From her protective parents to her little sister, Tuk. Do not forget about her three older siblings that would do absolutely ANYTHING for her.

Jake never let her do anything remotely dangerous, what if his baby got hurt? He wouldn’t survive it. Also, why did she need to know that, she already had him, right?

“You ready, baby girl?” Jake asked his daughter, bringing her close to his ikran. She wanted to fly with one but he didn’t let her. Instead, they could fly together. He helped her up and sat behind her. Once she steadied her posture, he held her in place and they started flying.

At first it was fun but suddenly, the ikran almost crashed into the ground a few times. Jake protected Y/n. She didn’t know he was doing it on purpose. She screamed and cried, holding her dad as a life line.

“There, there, my baby” he cooed once on land. “This is why I don’t let you fly, I don’t want you hurt” he said. She hugged him tightly in between sniffles.

Neytiri was at a whole other level. With a simple “NO” and a hiss she would have everything settled. She even blackmailed and threatened a bunch of Na’vi in the clan to tell her daughter off whenever she tried to sneak around. If other people convinced Y/n, she wouldn’t be the bad guy.

She would be always there for her. As the daughter of the Tsa’hìk she new a lot about medicine and she would cure her baby. She knew how fragile Y/n was and she wanted to protect her baby. She never got aggressive against her, but Neytiri would punch to literal pulp anyone who tried to tell Y/n she didn’t need her family on her all the time.

Neteyam needed Y/n as he needed to breathe. She was his everything. Jake was really stern on him and he could always run to Y/n and still be seen as a hero and a role model. He loved the way she admired her big brother. He liked being appreciated.

He has fought Lo’ak over who loved her more in the past, close enough to draw blood. Jake had stopped them but it was always the same. Neteyam would cuddle with Y/n whenever she was sick, even if it was contagious. He didn’t mind. If he got sick taking care and loving his baby sister, then so be it. Eywa sent him the mission of being there with her. And don’t even think about dating. Neteyam would get caught, but he would kill any boy that looked at her more than twice.

Lo’ak teases Y/n’s sickness sometimes, only if she was going to laugh or crack a smile. He loved her laugh, it made him fill useful. Y/n was his reason to go on. He would be lost without her. In a forest of darkness, she was his moon, his night sky and his guide. She didn’t know it, but she was.

He loved holding her close when she got better from an illness, hearing her heartbeat and purring happily lulling her to sleep.

Lo’ak loved to get on fights just to get treated by his sister, she had such a gentle care that he couldn’t deny it. And maybe he didn’t create fights sporadically. He would fight Na’vi he knew had a crush on Y/n. He would teach them a lesson.

Kiri wasn’t violent physically, but verbally. She had destroyed a lot of people just with the power of the word. And whenever someone made fun of her sister for being sickly or for being weak, or someone would DARE to be in love with Y/n, she would make their live a living hell.

With Y/n she was all soft and gentle. As Y/n wasn’t allowed out alone, Kiri would bring her flowers, rocks and everything interesting she found while going for a walk. That way Y/n could experiment the wonders of Pandora form the safety of her home.

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seresinhangmanjake · 4 months

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The One I Want: Part 10

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: very likely typos, fluffy stuff, cursing i think.

Words: 3157

The One I Want Masterlist

The words ‘I’ll be fine’ are still ringing in your ear, drilled into your brain from the excessive number of times they’d been said or texted in the last ten hours. From the moment you stepped out of your bedroom door this morning, Jake began insisting on picking you up from the shop following your shift. He insisted before you even had a chance to suggest an alternative plan for your day. As soon as you opened your mouth, he had his hand up and head shaking to stop you.

“Don’t even say it,” he said, “I’ll be there to get you, same as always,” to which you responded with what might as well be your new catchphrase: “I’ll be fine.”

His attempts to put his foot down on the matter were unsuccessful as you pointed out every reason why finding your own means of transportation after work is the best solution. He rolled his eyes at “It’s your birthday, Jake,” and snorted at “Your party at the bar starts an hour and a half before my shift ends,” but finally surrendered to “If you’re late, your friends will be disappointed. They mean too much to you for that.” Then he sighed and nodded and continued about his morning routine as you did yours before you headed to the shop. Though you thought you’d won, you received multiple “Are you sure?” texts that were also answered with “I’ll be fine.” And you are fine. Your shift was dull, uneventful, and you had no issue securing a quick ride to The Hard Deck.

Hopping out of the back of the driver’s car is a struggle with the number of bags hanging off your arms. Between your purse, Jake’s present, and the clothes you wore to work shoved into a grocery bag—which were switched with the casual, green knee-length dress you’re wearing—you’re weighed down.

“Need some help there, Sweetness?” Javy is one of few lingering outside the bar, and the only person you know within sight. He smiles and the arms crossed over his chest bounce with his chuckle. Before you answer, he walks over to snatch both your purse and the grocery bag in his hands. “I’m gonna toss these in Jake’s truck. No one will bother them,” he says.

In his brief absence, you stand a little straighter and brush the stray hairs back behind your ear. A low whistle coming from behind you causes you to flinch until you realize it’s from your friend as he makes his way back over to you.

“You're definitely lookin’ lovely,” he teases, and you snort.

“Quit it.”

“No can-do, sweetness. Too pretty to ignore.”

Heat floods your cheeks and you look down at the ivy-green material flowing around your body. It’s about as simple a dress you could find—well, that Millie could help you find after insisting on leaving behind the jeans—but it’s much more than anything you’ve worn in the past. Social events have never been your cup of tea. Not being invited out has left you slim on practice, and that includes every aspect down to your choice of clothing. While Millie did help you pick it out, it doesn’t necessarily mean she is an expert either, but you have no way of knowing for sure. “Is it too much?”

“Not a chance,” Javy replies. “You look amazing. And you happen to be the very reason I am out here instead of in there.”

“Meaning…”

“As Jake’s top-tier friend, I want to be the one to personally deliver his favorite present. Now that you’re here, I can do that,” he says with a wink before holding out his elbow for you to take.

—

Jake’s eyes are already on the door when you walk in, finding you instantly, and his entire body perks up like a man just shot with a bolt of life. Shoulders lose the little bit of slump there was from forearms resting on the high-top table and eyebrows drop their pinch as he watches your every step toward him. Through the mass of bodies Javy assists in weaving you through, Jake’s stare is impressive. It’s steady and he doesn’t lose you, not for a second.

When you reach him, Javy loudly declares “The contest is over! I just won best present.” He then releases you to round the group and pops open a bottle of beer with the edge of the table. By the multiple marks on the wood surface, you imagine—hope, anyway—that Penny doesn’t mind. However, if anyone were to follow her rules and respect the property she requests be respected, it would be this group.

As you stand there greeting the rest of the crew, you can still feel those green eyes. A few other pairs dart back and forth between you and Jake. Tension bubbles around the back corner of the room where the modest party is set up, but it’s not an aggressive tension from distress or concern of discomfort; it’s a tension buzzing wildly with excitement. And from the smiles on faces and the little redhead you’ve bonded with bouncing on her toes, you can begin to guess where this buzzing, humming, zapping energy is coming from.

They know. You’re not sure why a flash of surprise moves through you. Of course, they know. Of course, Jake told them. They’re his best friends. They’re the family he made after the devastation of having his own taken from him. His sharing of what’s happened between you over the last week is normal, so normal that it’s unfamiliar. One more thing you’ll have to get used to if Jake continues to pull you out of the existence you’ve known for so long.

“Hi,” he says. It rides on a heavy exhale that you can barely hear through the cacophony of voices filling the bar.

Jake’s friends appear to go back to their conversations, but they’re no good at disguising their true intentions. Their ears are alert as eyes rely on the strength of their peripheral vision to catch either your or Jake’s next move. A tight squeeze with roaming hands, a deep kiss, an arm wrapping possessively around a shoulder or waist—they’re clearly eager to witness it all, but the anticipation hanging in the air is snuffed out by Jake leaning in and innocently brushing his lips over your cheek. To your side, there is a collective murmuring of disappointment that is, again, poorly disguised.

“You get here ok? I mean, you know, without complication?” Jake asks. A nod joins your budding grin.

“Easy-peasy.” He stares more, his fingers traveling from your elbow to your wrist, and you suddenly remember what’s clutched in your hands. “Oh, I got you this,” you say, holding up the bag. It’s made of a thin, golden paper that’s priced way too high for its quality with clashing orange tissue sticking out of it, and it’s about four sizes too big for the gift you got him, but it was all the shop had last minute.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s your birthday. That’s what people do,” you counter, because even though you’ve never received a present on your birthday, Jake is the type of guy who always should. You hold the bag higher, forcing him to take it.

“Thank you,” he says before turning to set the bag on the table. It’s then that you see the remnants of paper and bows scattered across the wooden surface. Piled on a couple of stools behind Bob are the gifts he has already opened. Jake’s hand starts to dig through the bright orange tissue paper.

“You’re going to open it right now?” you ask, having previously imagined there would be at least a sliver less of attention on the two of you when he does. Your fingers of one hand begin to fiddle with the fingers of the other.

“Sure, why not?” His hand pauses and he looks at you a little harder. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“N-No, it’s fine.” A blond brow raises. “Really, it is.”

He waits a second longer before resuming his discarding of the paper. When he looks inside, his hand retreats, and he watches your gift at the bottom of the bag as if it might start moving on its own. Then his head shakes and he grins ear to ear and he reaches back in to pull it out. The brows of the other aviators pinch in confusion at the globe sitting in the palm of Jake’s hand. In all of its cheap glory, it contains a beach scene with plenty of unnatural sparkly snow settled at the bottom of the liquid which is quickly disturbed by Jake’s light shaking. He chuckles. Then chuckles some more. Crinkles deepen at the corners of his eyes.

“I don’t get it,” Rooster mutters, only to have Millie elbow him in the side.

“You don’t have to,” she scolds. “Now hush.”

Despite Jake’s laughter, when he places the snow globe back in the bag you fear you’ve somehow fucked up. That it’s not as cute as you imagined he would think. That he’d rather you have gotten him nothing over something so silly. But then he faces you, takes your hand, and as he starts to walk away from the table, whispers, “Come with me.”

As you’re led away you glance over your shoulder to see that your friends are all in different states. Nat and Bob are exchanging glances and snickering at the birthday boy’s rapid departure, Millie is smacking her boyfriend’s hand as he reaches for the golden bag, and Javy smirks along with the statement “That certainly didn't take long.”

You look ahead, but before you can fully catch up with your surroundings, you’re yanked through a door and pushed up against the other side of it as a mouth firmly presses to yours. Jake’s palm smacks the surface next to you, blindly feeling around for the deadbolt, and the thud from its turn echoes in the empty bathroom. Then his hands cup your cheeks and you melt as he pulls you in closer.

