#i typed ass instead of asks and it made me snort

[thwackk]

(milftigress) so I had a phone interview for this company called wildflower n they sell like super cute phones cases I’ve never purchased but all the girlies where I’m from rave about them so anywho it went well and I have an in person interview Wednesday butttt lowkey horrified that they’ll want me to work everyday but I have another job that’s like full time and my friend who works at wildflower told me that you can make your own schedule but the lady didn’t make it seem like That hence a slight panic now ahdhebxhebdv also I’m very jealous of your batmobile ornament it sounds very cool

GOD THATS SO COOL THO CONGRATS!!! Ur gettin that paycheck gotdamn!! full time job AND side job, that’s awesome!! i hope you get it and i hope that you can make your own schedule, that sounds so stressful. remember to pace yourself and rest consistently dont overwork yourself aaaand good luck!! also i will show u all a picture of the batman ornament when i get home because there’s a tiny little bruce and richard sitting in it that make me laugh :)

#asks #thankyou!! #i typed ass instead of asks and it made me snort #good luck!!!! #i only have one job #at a bowling alley

[fairlyang]

Easy money II 🕷️

asked to do yet another shoot but with a plot twist

w/c: 2.4K

pairing: pornstaroomie!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. teasing, making out, handjob, blowjob

part one — part three

Two weeks had passed and it was almost as if that shoot never happened.

We both went back to normal, only talking when we walked past each other or offered each other dinner.

But besides that it'd be fairly quiet.

Well obviously besides when he'd bring other girls over for more shoots.

Almost every. damn. night.

It drove me insane because I kinda wanted to do another with him but wasn't sure how to ask or offer myself up.

So instead I dealt with the fact that I'd probably not get another chance and just listened to him at work every night with my toys between my legs because I couldn't help myself and I was growing more jealous with every new girl he'd bring in.

I just wanted him to fuck me like he'd fuck them-

Or even suck him off.

But alas it looked like that wasn't gonna happen so I lost all hope until I got a notification from my bank that left me thinking I was dreaming. Or dead.

"MIGUEL O'HARA sent you $5,000"

What. The. Fuck.

I open up my bank app and sure enough I now have $8K. My eyes almost bulged out of my eyes and I cover my mouth, utterly shocked.

I immediately get up from my bed and practically sprinted to his room banging on his door like a psychopath.

"COME IN!" He yelled and I burst through the door, holding out my phone.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!?!!?" I yell, doing extra theatrics with my hands to accentuate my confusion.

"It's your half of the video." He says matter of factly making me gasp.

"That video made $10,000?!?" I exclaim and a smirk tugs on his lips.

"What can I say the people liked it." He says and sits up from his bed.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that, I was thinking we should do another...." He continues then mumbles the last part but I heard him clearly.

I kept my excitement hidden but inside I felt giddy and wanted to jump up and down. But maybe then he'd change his mind so staying calm it is.

"Oh yeah?" I ask and he shrugs, trying to act casual as if it hasn't been on his mind since he noticed the success and that he's been wanting to have you in his videos before you filled in.

"If you'd want to that is." He says and you shrug.

My heart was racing, palms sweaty, it was getting much harder to act cool now that he was awaiting my response. I clear my throat and nod, "I'm down."

Miguel nodded and stood up, "are you busy tonight?"

I laugh, shaking my head not too surprised he wanted to film already. "Let's do it."

He grins and gets up from his bed, walking over to his chest in front of his bed and grabs his tripods. He then grabs the masks we used last time, throwing the pink one at me which I made sure to quickly catch. "So what do you have in mind?" I ask and play with the mask between my fingers.

"Well the people," he starts walking over to the couch he had by his window, "really wanted to see you in action."

"Me?" I ask and raise an eyebrow, could I be so lucky...

He nods and places the tripod in front of couch, positioning it correctly before taking out his phone out of his pocket. "We could do a handjob if you'd like." He says looking down at his phone and typing.

"Or if you want more money..." he coos making me chuckle.

Only for the money....

Of course...

"Should I change?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"Well actually just take off those horrendous pj pants." He teases making me snort.

"You're wearing batman pants-"

"Batman is cool-"

"At your grown ass age-"

"Better than dinosaurs." He snorts and I gasp.

"Take that back! We literally watched Jurassic Park after the first shoot..." I say and playfully glare at him as he finally looks up at me.

Only he could rock those ugly pants.

Only you could rock dino pjs, he thought to himself before shaking his head. Focus.

"So oral hm?" I mumble and walk over to him as he places his phone on the tripod.

"Mhm if you want." He responds making me chuckle.

I move my hair back and slip the mask over my head then fixing it so I could see right and my mouth was out. Then I groan and shake my head, "this thing is gonna be a fucking mess by the end of this."

"It'll be worth it." He says with a smirk sending a shiver down my spine.

Finally.

"And I'm honestly thinking no more collabs after this." He mutters making me scoff.

"Yeah right-"

"No seriously." He replies sincerely and shrugs.