At a different time, with a different man, unmanageable thoughts would be taking control of your senses right now. Your fingers would be stiffening and your eyes would be snapping open, darting around to take in every square inch of the room in search of signs of other people. You would be listening for any and every sound with such intensity that you’d have a decent count on the number of footsteps passing by the other side of the door. You wouldn’t be letting yourself go or forget your troubles or feel for a single moment because you know what this behavior looks like. You know how others often perceive it. In the midst of past frenzied kisses, your brain would deteriorate into a fractured mess. Ten percent of your mind would struggle to focus on the wandering hands and lips attached to yours; fifteen percent would go to wondering if anyone saw you sneak into the bathroom with a man; twenty would be spent worrying you’ll receive looks of judgment and pity once you rejoin the bar; twenty-five would be questioning why you’re choosing to be in the position you’re in when you know it won’t end well; and the remaining thirty percent would be trying to prematurely push away the shame to come when the somewhat intoxicated man kissing you in the bar bathroom decides he is done.

It’s not a different time, though. You’re not with a different man. You’re exactly where you are, with the man you are with, and you don’t care about anything but him.

Jake is pulled in with hands fisted in the material of his shirt. He’s your only source of stability and direction as he turns your bodies and walks you backward. When your lower back meets the edge of the sink, you separate the kiss and instinctually jump up. Of course you jump. You always jump in these situations. But this time when your bottom lands on top of the counter, you don’t second guess the man whose hips are settling between your spread thighs, whose eyes gaze at you like you’re the most incredible thing they've ever seen, whose hands are threading into your hair, whose lips are once again claiming yours.

His tongue teases the seam of your lips and when you part them so it can slip inside to brush along yours, muffled moans merge. The fingers hidden within the strands of your hair tighten into fists. They stay there until your own hands begin to explore. One index finger curls through a belt loop, tugging inward to remove what little distance remains between you. The other is the first on that hand to dip under the hem of his shirt and stroke over a patch of tanned skin just above the button of his jeans. You love how he feels there—hard with thick muscle but soft from the trail of hair that disappears under a band of denim. Jake shudders against you, and it seems to serve as a reminder that there is more of you for him to touch as well.

With your hair freed, a hand grasps your outer thigh where your dress has ridden up. Fingertips knead flesh as an arm snakes around your waist. A squeak of surprise gets stuck in your throat when that arm jerks forward, unexpectedly managing to inch your bottom closer to the edge of the counter.

There is so much happening, so much to absorb, and you don’t have a chance to mentally address the tick of uncertainty that never showed itself. Instead, you are simply full of the feeling that none of this scares you. Not a bit of it. Not the strength of his arm around you. Not the hand that has begun to slide up your thigh and under the hem of your dress to the swell of your ass. Not the pressing of his hips into the space between your legs. Not the heat he gives off that fights the chill of the room. Not his teeth nibbling your bottom lip, or the whimpers it draws forth that with anyone else would have you shrinking in embarrassment. You’re so far from afraid that you've crossed into happily addicted territory.

His mouth vanishes from yours to latch onto your neck. The sound you make at the new sensation has Jake’s hold on you tightening.

“All because of a—” you gasp from a teasing lick under your ear, “a snow globe?”

You’ve learned that Jake likes to leave trails of his kisses; mark after mark to show the places he’s been. It is between the kisses of this trail from your ear to your shoulder that you hear “Partly the snow globe,” after one kiss, “partly this dress,” after another, and then “mostly just because it’s you.”

Jake chuckles when you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck. You could let him continue on for hours—would, too—but a banging on the door snaps you out of your blissful haze.

Cursing, your spine straightens like a rod. “J-Just a second!” you yell, patting Jake’s shoulder. He hums into your sensitive skin, sending vibrations over your pulse. “Jake, I know you heard that. People want in.” There’s another knock, and another. Leaning back and placing your hands on his cheeks, you force Jake to look at you. “Time for you to leave.”

He holds his finger up. “One condition.”

“No conditions,” you say as you nudge him aside and hop off the counter. “There are women out there who have to pee.”

It’s a boom this time, leaving no question as to the person’s impatience. Twisting around, you glance over yourself in the mirror. Your lips are stolen, hair wild, and as you go about fixing it back into place, Jake’s arms wrap around your waist.

“Promise me we can continue this at home,” he says. “I don't want to stop.”

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. “Maybe…if you go.”

“Deal.” One more kiss lands on your shoulder before Jake is unbolting the door and jerking it open for whoever is on the other side. He peeks his head out, glances left and right, then looks back at you. “No one’s here.”

“You still have to go.” His face falls into a pout. “Don’t look at me like that. All of your friends are waiting for you, anyway.”

“They're waiting for you, too.”

“It's not my birthday. And I need to fix myself up a bit.”

Jake grins. Watching his reflection in the mirror, you see his eyes linger on your face and chest, enjoying the flush he caused that is more prominent under the fluorescents. They then make a slow line down your body, taking the time to appreciate your ass along the way. “That really is a great dress.”

Your flush deepens. “Go,” you demand, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He winks and then he’s gone.

A squeeze traps the air in your lungs. It caves in your chest, making the thumping of your heart all the more demanding of your attention, and you roll your eyes when it becomes clear that your body is reacting to you missing him. Two seconds apart and you already want him back, and now you feel like a giddy fool; a horny teenager around the first boy to ever truly want her.

Blowing out that trapped breath, you run your fingers through your hair to tame it. It doesn’t manage to return to its previous state, but there is nothing you can do about it. Neither can you remove that pink shade from your cheeks and chest despite the damp paper towel you blot over your skin. You look half-sexed, and it’s comically obvious. But maybe if you channel Jake Seresin energy and walk back to your friends’ table without looking guilty, they won’t look at you like you have something to be guilty of. Not guilty in a demeaning sense, of course, but guilty in a way that will have them shooting teasing looks at you right before Nat and Millie pull you away from the men for details of your actions.

That will have to be your plan, because there is no chance they won’t notice your altered appearance, especially when they immediately knew why you and Jake were disappearing to begin with.

Shaking your head, you tug at the bottom of your dress to make sure all of its seams line up with where they are supposed to be on your body. When you decide it’s about as good as it’s going to get, you head for the door and pull it open, but your path is blocked.

“Good thing he finally left,” Brit says. She steps forward and to avoid a collision you have to take a step back into the bathroom. “Now we have a chance to talk.”

---

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake seresin x plus size!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction

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theemporium · 1 year

Note

could you do a stiles x siren reader where they are studying but end up having sex and once they finish the reader is a bit scared because she thinks stiles only had sex with her because of how alluring she is but turns out that he genuinely likes her because she’s a good person! being a siren is a plus in his book 😘😘

“When will I ever need this in my life?”

Stiles lifted his head from his book, peeking at the page you were currently staring at and let out a snort. “Probably never.”

“So why do I have to learn it?” you whined, head falling to rest on the textbook that was starting to become the cause of your headache.

You had been struggling with a few of your classes. In between dealing with splitting time between being on land and in water, helping fight whatever supernatural problem had lingered into Beacon Hills and getting a somewhat normal sleep schedule—it had been hard to keep up with classes, let alone do well in them.

Stiles had been kind enough to offer some help, thus leading to the odd studying sessions you two planned in between your hectic schedules. But it still felt a bit redundant to learn how to calculate the volume of a cone when you had just spent the night before stopping a sacrificial cult take over Beacon Hills.

“The unfortunate way of the world,” Stiles said with a sigh before reaching for the textbook you were using as a pillow, and instead throwing it on the floor beside his own stuff. “Let’s take a break.”

“I need a nap,” you grumbled, words slightly muffled before you turned your head to look at the boy. Your eyes widened a little when you realised how close he was.

“A nap sounds good to me,” he murmured with a soft smile.

“I thought you’d be too restless for a nap,” you teased lightly.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Funny one.”

“I’m hilarious, I know,” you grinned back, only for your smile to damper slightly when he reached out to push some hair behind your ear. You could practically feel your cheeks burning.

“You can take a nap if you want to,” he said in a soft voice. “I’ll just find something else to do in the meantime.” And you hated the way his sincerity choked you, making your chest feel warm and tight all at once.

You surprised yourself when you leaned forward, pressing your lips against his for a split few seconds before you pulled away, your brain seeming to catch up with you. “I’m so sorry–”

Stiles didn’t give you a chance to continue before he was kissing you again, a lot more sure and passionate than yours had been and you couldn’t help but sink into the kiss. You didn’t even fight him as he rolled you onto your back, crawling on top of you as his hands began to wander under the fabric of the hoodie you had been wearing.

But there was a voice in the back of your head, screaming and yelling and ruining the feeling of his fingers sliding along your sides.

“Stiles, wait,” you whispered against his lips, eyes closed when the boy pulled away.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed in concern as his hand gently cupped your cheek.

“I—” but you paused, unsure how to even say the words screaming in your head. Because you knew how this went, you knew that nobody was able to resist the pull of the allure and even if you didn’t mean to use it, it happened.

You knew that the second the deed was done, he would be snapped out of it and you didn’t think you could handle Stiles being pissed at you for being caught in the allure.

“We shouldn’t,” you whispered, unable to bring yourself to look at him. “You’ll regret it.”

Stiles frowned. “Why would I?”

“It’s the allure, Stiles,” you sighed as you finally glanced up at him. “It’s making you want to do things you might not realise you don’t want to do.”

Stiles blinked before a smile grew on his face, unable to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape. “Yeah, because the three year crush I have on you has nothing to do with it.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Baby, trust me when I say, doing this—” he paused as he gestured between you two. “Has nothing to do with your powers or you being a siren, I promise.”

“Stiles—”

“It’s got everything to do with the fact I think you’re beautiful inside and out,” he murmured shyly as he flashed you a smile. “And that I’ve been practically obsessed with you for ages. Ask anyone really, especially Scott. He would tell you just how—”

You leaned up to press your lips against his, smiling as the boy quickly melted into the kiss.

“You like me for me?” you whispered against his lips.

“I like you for you, baby,” he whispered back.

You smiled against his lips before pushing him to sit up, giving yourself the space you needed to pull your hoodie over your head with your t-shirt quickly following. You laid there, sprawled across his bed with just your shorts and bra on, and it took everything in his power to not come there and then.

“Shit,” he hissed out. “This is way better than my dreams. Like, way way better.”

You raised your brows. “You dream about me, Stilinski?”

“All the time.”

“And what did you do to me in those dreams?” you asked as you trailed your fingers along the hem of his shirt, tugging on it when you wanted him to take it off and he quickly followed the demand.

“I, uh,” Stiles’ cheeks burned hot. “Well, I…uh…”

“Show me, Stiles,” you whispered as you sat up, pressing soft kisses along his bare chest. “Show me what you did in your fantasies.”

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath.

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fic #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf one shot #teen wolf fic #teen wolf smut

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orchidsangel · 6 months

Text

"NORMAL" FOR YOU (JASON TODD)

notes/cw ~ GN!reader, fluff, minorish angst (idk to me it's minor), has been renamed, (also this is only my second time ever writing in second person, i'm still learning so plz cut me some slack)

It’s 4:36 in the morning when the soft thud of boots landing on the fire escape outside your apartment interrupts the sleep you were finally starting to slip into; and it’s 4:37 when the window in your bedroom is pried open by large gloved hands, followed by the maneuvering of a large figure through said window.

Even with increased agility from years of training, he still manages to knock over a couple of the trinkets occupying your windowsill; and even though you can feel how tired he is from feet away, he still picks each item up off the floor, examining the objects for cracks or breaks before placing them back in their rightful spots.

“I don’t know why you keep coming through that window.” Drowsiness drips from your voice, but you know it’s nothing compared to what he’s feeling. “I cleared off the one in the living room to avoid this exact situation.”

“Coming in this way is just better.”

“Yeah, maybe for you, but not for my stuff.”

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he walks over to your side of the bed, placing his knee on the edge and his hands beside your head. His palms dig into the plush cotton of the pillows and blankets around you, and he hovers for a second, before dipping down and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I like when you’re the first thing I see after patrol.”

You look up at him to see the sleazy smile you know is on his face, but all you can focus on is the exhaustion evident in his features. Bags under his eyes and deep-set lines that would disappear with a couple of nights of good sleep riddle his face, and your mouth turns downward in a frown as you think about how badly he needs a night off.

He notices the way you react to the effects of his nightly activities and immediately gauges what's on your mind. “I can't,” he says, pulling back from you, standing up and turning around, starting the process of removing his tactical gear.

You suck in a tense breath, the sudden change in atmosphere giving you whiplash.

You watch his back as he removes the multiple layers of protective clothing that keep him coming home to you.

“Can’t what?” It’s a dumb question that you both know the answer to and have always known the answer to.

It’s a dumb question that you both know the answer to, but you ask anyway even though the answer remains the same and has remained the same since you found out about his ‘occupation.'

He lets out a sigh, moving towards the dresser and opening a drawer to find some pajamas.

“I can’t take a night off.” He lets his head drop, hands gripping the knobs, “and I can’t give you the life that you want…the normal life that you deserve.” The words come out strained, like they’re paining him, and they’re definitely paining you.

You refrain from saying anything, knowing that when he gets like this it’s better to give him some time to let his rationale come back instead of trying to sway his thoughts.

A beat of silence goes by, and he pulls out some clean clothes then disappears into the bathroom across the hallway, not before gently closing the bedroom door behind him, ever the considerate boyfriend, even in his self-loathing moments.

The back of your head hits the pillow behind you, and you exhale lightly. Eyes drooping and body feeling heavy, you pull the blanket up to your neck and try to let sleep takeover.

A few minutes pass before the soft sound of hinges squeaking interrupts the silence around you, and Jason shuffles around the room, quietly locking the window and putting stuff away.

The bed dips and he climbs under the covers, sliding one arm under your head and the other over your hip. Even in a sleepy, semi-agitated state you readily accept his warmth as a safety net.

“I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t want to be.”

You feel him sigh against the back of your head, pulling you as close to him as possible, “I know.”

“Do you really?” You say slowly, fighting sleep. “Because it often feels like you don’t.”

No response.

“I don’t know what you think ‘normal’ is Jason, but if it doesn’t include you then I don’t want it.”

“I’m sorry," He whispers tentatively.

And your heart aches knowing the amount of love you give him may never be enough to heal the deep wounds leftover from years of being made to feel like a burden.

“You don’t have to apologize, but you do need to stop questioning my decision-making skills.” Your body shifts in his arms so you’re face to face with him, “I could do a whole lot worse than you.”

He lets out a wry chuckle that hides some sadness in it, “yeah…you’re right.”

You hum, satisfied with his lack of protest, and open your eyes long enough to see a content look on his face, before closing them once more.

For a few minutes you lay in silence wrapped in his arms, reveling in the comfort of each other's company.

But eventually you lose the battle to sleep, and your brain drifts off into a dream land. Everything in the world around you is temporarily gone while you explore the expanse of your subconscious, and a world where Jason takes a night off every once in a while.

“I love you.” He says quietly, barely audible.

And he knows you don’t hear it, so he’ll say it again in the morning; and every morning after that as long as you’re by his side.

#divider by cafekitsune #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd i’ll love you forever

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webslingingslasher · 8 months

Note

hi! I love the way you write. could you do something in which peter thinks he has no chance with reader as himself so he flirts with her as spiderman but eventually she finds out

*cleaning out my inbox*

sitting in a lawn chair on the roof of your building, spider-man sitting on the ledge, swinging his legs as he spoke, you listened to his rambling about an old woman he helped today.

it's been the dozenth time you've met up and talked, caught by him one afternoon when you were hiding away. you'd been healthy friends since, mostly surface value and mostly him venting, but this time was different.

spider-man didn't get personal, and you understood why, but since he didn't, you didn't. spider-man is talking animatedly but all you can think about is peter parker, sometimes life just wasn't fair.

you were caught when you didn't laugh with him at a joke, he tilted his head, 'you're quiet today, you doin' alright?'

you shrug, you feel emotionally numb.

'stuff at school, it's dumb. everything is dumb.'

spider-man adjusts himself, 'wanna talk about it?'

'i don't know, have you...' you pause to collect your thoughts, clearing your throat you start again. 'have you ever tried to make a move on someone but, like, telepathically?'

'uhhh...'

'ugh, i don't know. like, hey, if i stare at you enough and say 'ask me out' on a loop in my head, they'll catch the hint and do it.'

spider-man thinks about it, 'i think my version of that would be hey, if i avoid eye contact and pretend you don't exist, maybe you'll get a crush on me and ask me out, or avoid me forever. i'm okay with either.'

you laugh, you feel like he opened up to you, and he's the city's hero, maybe you can open up too.

'well, mine's name is peter parker and i'm pretty sure he has no idea i exist. i mean, not that i've actually tried to talk to him before, because he seems very nice but he also makes me super nervous and i think i would lose all ability to speak.'

spider-man has wide eyes, 'so, yeah. i guess when he didn't notice me for the millionth time today it clicked that the ship has sailed and i have to move on. shit sucks, dude.'

'no! no, no, no, you can't give up! he likes you too! i mean, what if he likes you too?'

'he doesn't know i exist, it's fine.'

'he knows you exist! i'd put money on the line he was doing that thing where he pretends you don't exist because he thought he had no chance or knew he'd fumble the bag so he deemed asking you out worthless!'

your eyes narrowed, 'i'm worthless?'

spider-man clutched the sides of his mask, his voice coming out squeaky. 'you're such a girl! you only hear one thing!'

'you called me worthless.'

'no, i said that i thought i had no chance and embarrassing myself just to get rejected would be a terrible waste of my time.'

you should be more focused on his switch from third to first point of view, but you crossed your arms instead.

'so... i'm a waste of time?'

spider-man groans, it's dramatic. in one motion in tugs his mask off and peter parker revealed.

'you're not a waste of time,' he gestures between yourselves, hinting at all the hours you've spent together, 'obviously.'

'and i'd really, really like to take you on a date.'

you hum, 'is this the part where i avoid you forever?'

a shy smile, 'i hope not.'

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker fluff #my writing

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deanbrainrotwritings · 2 months

Text

— DEMONOLOGY AND HEARTACHE

SUMMARY : dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress

PAIRING : priest!dean winchester x demon!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : explicit(18+), smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), corruption kink, praise kink, priest au, priest kink, sub/dom dynamics, sub!dean, defiling holy stuff

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from an atreyu song. dean’s not undercover, just pure corruption. I’m going to hell. my sister said his seed is holy, lmaoo. this one fills my “Go to hell!”/“Where do you think I came from?” square for my @jacklesversebingo card. enjoy Dean’s holy seed (and I’m sorry if y’all are religious, I used to be religious, too, to make it worse) XX

Green eyes illuminated by moonlight. They flit across the dark and empty space of the nave casually. There’s a draught that makes him shudder, but he remains unphased. He makes sure the lights are off, double checks that the doors and windows are closed, and continues onward to his room to rest for the night.

He’s still in his vestments, blending in with the darkness. He only becomes darker in the shadows of the hallways, making his way to the staircase leading to his room. The wooden stairs creak beneath his formal shoes, olden oak that’s more silent in the day thunders in the silent dark.

A crucifix greets him when he’s at the top of the staircase and making the sign of the cross automatically, but slowly, with reverence. Moonlight kisses his delicate features; green eyes twinkle like a billion stars, gold lashes like the lustre of the sun’s reflection on the moon’s surface, freckles show clearly now beneath the exposing light.

His splendour is unmatched even inside the grand cathedral.

He makes his way blindly to his bedroom and wipes a hand over his stubble, scratching lightly at his jaw, thoughtfully planning out his next day. He gets to his room and begins to toe off his shoes as he pushes the door open all the way.

He expects moonlight to strike his face, but it’s quiet and dark. He can smell firewood and something foul, unfamiliar. He thinks nothing of it, he can feel the breeze pushing between his curtains, and assumes it’s something outside. He turns around to shut the door and holds the wall for balance as he pulls his shoes off all the way.

“Father,” he hears a soft voice, unknown to him. He turns quickly, half-scared, half-confused: how did someone get up here and why is there a woman in my room? were the first questions asked in his mind. The dim light on his bedside table lights up his room and reveals a nun in her nightgown sitting on his bed.

He recognises her now and relaxed, only slightly. She’s new and arrived two weeks ago. Sister… something or another; it’s been a busy couple of weeks.

She watches him curiously, her brows furrow and her eyes mysterious. She leans back casually on her arms, too relaxed for his comfort. The top of her nightgown undone, two strings hang loosely over her breasts. A chill teases his spine and rides up to the top of his head, prickling the freckled skin of his body. He doesn’t move.

“What are you doing here?” He asks quietly, offering his hand to her to get her to stand from his bed. She stares at it indifferently. “You should be in your quarters,” he adds, reaching out for her arm instead.

“I’ve been thinking about what I confessed to you yesterday, Father,” she murmurs, shaking her arm out of his hand. He sighs tiredly, but smiles kindly at her anyway. He can’t remember her confession, everyone confesses multiple times about multiple things, and goes to him—searching for repentance.

“You’re forgiven, you need to move forward,” he reassures her.

“I don’t think I can,” she replies almost instantly. He raises a brow, but lets her continue. “Does that… make me a bad person?” She asks, concern and guilt laces her voice.

“No, it makes you human.” He purses his lips and takes her soft hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You should sleep, we can talk tomorrow,” he tries again, loosening his grip on her cool hand, but she keeps holding onto it.

He narrows his eyes, his jaw clenches when she lifts her cotton gown. He raises a brow when she’s standing up on her knees, and a crease forms between his eyebrows. Her other hand curls around the back of his neck and he opens his mouth to question her, moving back slightly. Instead, her grip becomes firm and her warm lips press against his lips and he stiffens, confused.

He can feel her hand around his wrist moving and her gown ruffles. He feels her warmth beneath his fingers, wetness against his fingertips, that makes him gasp and pull away. He snatches his hand away from between her legs and sees that she’s smiling knowingly.

“What are you doing?” He asks in disbelief, but his heart is pounding, sending blood to his cock. “You need to leave,” he clears his throat. Heat, like hellfire, washes over his body, and turns away to hide himself when his face flushes and his cock twitches.

“Come on, Father,” she murmurs provocatively. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before turning to face her with a glare. “I know what you’ve been dreaming of,” she laughs mischievously, sitting back on her legs. She pulls down the top of her nightgown, freeing her breast to play with her nipple. Her other hand moves down between her legs, she opens herself by parting her legs, and starts to tease her wet slit while he watches.

“Go to hell!” He shouts at her, looking away and trying to get out of his room. He reaches the doorknob and gets the door open only for it to slam shut.

“Where do you think I came from?” She asks darkly, and his stomach sinks. He shakes the doorknob wildly and pulls as hard as he can, but it doesn’t budge. He feels her hand grab the back of his shirt and she flings him across the room so he lands on the bed. He scrambles up on it and tries to get away when her eyes flash completely black. “You’re getting rusty, Dean, ignoring all those omens,” she shakes her head and tsks, climbing up on the bed with him.

He thinks about what she says, he never thought much about the mutilations because of the wolves that roam freely, or the electrical storms because of the cold and the usage of heaters, or the crop failures due to the weather. He shouldn’t have brushed it off, but he hadn’t encountered demonic activity in years. This whole time, it was circling him and he didn’t even notice.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” he starts to whisper, grabbing the rosary from around his neck. “Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incur-” She grabbed the rosary from him roughly, quieting the exorcism from continuing, and stared at it with a wicked smile before pulling it harshly.

“That won’t work on me, baby.” The beads fell over his body when the rosary snapped. Wooden beads and black beads bounce on his bed, then scatter loudly onto the floor, rolling and sliding across wood until they stop on their own or hit a wall.

“You… you were making me dream all those things,” he accuses breathlessly. She nods wordlessly, stepping in between his parted legs with her hands on his bent knees. She bites her lip, stares lustfully at the black attire he wears. A holy man.

“I know… you liked it,” she whispers, causing him to swallow nervously. “I watched you pleasure yourself every time you woke up,” she admits shamelessly, fingers meeting his belt to get it off. He squirmed and grabbed her hand to stop her, but his cock was hard just remembering his hedonistic actions and the lewd dreams that haunted him every night for weeks. “What was it like dreaming of how soft I feel? Do you think your hand feels as good as I do inside? Do you want my mouth like you loved using it in your dreams?” She continues to tease, leaning over him, hands sliding up the front of his body.

He was warm and taut beneath her hands. His body hums with pleasure, he aches to touch her despite knowing it was wrong. He craves to feel her body beneath his own, wrapped around him so tightly. He hates himself for it, but it’s all his mind could think of, especially when he could feel her warm breath over his tingly lips.

“What do you want from me?” He asks quietly, staring deeply into her black eyes. She blinks and they return to normal eyes again, a sweet smile growing on her face. It could’ve fooled him, that warmth that sparkled inside—it must actually be hellfire.

“I want you to beg me to fuck you, I want you to need it really bad,” she whispered hotly, tracing the buttons on his shirt. He swallowed anxiously, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of her pink lips and soft skin, supple breasts in plain sight, smooth thighs pressed against his. His whole body longed for the feel of her lips, her hands, for everything of hers to be on him.

“I… I can’t do that,” he choked out. He grabs her hands and moves them away from his body then scoots up on his bed to put some distance between them.

“You can,” she encourages him with a wicked smile, crawling up to him. “You will,” she promises, reaching between his legs for his belt.

He squirms, weakly attempting to push her away because that’s what his instincts told him to do. She’s a demon, he’s a priest. She is unholy and he’s supposed to be an intermediary for God, Jesus, the angels, the Holy Spirit, and everything else that’s good. He can’t just lay with a woman, especially when she comes directly from hell.

She didn’t make a single move. She just waited for him and her hair fell prettily over her shoulder when she tilted her head at him expectantly. Her skin looked smooth and her lips were pink and they looked soft. He could easily remember what they looked like around his cock in his dreams. He didn’t want to give in to her, he spent years in the church, he has every scripture memorised, and he’s helped hundreds of people without expecting so much as a thanks.

But he wanted to really feel what he’d felt in his dreams for two weeks. He craved it like he’d never craved sex before—or anything else for that matter. Here, in a holy place was a very sexy woman in his bed, a woman who crawled her way out of hell and became fixated on him. For weeks, she tormented him, planted herself in his dreams and gave him glimpses of her in real life as a nun covered from head to toe.

Now, she sat between his legs, with nothing underneath her sleeping gown. The pure white dress hid the true darkness of her soul. He rubbed his fingers together, though they were dry, his slacks tightened just remembering the feel of her wet folds against his fingertips. He’d never been this hard and desperate before, it usually went away quickly when the guilt of his libidinous thoughts consumed him.

He’d never done anything bad before, never strayed from his teachings or from the rules. Here she was, tempting him to take a bite of her, tempting him to give himself to her for her pleasure, for his pleasure. Demon or not, no one’s ever gone out of their way to get to him, that was a messed up thought, but it turned him on.

“Please,” he chokes out. It shocked him. He stared at her in surprise, but she just looked back at him arrogantly. Slowly, as if waiting for his protest, she tugged his belt and got the leather out of the buckle. He started to breathe heavily, aroused by her gaze and thought of being defiled.

She starts to pull the belt from the loops of his slacks and he willingly lifts his hips when it catches beneath him. He gives in easily when she pops the button out of the slit. He even lets his head fall back into the pillow and rolls his hips upwards when she slowly pulls the zipper down.

She starts to pull his pants down, he can feel the rough scrap of his boxers against his skin when she tries to do it all at once. He doesn’t care anymore, with his thumbs hooked at the sides, he pulls them down with her help. He can feel the cool air kiss his cock, slowly as she exposes him. He moans softly when he’s fully free, he knows there’s precum leaking at the slit, it feels colder.

He feels like a wanton whore and he’s barely made a sound. He can hear the delicate fabric of his clothes hit the floor, it makes him feel more excited.

“Wow, you really are blessed,” she murmurs, her warm breath blowing over his cock. He fists the sheets, feels it twitch instantly, and opens his eyes to stare at her. “It’s just as pretty as the rest of you,” she praises, keeping eye contact with him. He bites his lip and he’s about to respond with a ‘shut up’ when she lets a string of her saliva drip onto his tip.

The words catch in his throat. She leans forward, her soft hair falls over her face, and her tongue makes contact with the warm head of his cock. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when she hums at the taste of him. His body stiffens and it feels even better than he dreamed. When he lets his head fall back into the pillow, he catches a glimpse of the crucifix over his bed. She turned it upside down.

“Father,” she whispers, “don’t look away from me.” He looks back at her, her soft hands manoeuvre his body so he has his knees bent upwards again. He feels exposed, vulnerable, sinful, and dirty.

“Don’t call me that,” he requests softly. He reaches for her jaw to guide her back down onto him. That excites her, he can see her eyes livening. His stomach flutters.

“Dean,” she sneers when she wraps her hand around the base of his cock and starts to twist her hand upwards. He growls lowly, shyly lifts his arm, and puts it over his eyes. “I prefer calling you Father. It makes this way hotter. Don’t you think?” She asks teasingly and then laughs.

“No….” He trailed off, spreading his legs a little wider when she leaned forward to kiss his stomach.

“Call me whatever you want, Father,” she whispers against his skin, trailing her lips downwards as she jerks him off. “Whore, demon, hellspawn… Sister,” she smirks when he whines, then sucks on his hip bone. A red mark blossoms on his skin. “I’m so wet,” she tells him, teasingly flattering her palm over the tip of his dick, “this is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” He watches the little smirk on her face and while he’s curious about what she does in hell, he can feel his impending release.

“Please,” he begs quietly. It makes her stop instead. She puts one hand on the inside of his thigh and spreads him open the way a man would do to a woman and she stares down at him curiously. He wiggles to close his legs but she’s stronger than he is, and keeps him as she has him. She pulls gently at his balls, then pushes, and eventually finds a pace where it starts to feel more intense.

“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs with a chuckle, “you’re so fucking sexy.” He flushes at her words and watches her lean down to suck on his balls. He moans loudly and tangles his hand in her hair, then tugs so she moves upwards. “You’re built like a god, any man would be jealous,” she teases, letting him guide her.

“Do what you did in my dreams,” he suggests, then slid his hand down her shoulder and inside the top of her nightgown. He fondled her breasts and innocently held eye contact with her.

“What did I do?” She asks playfully, placing one small kiss on his leaking cock. He glares at her, but she shrugs like she has no idea what he’s talking about. She continues to tease him instead, bites down on his thigh and sucks until he’s whining.

“Please, suck it,” he begs bashfully, pulling his hand out of the gown. She moves up his body, he’s sure it’s to embarrass him when she stares down at him.

“Suck what?” He groans at her question, lifts both hands to tug frustratedly at his hair. She moves away nonchalantly, slowly begins to lift the white gown upwards, revealing inch by glorious inch of her perfect body. He watches her touch herself with his mouth parted in astonishment, her hands play with her breasts and she teases herself between her legs.

“Suck my cock, please, I want to feel your mouth,” he rushes out quickly. He sits up and takes her waist, dragging her forward until he has his warm mouth on her nipple.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Dean,” she promises, playing with his hair. She rubs her thighs together and lets him switch from one nipple to the other. He stares up at her the whole time, his eyes shimmering with lust. “I hope this haunts you forever,” she sneers. Giving his hair a sharp tug to move him away forcefully and go down on him. He grunts softly and wraps his hand around his cock, slowly sliding a dry hand up and down.

“That’s my job,” she scolds, slapping his hand away. She settles between his legs, and without warning, she wraps her lips around the tip, sending a sharp electric feeling running up his spine. It’s unbelievable how wet she feels around him, how warm her mouth feels engulfing him inch by inch. His stomach becomes taut with the way she runs her tongue along the bottom vein, sucking when she lifts up slightly, then does it over and over.

Her slowness drives him crazy. She was merciless in his dreams, passionate and focused on making him reach the ultimate pleasure, but now, she’s just torturing him. One of her hands follows her mouth and the other slides up his chest beneath the buttoned black shirt. Her nails scrape his chest gently but her fingers brush teasingly against his nipple. He arches his back and moans loudly, he doesn’t care that the night amplifies his voice and carries his pretty noises quickly down the halls of the holy church.

She slides her hand away from his chest and blindly finds his wrist. He grips the sheets tightly, moaning and groaning. The sounds he made travelled to her clit, it pulsed, her walls clenched around nothing, and she dripped between her legs with a flood of warm heat. He let her place his hand on her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. She’s not going to give him what he wants, she wants him to take what he wants. It’s the ultimate goal for her, to make him loosen up and fuck her mouth.

“Please, I want…” he trails off, both his hands now resting on her head. She drools around his cock and hums when he pushes her down farther. She wants to shove him deeper into her, to take him fast and hard, but it turns her on more to make him needy and desperate. To make him be the one that uses her demonic mouth and hellish body for his pleasure.

She holds onto the back of his thighs and pushes them so they’re almost at his chest. When her nose is pressed against his pelvis and she swallows around him, he holds her there.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moans, his balls draw inwards and his stomach coils. She moans softly and starts to pull off him, only to start sucking and bobbing her head up and down just as he wanted her to. He gets louder somehow and rougher, his grip on her hair is almost painful. The sounds of her throat getting fucked makes him shudder and squirm. He needs to cum so bad. “Yes, don’t stop…” he breathes out.

She hums again, he thought it was a promise that she wouldn’t stop, but when he makes that specific grunt he tends to make when he’s about to cum and when he stiffens and gasps, the warmth of her wet mouth is replaced by the drag of cool air from the room.

He whines and his eyes fly open. He watches her smirk and wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. She still has one hand on his thigh, bending him and keeping him open. He gets shy again, but she doesn’t let him keep his dignity. She gets closer to him and she leans over him to whisper, “you taste so good, Father, I’d imagine it’s all the holy fuckery you consume and spew to others…”

“It turns me on. You make me so wet and needy. Your mouth is mine.” She kisses him softly, even though her words offend him. He glares at her for her blasphemy, but his eyes close when her soft, sweet lips make contact with his. The tenderness of her kiss fools him, takes his mind off her offensive expressions, and keeps him complacent.

Her tongue prods at his lips. Her lewdness makes him eager, she’s thorough, licking across his lips slowly. When he opens his mouth to her, her kiss is hungry. She traces the inside of his mouth with her tongue, like a cartographer, she’s precise and she makes him breathless. She barely pulls away, allowing him to catch his breath temporarily before resuming.

She’s warm when her tongue brushes against his, velvety and sweet. She tastes like wine and fruit, bitter and sweet. The taste of her is divine, opposing her unholy nature and the filthy words she uses to worship him. She pulls away again and straddles his hips. He barely recovers from her kiss when he feels her rub herself over his cock.

He feels his stomach do flips like a dog excited to show his master tricks for a treat. She moans softly and continues rolling her hips. He bends his knees and grasps her thighs painfully, watches between their bodies how she slides her wetness up and down his cock. She begins to unbutton his shirt and carelessly throw the clerical collar behind her when she fully gets the shirt open.

“Wait,” he stops her breathlessly, “is this your body?”

She raises a brow and looks down at herself with a nod. “Had to dig it out of a hole in the forest. I was a witch, a badass one. Those stupid hunters,” she grumbles the last bit under her breath, lifts herself up and positions his tip at her entrance. He raises a brow, too, a smile of amusement grew on his lips as he bit down on it. “Why? Do you like it?” She smirks, but his response is cut off by a moan when she lowers herself on his cock.

She feels even better than he dreamed. He huffs out a breath, he feels sweatier with the shirt and the suit jacket he still wears, but if she doesn’t feel like letting him take it off, he doesn’t mind. She grinds down on him and finds his hands to place one on her breasts and the other between her legs.

“You feel fucking amazing inside me, Dean,” she praises. His stomach lurches, the use of his name turns him on more, and he bucks his hips up. With a little moan she starts to lift herself up, he can feel every inch of her against his cock, the wetness, the warmth. He doesn’t think he’ll last as long as he did in his dreams. He carefully thumbs between her folds and feels for her clit. Her gasp guides him and he gently flicks it until she’s riding him faster. She leans back against his bent legs, arches her back, and he squeezes her breast roughly. “That’s right, you’re doing so good,” she says softly, spreading her legs to open herself more to his adept fingers.

Her words spur him on, the bedsprings start to squeak, the headboard starts to hit the wall, the upside down crucifix rattles on the wall. His senses are high. She feels amazing wrapped around his cock, her breathy moans fuel the fire of his orgasm. She tightens and squeezes around him, walls clamping down and keeping him inside her. He starts to get louder, too, he can’t help it. Groans slip from his lips and he whimpers occasionally, he can feel her react each time, and he doesn’t plan on shutting up.

“You’re so good, so goddamned perfect,” she cries softly, it’s the hottest thing he’s heard or seen. She gets sloppy and desperate, staring down at him covetously. He stares back, even if he wants to shut his eyes and hide away from her gaze. He rubs around her clit faster and watches her fall apart, little by little.

She sounds, looks, and feels even hotter. In his dreams, he understood her intentions and how hot it would be if they had sex, but the reality of it is far more intense and intimate compared to any of his dreams. She filled his mind with fantasies he’d never had before. Having sex in the confessional, on the altar, in the Bishop’s office, and countless locations that were far too holy—in his opinion—being defiled by both of them. He pinches her nipple roughly, she moans and tightens around him. Then, he flicks her clit faster, watches her seize while whining his name.

“Be a good boy and cum for me, Dean. Want you to fill me up,” she says breathlessly. He throbs inside of her and whimpers involuntarily, feeling himself spill inside her as if his body worked according to her commands.

“God,” he moans, bucking his hips upwards. He abandons her clit and her breast, and bruisingly digs his fingers into her thighs. He moans softly, letting the orgasm take over his body and mind. He pulls her down with both hands on her hips and keeps her on his cock shortly, her walls flutter and she inhales sharply. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes half-open.

“Holy fuck,” she gasps, toes curling as she falls apart at the sensation of his cum warming her up. She slowly moves up and down, letting him feel every inch of her pulsing walls along his throbbing cock. Her fingers find her clit to intensify and lengthen her orgasm, finishing what he’d begun. She doesn’t expect his tenderness, but he sits up and tangles his hand into her hair and kisses her deeply.

He mimics how she’d kissed him earlier. His inexperienced tongue traces the roof of her mouth and he brushes his tongue timidly against hers. She deepens the kiss, encourages him to keep doing what he wants to do and tugs his hair. His quiet moans make her horny again and he pulls away. Now that she’s abandoned her clit, she shoves his clothes off his shoulders.

She kisses his neck and his chest. His mind starts to drift now that he’s basking in the afterglow, her lips ghost downward and she lightly touches his nipple with the tip of her tongue. He stiffens and focuses on her again. She moves off his softened cock which is coated in a mixture of their release. She chuckles and then beholds him in his entirety.

He glows and he’s flushed, pink and shiny with sweat. His cock rests on his thighs and he has a mark on his hip from her lips. His lips are swollen, almost red from biting them, coated in saliva—hers and his. His hair is a mess, sexy and soft. He looks guilty now, but she moves forward and looks him in the eyes when she licks the cum off his sensitive cock.

“Don’t worry, Father,” she murmurs before sucking gently on the tip. He gasps and clutches her hair, pulling her off him forcibly. “Even for this… they’ll forgive you, Dean,” she whispers darkly. She gets off the bed and he watches her walk to the small altar he has. She steals a white cloth then walks around his room curiously. She stops in front of a photograph of Jesus and she opens her legs to clean herself.

His eyes widen as he watches her, “hey, come here.” He takes her attention away successfully and watches her drop her leg to walk towards him. “Why are you interested in me?” Is the first question that comes to mind as he panics. “Will you… be less interested in me if I sin more, like we did tonight?” He has the feeling part of her interest in him is simply the fact that he is the weakest, the most susceptible to sin, lust, and making mistakes.

“No… because you’re not going to stray from your beliefs,” she reassures him. “You actually believe, because of your father. Stay the way you are, Dean. You’re going to repent and you’ll mean it, but when you’re with me… you’ll sin again and I’ll defile you, over and over,” she smiles down at him and then climbs onto his bed again, she settles behind him, leaning against the headboard and the wall.

“Until when?” He asks, turning around to look at her.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, then her eyes flicker down to her body. She parts her folds with two fingers. “Taste me,” she tells him. He tears his eyes from her face to look between her legs. His mouth waters and he slowly gets down into his stomach and stares back up at her. He gently prods her clit with his tongue, her other hand moves into his hair while his tongue slides between her two fingers. “Don’t you worry about the when right now… you and I will have our fun.”

➥ god, if you are above

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weebsinstash · 2 months

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*me, a poor peasant child holding up my plate.*

Please sire, may I have some more platonic yandere Lucifer and Charlie? 🥺

Of course, starving Victorian child! (Also you just said platonic but I wound up writing this as like, mostly family platonic yandere so idk if that's a distinct difference to you but, here ya go!)

-- I feel like these two would really kinda infantilize you, specifically when it comes to violence, drugs, alcohol, and sex. You know how Charlie is clearly an adult woman but it could not be anymore clear that she's still really sheltered and naive, almost like a kid would be? Like the skit she had Pentious and Angel do literally brought up like, no sex before marriage as a sign of being a good person... did her dad ACTUALLY raise her with vaguely traditional/religious values. That's the kinda thing they start enforcing on you. Oh, you're dressed so cute! where are you going? gasp! A bar??? But that's soooo .... risky!! You're young, and, you're just so nice, and... why don't you stay home and play board games with the Morningstars instead?

You're over here, "can I PLEASE smoke some fucking weed" and Lucifer would deadass with his full chest, "no, none of the Devil's lettuce for MY baby! Those other Sinners can run around with their crack and their whippets and their absinthe but MY CHILD is better than that"

-- platonic yandere Charlie and Lucifer passing the single brain cell they share back and forth, "Dad, they bought some new clothes and I thought it was gonna be for that outing we're taking later this week but they put it on and left the Hotel and went somewhere else!! Who else would they dress up for? Do you think they have a secret second family and they actually hate us? 🥺" "Charlie, do you have any idea how... totally possible that is, oh golly, we've gotta follow them and make amends so they come home!!" and you're just like.... having coffee with a new friend

You're at a cafe looking cute and Lucifer and Charlie are having a stakeout in the fucking bushes nearby or some shit, Lucifer grinding his teeth trying to guess who this piece of shit trying to take his baby away is, growling how hes gonna rip them apart, like who the actual fuck does this person think they are, and Charlie is like, trying to be a little more level headed "haha cmon Dad they would never replace us :)" but then the second she looks over and sees this other person is exchanging too many meaningful glances at you and making you laugh, her switch flips. "Actually yeah Dad you know what you were totally right, they're obviously a creep trying to hurt Readsr and we should kill this guy :)"

--Charlie has no problem with you hanging out with Alastor but I like the idea that she can suddenly see right through him when it's YOU he's doing stuff to. He can be on his whole "oh just call me dad" shit to her and it'd give her the warm fuzzies, but the second she sees Alastor going out of his way to come up and interact with you in front of her father, she knows he's trying to rile her dad up and may even tell him he needs to wait his turn and interact with you later. Lucifer meanwhile all but wants to bite the cannibal like a rabid dog for coming near you and treats him like Al's the evil villain trying to take away his little royal heir. He has no idea what that yellow toothed black gum cretin wants to do to his baby!

-- I can just see arguing with Lucifer, "why can't I date? Charlie gets to date!!" and Lucifer's just like trying to bullshit an excuse for why he just doesn't want you dating because, you're his widdle baby and he isn't ready to see you act adult yet :( the only man you should be kissing is your short father on the cheek! Lucifer is VERY MUCH "I am the only supportive guardian figure you need in your life" kinda yandere dad, if you go to anyone else for help before him he's taking it as a personal slight against him and vows to show up that other person so you never "choose them over him" ever again

-- obviously I'm so fucking biased but. Lucifer with Daughter Reader is obviously just him being your tiny guard dog all the time like, he is so soft, he is such a girl dad. No men talking to either of his baby girls!! No touching his little princesses!!! You'll be out in fucking public as a grown ass woman and Lucifer would still be like, "oh, there's a lot of people here, here sweetie, hold my hand so you don't get lost", marching around holding your hand as the most powerful Anti Rizz Shield in all of Hell, he has no shame, this man is fucking Mayes Hughes whipping out his wallet, "wanna see photos of my girls?!?!?!? Here's one of them in matching dresses, here's one from the musical we went to last week, and here- gosh arent they just the cutest ☺️❤️"

like if you ever wander into another ring like Gluttony by accident, Bee is buzzing up to you, "oh my gosh, it's Luci's little pup, sweetie you're not supposed to be down here, let me get you back upstairs, your pops is FREAKING!!" and talking to you like she already knows you like a friend because Lucifer is showing your photos to ALL his demon friends at every like, Rulers of Hell meeting. Lucifer is over here beaming with pride as Stolas looks over his special I Love My Daughters Photo Album and nodding his head, "perhaps we can arrange some playtime with your girls and my Via, let them all get to know each other" and it's like Lucifer can you PLEASE stop recruiting other all powerful almighty demons into the Let's All Be Platonic In A Creepy Overprotective Way Club. You just turn around one day and like half the Overlords and a few of the Cardinal Sins are all vying for your attention and you're like a celebrity and it's cause your dumb duck dad is blabbing his mouth showing your picture to anyone with eyes

-- you know how Sinner Demons come in all these different sizes and shapes, with fur and wings and, bugs and dinosaurs, fish and object heads? What if Lucifer has the power to alter your demonic form? One day you turn around and you're no longer whatever multi armed fuzzy creature you once were, but you're now... human again. Or at least, human like. You've got your old face again, your old skin tone, but, you've got horns that look suspiciously like your friend and her father's, a retractable tail with a heart on it like theirs, maybe even those like, kinda weird rosy cheek things. And it's because Lucifer and Charlie have decided, well, they don't care what you look like regardless, but now, don't you actually look like a member of the family? Now everyone can tell when you're together! ^^

Like it's kinda sweet but the adjacent horror of Lucifer "oh yeah I completely changed the shape and appearance of your body to more resemble me and my daughter so you look like you're ACTUALLY our family :)" like can you imagine him pulling this kind of shit when you're like not even that kind of close yet. Basically kidnapping you into the Morningstar family tree and actually making you look like them to the point other people can spot you and instantly know to steer clear. Maybe you even get a little special outfit of your own,your own little suit and bow tie with an apple or snake on it somewhere

-- you know how sometimes you just want to be alone? You just like space? You just like not knowing you're being watched or having to share your space with anyone else, you can just breathe? It's not about hating someone else or other people, it's just like... wanting to be the master of your own space for a while?

Foreign fucking concept to these two. Your activities become THEIR activities. Oh cool you're 6 episodes deep into an anime? Here's Charlie and Lucifer, "oooo what are we watching?" "Oh she's really pretty, what's her name, is she the main character?" "That lady sure isn't wearing a lot of clothes, I don't know if this is appropriate for you to watch" "oooo oooo pause it, I'll go make popcorn, dont start it again without me!"

Don't get me wrong I can see this being adorable, you're just like adhd autism infodumping and catching them all upon who everyone is and all the stuff that's happened and "I can restart it from the beginning and we can watch it together?" And they're eagerly hanging off of your every word based on how interested and excited you are about the subject, for whatever hobby or show you're indulging in

BUT I can see this turning into them intruding on everything you do and when you finally do try and say "hey I'd like a little space" that turns into a DISCUSSION. wait why don't you want to spend time with them? Are you sad? Did they do something wrong? Tell them exactly what you're thinking, OBVIOUSLY the correct action ISNT to just give you the space, CLEARLY this is an emergency needing investigation!! Like God forbid you tell them a lie to sneak off and hang out with someone else because THEN it's "who is this clearly abusive evil person telling our precious Reader to lie to us? The altar calls for their blood"

--SINGING!!! These two sing all the time (Charlie sings the most as the Not Depressed Morningstar) and they teach you too! They'll encourage you to join into song, and even just do those little songs you and I do when we're doing small tasks. You'll catch them in the kitchen, "washing the dishes, washing the plates, put them away and have a wonderful day ^^" and they'll try and rope you into singing until eventually you're expected to belt out musical numbers with them like anyone else in this show (bonus points for your first musical song being some sort of rebellious rock ballad about wanting to run away from them because they make you feel controlled or something)

-- mandatory family trips to Lu Lu World! You are NOT going home until you play all sorts of games and eat all sorts of carnival food and are struggling to walk home carrying your giant stuffed duck. God, really missing my childhood going to Six Flags before capitalism ruined amusement parks...

-- "cringe" does not exist in this family and they wont make you feel bad for liking something unless it's like ACTUALLY HARMFUL (like getting drunk and high). You cannot tell me these two do not already have fursonas and they'll geek out on the couch watching cartoons and playing video games with you. You're eating candy watching Naruto and playing LEGO Batman and playing dice games and they're loving every second (Reader why did you have to hit that Nat 20 roll on the "Getting Adopted By The Morningstars" quest, now they're never leaving you alone bro, bro i think youre gonna have to murderhobo your way outta this bro--)

-- I feeeeeeeeeel like. Lucifer if he concentrates really really hard would be able to tell where you are at all times because, Hell is HIS house. He um. He literally has pocket dimension "make shit appear out of nowhere" powers, so like... do you think he can feel all the souls in Hell? Do you think he would be able to concentrate and be like, "oh I can tell Reader is in that direction and is feeling really happy right now"

I just... I picture Reader having a really awful fight where you yell and scream at Lucifer and you can tell you actually really hurt his feelings, maybe even making him tear up, which would then make Charlie really upset with you, and then you're running off because you feel like you can't stay there anymore, and you're wandering the streets, lost, hungry, starting to get cold, wishing you could go back and apologize but feeling like they would never take you back, and, of course, the age old trope, you get cornered by some robbers or some potential attackers and they start beating you around and, all you can think is how ungrateful you were, that you wanted to apologize to Charlie and Lucifer but they probably hated you now, it's too late, it's... it's...

You don't know if it'll work, but you're about to be hurt really badly and you're genuinely scared and missing them and, you just clasp your hands and say a prayer, calling out to Lucifer, but you're like... literally saying it like... you're manically whispering and whimpering not knowing what the fuck you're supposed to say or if something like this would even work, "O Dark Lord Lucifer please hear my plea for your aid and-- no fuck it, come help me DAD I'm really really SCARED DAD THEYRE GONNA HURT ME COME ON DAD PLEASE DAD I'M SORRY, WHAT I SAID WAS WRONG, DAD PLEASE-" and he's there like, before you're even done speaking. You're still covering your head and whimpering and crying and you just hear, "It's OK now" and he's standing over you with bloodied fists and the attackers all crumpled on the ground and he's picking you up like it's nothing to take you back home.

-- lastly, I feel like there's few boundaries on nudity with these two. Like, it's not incestuous or anything, but if Lucifer walks in on you changing and you've got your beav out, he would probably politely put a hand over his eyes and keep talking anyways. Charlie treats it like walking in on her sibling, on someone her age she's known all her life. She'll be walking up, picking lint off your clothes, helping clasp your bra, whichever whatever without any regards for how exposed you might be feeling. Oh you're feeling shy? But she's your sister; you don't have to be shy!!

It's all fun and games until you're completely butt ass naked having Family Bath Time, Charlie scrubbing shampoo through your hair while Lucifer has ungodly amounts of duck themed bath toys floating around and you accidentally catch sight of THE Angel Of The Bottomless Pit's full-on dick and balls that you're realizing, oh, when they said they want to treat you like family, they meant like FAMILY family... oh shit... hope this doesn't turn into a huge "hey also we couldnt bear the thought of losing you so you're kind of immortal now" kind of problem...

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

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silverflqmes · 1 month

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Do you have any hcs for yandere Sephiroth? 👀

໒⦂ ‘𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄’ 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi so uh i don’t do yandere stuff, it’s not a topic i’m super comfortable with writing ( as mentioned in my rules ) but i will provide a more subtle, toned down version if that’s okay instead :’)

genre. angst + suggestive

tw. possessive behavior, implied manipulation, jealousy

disclaimer. there is a visible flip in the headcanons from pre nibleheim sephiroth to post — which takes on a darker approach. if it’s not something you are comfortable with reading, then don’t.

sephiroth x gn!reader.

⌗ as a person who dealt with the loss of those he allowed into his life, having brought his walls down for them.. i do think sephiroth might have developed a bit of overprotective behavior — which honestly, is expected..

⌗ he doesn’t want to lose you or for any harm to come your way. whether losing you refers to death.. or to someone else — he doesn’t want any of that to come to fruition.

⌗ everything in life he cherished has been taken from him and you are not about to be one of them..

⌗ normally he’s as cool as a pickle if you’re talking to someone else, but there’s this aura emitting from him.. one look at sephiroth and the innocent bystander is practically shaking in their boots.

⌗ you of course — would be confused as hell on this.. i mean when sephiroth pulls you closer, you just assume he wants proximity..

⌗ until you go home, that is, and he’s just holding you without any means of letting go.. it’s silly, watching that subtle, yet visible pout of his and the furrow to his brows and all is understood

⌗ piece of you by shawn mendes tbh that is where my brain is rn

⌗ sometimes it’s a little more than an inescapable hug and turns into a storm of kisses — perhaps even a mark or few would be left in his wake.. but nothing that makes you uncomfortable cuz he doesn’t want to hurt or force you into anything. consent!!

⌗ while he has selfish desires and would prefer to have you all to himself, he values boundaries and freedom — it’s something he wasn’t given and he isn’t about to take that away from you, too.

⌗ but if you were trying to get a reaction out of him by PURPOSELY trying to make him jealous.. good LUCK walking in the morning are the only words i have for you LMAO

⌗ there is after care tho trust and it’s all part of the plan because he gets to have you stay over and spend time with him<3 which — despite your grumbles — you are more than happy to do<3

⌗ now uh, post nibelheim sephiroth.. he is a different case cuz he’s under the influence of jenova cells — which are obviously making him do some wild stuff..

⌗ following the concept that you would have said cells opens up the opportunity to mess with you a bit, as a means of getting you to execute his whims. kinda like he does with cloud..

⌗ he’s aware you’re trying to take him back and save him from what he’s become, and uses that to his advantage. you would do anything for him, wouldn’t you?

⌗ slowly, he would isolate you from your companions — they want him gone, anyway, but you don’t. you couldn’t sit with the idea of your lover being gone, even in spite of all he had done.

⌗ you told yourself it wasn’t him, and it was true, it wasn’t. for that.. you wished to continue your attempts at saving him, even if it was a descent into madness..

⌗ gradually, you are succumbing to his words, allowing them to reshape the view you had made for yourself.

⌗ he was right, anyway. the humans who blindly believed in shinra- were the ones that gave the company the power and means of further destroying the planet for their glory. sephiroth was right in almost every way to execute the goals he made for himself.

⌗ he only ever appeared briefly to you, his caresses leaving enough of a linger to leave you touch starved — yearning for contact.

⌗ the one winged angel only whispered soon in that velvety tone of his, a reassurance of the reunion that would be upon you both in time.

⌗ but at times, you pressed, pleading for just another second — minute or few of his time.. and with that desperation in your voice, the expression that crosses your features, how could he refuse you?

⌗ he would spare his precious time and entertain you a moment longer, indulging just a bit in you, and himself, of course. but once more leaving you lingering, longing for more.

notes. not one for writing yandere oriented content, so i hope this was okay and fulfilling enough since i watered it down quite a bit :’) just not super comfy associating him with the qualities of a yandere..

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

#— ; 🏹 ) final fantasy vii fics.#sephiroth x y/n #sephiroth x you #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth #sephiroth ff7 #sephiroth ffvii #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth headcanons #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy sephiroth

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genericpuff · 23 days

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So, I want to confess something. I believe I speak for everyone when I say that the SA in LO is not only poorly written but very mishandled and was unnecessary. I want to point out I am not a SA victim, so I can not say with experience how well the deception was. Though I do know people in real life that were victims, I also don’t want to disclose their stories either. But, here’s the thing. I personally don’t mind SA in the media, if it is handled with care and they portray it as a serious issue!

The problem I have with most media is that shows and stories will either use SA as A. A plot device for romance development. B. Shock value or C. A joke. So many media I’ve watched use SA as any of the three categories (13 Reasons Why and content from Vivziepop being a few that I can think of off the top of my head). The only show I can think of that actually portrays SA seriously and shows real life impact is Tuca and Bride. I also think it’s pretty hypocritical that the media will use SA as long as they fall into any of the three categories, but when you want to show the negative effects of it like in Moral Orel, suddenly you get canceled! Again, Hypocrites! I also don’t think first time writers should write this kind of stuff, and Rachel is no exception. You can tell she didn’t know what she was doing, based on how little importance the SA has on the plot or how it falls into said categories as well. (and the rumors that she didn’t even know it was SA doesn’t help).

Now, that being said I don’t think a SA plot line was a bad idea for this kind of story. Again, the original myth was “The abduction of Persephone” and in some versions, Hades did force himself onto Persephone. And considering Ancient Greece was rife with many stories of such heavy topics, I can see why they would include that. My personal issue with LO’s SA plotline… is Apollo! First of all, while Apollo may have had some questionable relationships in his myths, he never really forced himself on anyone. In fact, the most famous story of him chasing Daphne was only because he was under the influence of Eros, meaning Apollo had no agency in loving Daphne. Second, Apollo had nothing to do with Persephone. They never interacted in any myths. Sure, there was one myth where Apollo asked Demeter for her daughter’s hand and Demeter rejected, but that’s it. The two never had any relationship. So it makes the plot line even more convoluted because of their lack of historical and mythical connection. Though, I do admit I kind of like Apollo and Persephone as a couple (In Rekindled not Lore Olympus), but I know they don’t get together.

Honestly, if Rachel really wanted to do a SA story that would prop up Hades without demonizing anyone, she could have done that! By making Persephone’s assaulter be Zeus instead of Apollo! Hear me out, in some stories, Zeus actually disguised himself as Hades and slept with Persephone, thus it resulted in Zagerus. So, it is canon in a sense that Zeus did SA Persephone. Not only that, but given he had a role to play in the “Abduction of Persephone” where he sold his daughter off to Hades, this makes him even more impactful to the story. He could be the villain instead of Demeter, who wants to use Persephone. And considering Zeus’s love affairs and his god complex (no pun intended) he would believe he was entitled to Persephone and would want to have her as a secret concubine.

Maybe Zeus would be able to learn more about Persephone through Hera and he would decide to set his sights on her. He could try and get closer to her as she is naive and never met the King of Gods, and would use her trust to pounce on her (Because in SA cases, your attacker is more likely to be someone close to you rather than a stranger.) And maybe Zeus would blackmail Persephone so she would have to keep seeing him or else get kicked out of school and be a disgrace to her mother. Then, you could have Hades find out and he would rage against Zeus. Maybe Hades would get Demeter involved and they would team up to punish the King all for the sake of protecting Persephone. Hades would suggest making Persephone his queen for protection, and Demeter would make the world grow cold unless Zeus complies, thus explaining Winter. Zeus would agree to give Persephone to Hades, and she will be under Hades’s protection. But Persephone would still want to be with her mother, so Demeter and Hades make custody arrangements.

Bam! A SA plot line that A. Actually adds to the story and raises stakes. B. Makes a terrifying but complex villain for the story that we all can hate without assassinating his character. C. Have Hades and Demeter come out on top. D. Be historical and mythologically accurate. (I’m also not saying that I wanted SA in LO or LR, nor do I think this version would have made it better, but I personally believe this plot line makes way more sense than: Apollo meeting Persephone in one day and SA her in her sleep.)

I agree with a lot of this, thank you for sharing!! (sorry this is a late response, I didn't want this big analysis to go to waste fdjasklfdsajlk)

But yeah, in essence / on paper the SA plotline in LO would have been fine, especially considering SA is present in just about every Greek myth story, but I don't think Rachel was really cut out to tackle that subject yet, mostly as a writer as all of her writing is very baseless and doesn't have the necessary planning, research, and direction required to depict a subject like that. It takes a lot of sensitivity, self-awareness, and self control, none of which LO has as a narrative or Rachel as a writer.

IMO Apollo being the god of the sun made for a great springboard for him to be like, this self-centered god who was so delusional in his own ego that he couldn't believe Persephone wouldn't want him, that alone was enough to make him out to be a great villain - even with the use of SA, where he couldn't take no for an answer - but then we had to get into the whole "Apollo is gonna use Persephone to overthrow Zeus" crap and it all fell apart from there. Not to mention the story could never decide if Apollo was some nefarious puppet master or just a delusional dumbass, so all the flip-flopping on his motivations led to him becoming a very weak villain.

That said, I will cut her some slack for not having Zeus assault her. Because while it's more accurate to the myths (and character accurate) the story could barely handle Apollo and he's the canon Good Boytm in the myths, imagine it trying to handle an actual serial assaulter?

But that's not me saying it's necessarily a bad idea. I just don't think LO would be able to handle it with Rachel at the helm lol

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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destructionray · 11 months

Text

Hobie Brown/Spiderpunk Relationship HC's

spider-punk relationship hc's?? This is the first time I've shared my work so sorry if it's bad i genuinely don't know how to write stuff </3 also i tried to keep the reader gender-neutral but i might be a little biased because im transmasc (fuck fem!readers i actually hate yall/j) i also tried to keep it spoiler-free

1.3k words

warnings: none (okay maybe a tiny bit of curse words)

ALWAYS sharing earbuds. there's not a single time this man will let you sit next to him without listening to some of his jams

I KNOW THIS MAN GIVES A GOOD CUDDLE!!

hes usually the type to only give half-hugs, having just an arm around your shoulder or waist when you're just chilling

but when you ask for a real hug?? It'll literally be the most comforting thing.

pulling you in to his chest and wrapping his arms around you tightly, one hand around your shoulder and the other on your back, pressing his body up against yours tightly

and he kisses the top of ur head!!

BUT hes a little pissed that he has to take off his jacket every time because of how spiky it is

he can't count the amount of times you've tried to rest your head on his shoulder but ended up getting poked by the spikes on his jacket.

he LOVES hugging you from behind

he's not super touchy, but when he's around a lot of people he'll always be touching you in some way.

having his hand in your back pocket, having a hand on your hip, holding eachothers pinkies

i swear he has a a thing for hips or waists/j

ESPECIALLY touchy in front of authorities, he'll make out with you in front of them just to piss them off.

the hand placement when he kisses yoy oh my godddd

either a hand on your cheek and/or around your waist, or when you're making out he has his hand on the back of your head, pushing you closer to him

neck kisses <3333

there's almost no way you could be taller than him, my guy is 6'3 AND wears platforms.

prepare to be used as an armrest for him.

you like his piercings? He'll do one for you.

that man has never paid for a single piercing in his LIFE.

insisted on doing piercings for you, especially if you had never had any done before.

he'll do stick n pokes for you aswell if you're interested in getting a tattoo.

if you're an artist, he'll let you do some on him aswell.

BEGGED you to get matching tattoos and/or piercings

he's so cute, how could you say no?

calls you "love" ALL THE TIME. You're not entirely sure if it's because he loves you or if it's just a weird thing brits do

your dates are mostly going to strange or abandoned places and hanging/having a picnic/listening to music/mildly illegal stuff, or sneaking into a movie theater to watch stuff without paying.

if you're a Spider-person too, you guys definetily have had a romantic moment on top of skyscraper before.

if you're afraid of heights, he'll hold you in his arms the entire time he takes you to a place high up. he'll never let you go

he noticed that you miss him a lot, so made you your own watch to travel to his dimension or the Spider-society at any time

he totally has a ton of pictures with you in his room, printed by some cheap shitty polariod camera

When he gets injured, he immideately resorts to you instead of going to a hospital or proper medic

He doesn't like seeing you get worried about him, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love the extra attention and care you gave him, and the time you spend together patching him up.

Shows his love instead of telling you

Only says "i love you" in special moments (which sometimes could just be spending time cuddling & relaxing together after a bad day)

Literally all over you when he's tired or after a day of being Spider-Punk

Has 100% yelled at or completely ignored Miguel for calling him on a mission while he's with you.

You play an instrument? He'll practice with you every single day.

If you don't have any motivation to, he'll be your motivation. He loves hearing you play.

If you were interested in playing guitar, he totally sat for hours and teached you chords.

Holding your hand to make it press down on the strings, and saying "good job" or other little praises whenever you got it right.

You're interested in playing drums? He asked Gwen to come over and practice with you, and he was you two's hypeman.

He loves seeing you get along well with his best friends.

If you tell him your favorite song(s), he secretly learns it on his guitar until he's perfected it and then plays it for you.

Your reactions are always so amusing to him, and he loves it.

Makes you playlists with both his and your favorite songs so you can listen to them together

Spotify playlists? Nope, he dowloaded all the music (probably illegally) and burned them on CD's.

He gave you a portable CD player so you could listen to his playlists at any time.

At his gigs, he always makes sure you're as close to the stage as possible so he can keep an eye on you

You're always invited to his shows, no matter what, and he'll always play better and show off more when he sees you in the crowd

Brings you backstage just to give you a kiss between songs

most likely wrote you a few songs (or more cough cough)

Gave you one of his studded bracelets and said it looks good on you, even if it totally clashes with your style.

He loves seeing you wear it, and it's like you're being constantly reminded of him whenever you wear it.

Ever try his stuff on? It's yours now.

Clothes? no doubt. Jewlery? Yours. Literally anything else? You can have it.

He even gives you guitar picks from his shows, even if you have no use for them

He'll totally nick some of your sweaters or accessories once in a while though.

On the topic of gifts, he always steals small things he sees you looking at for a suspiciously long time in store

He's like a crow, always stealing shiny things (jewlery)

Yeah, he's definetily a bit of a kleptomaniac.

His criminal record must be insane just bc of his stealing habit

He totally makes you custom pins or patches with your favorite bands logos

Hes a very "DIY" kind of guy

He doesn't wanna spend money on things that are overpriced simply because it's popular, so a lot of the gifts he gives you are handmade

VERY skilled at making things though

That man does EVERYTHING.

Crochet, sewing, knitting, drawing, painting, handicraft, sculpting, you name it.

He's also surprisingly good at cooking/baking. (But sadly he doesn't believe in expiration dates/j)

MATCHING NAILS!!!

he usually colors his nails in with black sharpie, but he'll 100% let you paint his nails with actual nail polish

Pulling up at your place when he's drunk isn't an uncommon occurence.

He's a very affectionate drunk.

Especially if he's tired.

He'll tell you how much he loves you, joke around, and always has at least one arm slung around your shoulder

Never uses the front door to your house/apartment.

Always climbing through your windows, because he insists it's easier than knocking on a door.

Plus, if you still live with your parents, it'll make sneaking in at night WAY easier.

He doesn't believe in marriage. Says it's a way for the government to control your relationship and a waste of money

He loves stuff like promise rings though

His accent is so thick, so you're like a translator for him whenever someone doesn't understand him/j

Not related to Hobie, but Pavitr ships you two HARD. He NEVER let you hear the end of it when he first saw you guys kiss.

Pav's always making stupid cute and petty little remarks about your relationship, but he finds you two absolutely adorable.

feel free to give advice or anything in the comments because i genuinely dont know if this is good or nah,,

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phoenixinthefiles · 3 months

Text

Genuine

I apologize it took me almost 2 months to write bcus I hate discussing feelings that much Warnings: v self indulgent like this some self-discovery type stuff

@vhstown (also lmk if you wanna be tagged or something)

Your book slipped from your lap as you laughed and failed to catch your breath.

Hobie, the source of your amusement, started at you stale faced. Unfortunately for him, this only made you laugh harder.

“Wait,” you gasped out, still trying to catch your breath.

He continued to sideye you as he spoke, “Yeah it’s hilarious, nearly drowned in the Thames, but as long as you’re amused.”

You managed to contain your giggles enough to get your breathing under control and you leaned on his shoulder looking up at him with your best innocent look.

“I’m so happy you didn’t die, darling,” you said, trying your best to copy his accent.

He rolled his eyes at your antics but you could see the small smile he was failing to hide.

You grinned mischievously and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Hobie Brown, punk extraordinaire, trips into the River Thames mid performance; sounds like a headline. Oh wait…it is one.”

You cackled at your joke, but stopped when he pushed you and you nearly fell into a candle.

“Hobart Brown! I could’ve burned myself.”

“Thought you would’ve laughed it off since you find near-death experiences amusing.”

You snickered and shook your head, “You are so dramatic.”

“Nah, you’re just heartless.”

“Don’t you know how to swim?” you asked.

He glared at you instead of responding.

You gasped, “you don’t?”

He scoffed, “‘Course I do, but I was fifteen and pissed out my mind.”

“So you flailed around like little girl? sounds like a serious lack of survival instincts to me.”

He lunged for you and you reared back, putting your hands up in surrender.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry I’ll leave you alone.”

He narrowed his eyes at you but he sat back down.

You smirked and muttered, “for now.”

His head jerked back to you and you gave him another innocent look.

He just shook his head at you again.

You watched him for a moment before remembering what you were doing before you nearly laughed yourself to death.

You had rambled to Hobie a week ago about wanting to make a reading nook where you could sit with a blanket and read your favorite books.

After you complained about being bored earlier in the day, he invited you to hang out on his boat and the two of you spent about two hours finding all of his books and making a fort.

It was cramped, and the height of the stacked books made you slightly claustrophobic, but it was still cozy. And it’s not like you hated being close to Hobie.

The candles were his idea, even though you told him it was a fire hazard.

You found your book you dropped, and dusted it off before finding your spot to pick up where you left off.

You found your focus shifting from the book to the conversation you two just had.

Everyone has been embarrassed at least once in their life, It shouldn’t have surprised you like it did.

Hobie was human, humans get embarrassed.

But still…

“Can’t read your mind.”

Hobie’s voice interrupted your thoughts and he turned towards you.

“Hm?” You asked.

“You got a question. Can tell by the way the your looking,” He tilted his head and gave you a lazy smirk. “It’s easier to tell when people with smaller brains are gearing up for a question, their brain can’t really contain it.”

You roll your eyes. You did have a question, but the reason he knew that wasn’t because your brain is small.

Not everyone can be genius.

“Ok. Why are you living in a boat if you had such a mortifying experience with water? I mean personally, I wouldn’t-

You’re cut off by your own laughter as you leap up and dodge him as he lunges for you again.

You’re fast as you dart away, but his legs are longer and he’s much more agile. You almost knocked a candle over trying to get up.

Should’ve ignored his suggestion for those.

He catches up to when you run into the door leading out to deck, bumping your hip harshly into the frame.

He saves you before you can faceplant into the many plants and flowerpots he has cluttering the deck.

You groan as you try to catch your breath, trying in vain to rub out the sting in your hip.

Hobie doesn’t aid in your efforts at all. He digs his long fingers into your ribs as you laughed breathlessly and tried to dodge his fingers.

He doesn’t let up when you trip over your own feet trying to back away from him.

He smoothly slows down your fall, somehow managing to keep a good grip on you even though his fingers are constantly moving and you’re squirming like hell. Stupid guitarist hands.

Speaking of, the rhythm he’s strumming into your ribs is akin to the song he was playing earlier…

“Ok,” you gasp, “I give up I’m sorry!”

He doesn’t let up at all.

“Nahh, it’s a bit late for that, where’s all that energy from before huh?”

“It’s gone” you grit out, still tying, in vain, to squirm away.

“Hobie pleaseee,” you beg. Well it was more of a wheeze.

He continues spidering his fingers up and down your ribcage, pretending to give thought to your plea. “Don’t know if I can do that love, still haven’t heard a good apology.”

You whine and squirm a little more but eventually give in.

“Ok, ok I'll apologize," you gasp out and he leans back, finally.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure the performance was amazing and the dive just amplified it. Y’know the unpredictable nature of punks and that?”

He snorts and stands to his feet, pulling you up to stand in front of him.

“Your apology was still rubbish, but you recovered in the end.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned into his chest, still panting like a dog.

He wraps his arms around you pulling you even closer, softie.

You finally regain control of your lungs and took a deep breath inhaling the scent of leather and scented smoke wafting off of Hobie, you probably smelled the same considering the candles.

He rested his chin on the top of your head and you knew he was probably still waiting on you to ask your question from earlier.

“I was surprised that you got embarrassed.” You muttered out, feeling a bit stupid as you did so.

He pulled back slightly and gave you a confused look. You sighed and pulled back further turning to lean against the very short railing wrapping around the deck. Yet another hazard, if he wasn’t careful he might fall off this boat.

“I know it’s kinda dumb, but I was surprised. I mean embarrassment kinda requires you to care what people think and you being you…” You trailed off.

He nodded and tilted his head back and forth a few times before responding, “I don’t care what they think, but feelings don’t really respond to logic.”

"No they certainly don't," you mumble.

You can't really describe the tightening in your chest and the pressure in your brain, and you don't really want to.

Unfortunately for you...

Hobie knocks his knuckles against your forehead, wordlessly communicating exactly what he emans.

You roll eyes and take another deep breath before you respond.

"You wear everything on your sleeve; everything about you screams-genuine. And sure you've got a lot of other things going on but you don't...hide. I just don't understand it I guess. Not everybody does that and-

"I don't hold a grudge against you for it."

You're not surprised at the interruption, more at the fact that he read you so well.

You grimace and look away to gather yourself before you speak again.

"I-I know that but sometimes I worry."

He hums and pulls your hands into his, fidgeting with the ring he made that rests on your middle finger.

You're grateful for the distraction and direct your eyes down to your connected hands as you continue.

"I don't wanna say the wrong thing, and you not even be able to get what I mean because I can't...show it."

You shrug and let your hands fall out of his, subconsciously closing yourself off while you try to breathe through the straining in your sternum.

He places his hands on your shoulder and gently rubs his hands up and down your arms. It's not that you need to be warmed up, but the action calms you down and breathing becomes much easier.

You look up at him and he gives you that stupid smirk of his.

The one that made you fall in love with him.

"I've known you for a while now doll; you think you're closed off and cold, but you're not. You're a lil' emotionally stunted-"

You roll your eyes, while his twinkle.

"But I don't fault you for it. What's the point in being the same anyway, weren't made for it y'know? You're plenty expressive; I can see it in your eyes, in your body language, in that little lip twist you do when you're trying to be nice."

He brings you closer to him, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other one the railing behind you.

"You've let me in, I'm not going anywhere."

You give him a small smile and he matches it before tilting your chin up and leaning down to give you a kiss.

You return it and your smile widens when you pull away.

It drops in the very next second when you hear thud from inside the boat and the distinct sound of fire scorching paper.

Your eyes widen and you push away from to run back inside.

You bump your hip on the door frame again but you ignore the pain and scramble to put out the fire that's singed your book.

Luckily, you caught it before it could really spread and only the corner of the book is burnt.

Hobie snorts from the doorway and you turn to glare at him.

"Well I've got a idea of what you're feeling now."

You huff and shake your head, " I told you it was a fire hazard."

He shrugs, "It was pretty. 'Sides you've got quick reflexes; you caught it in time."

You smirk and toss the book to the ground, better to not have anything in your hands when you run.

"Yeah I do, they're really quick. I definitely wouldn't have have tripped off a boat and forgot I knew how to swim."

As soon as you finish your sentence you take off, and damn him for being a giant because he's right on your heels.

i did it 😭😭😭✊🏾

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown fic #atsv hobie #spider punk #hobie brown #fromphoetou

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