"Well maybe besides with you.. it would be easier since you're already here..." he says looking back at his phone, avoiding my gaze.

Huh-

"Plus I know this kind of money could help us both. You work so hard and don't get paid nearly enough for all you do." He says now finally looking up and into my eyes.

I bite my lip and breathe in through my nose then exhale, should I?

It was a much bigger step, technically like being partners in a way. And surely this way he'd fuck me eventually-

"And I mean this sincerely, the 'fans' loved you out of all the girls I've worked with. Said our 'connection was unmatched.'" He says in quotation marks which stung a little, but I ignored it.

He then presses on his phone and walks toward me, "and I think I agree with them." He sighs and I could feel my heart racing.

"Really?" I whisper as he steps in front of me.

He nods and brings his hands up to cup my jaw, "Really." He breathes out and I almost immediately melted into his touch.

He then did the unexpected and made this sweet little moment even sweeter by leaning in and kissing me softly. It was so gentle and it had me questioning if he did this with the other girls. Or to show he really wanted to do this with me and not just this shoot but future ones.

I shook my thoughts away and kissed back, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. He moved us to the right so we'd be on camera then sits us both down on the couch with me on his left. I could feel my heart thumping and it made me so nervous thinking he could feel it too. But he was too focused on this sweet kiss there was no way that'd be something he's paying attention to.

Surely.

Meanwhile in Miguel's head all he could think of was hoping you couldn't tell how overexcited he was. Hell after the first shoot he's just missed your touch, your body, your sounds.

But he didn't want to overstep so he kept his distance and stayed to himself.

Then after every shoot after that one it just didn't feel the same. With you it felt natural, it didn't feel like you were putting on a show but actually caring about your pleasure.

But in todays case, it'd be his pleasure. Which he was so ecstatic about. Every time a girl would be sucking him off he'd just close his eyes and imagine it were you. And now it was finally going to happen and he didn't have to pretend anymore.

Finally.

His hands were tracing my body slowly which made me realize I should be the one doing that. This whole scenario was gonna be about him technically.

I deepen the kiss and move my left hand to his hair, playing around with the curls at the back of his neck. With my right hand I graze against his collarbone softly while I slide my tongue into his mouth.

He moaned into my mouth making me squeeze my thighs together then move my hand, trailing down his body.

I lightly grazed his abs but my hands stayed put on the waistband of his pants. I pull away from the kiss that left us both breathless but then bring my face down to his neck, leaving soft kisses on his warm skin before toying with the waistband.

He bucked his hips up but I just moved my hand away, up to his stomach. I let it sit there while I leave a few marks on his neck, making sure it'd last a handful of days.

I move up a little and nibble on his ear before moving my hand down and on his already hard bulge. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I feel the thickness then take a look down and that was when I noticed he was breathing heavy.

I turned to look at him and his eyes were shut and his lips were shaking. I smile and bring my hand down, palming him over his pants as I watch him let out a small moan.

I was already starting to feel my panties getting soaked which only surprised me that it didn't happen sooner.

I rub the outline of his dick gently, which earns me breathy moans that were music to my ears. His eyes flutter open and he looks at me and was about to say something when i slipped my hand down his pants and stroked him over his boxers.

He moaned again and it only gave me motivation to keep going, to hear those moans that were because of me. Not another girl. But me.

I then couldn't help myself nor how quickly I took the pj pants off him but he didn't seem to mind. I then grabbed his dick and slipped it out of the hole of his boxers. I look down at it on my hands and gulp, he was so thick and leaking so much precum.

I open my mouth and spit on his angry tip, watching as it dribbles down then start stroking it with my right hand before it could go all the way down. He lets out a loud moan and bucks his hips up, thrusting himself into my hand which only made more wet because he looks so good.

I stroke him faster and continue watching his face, his cheeks were rosy and there were beads of sweat along his forehead and he laid his head back against the couch. "Feel good Mig?" I murmur and he brings his head up nodding.

He then looks down at my hand and groans, "so fucking good baby."

I hum and continue my pace, then moving my face closer to his and leave a kiss on his cheek before kissing along his jaw. "Oh fuck baby-“

I then pull away and drop to my knees in front of him. I continue stroking him, staring up at him with big doe eyes before moving closer and leaving a little kiss on his tip making him groan.

I squeezed my thighs together and smiled up at him before leaving kitten licks on his tip and lightly circle around it earning myself a deep moan. "Just like that pretty girl-"

"Oh shit!" He moans as I slip him inside my mouth, bringing my head down as he tilts his head back.

I move my head down as much as I could, barely able to take half before pulling back and letting the drool drip out of my mouth and back onto his tip. I slip him back in my mouth and try to take more than the first time, already gagging on it but I wanted to take it all.

I pull back with no luck then try once more, taking him in my mouth and then go down as far as possible until I'm gagging on him and then going down further, finally able to take all of him down my throat.

"Fuck! God baby you're taking it s-so fucking good." Miguel moans and I feel myself clench around nothing.

I pull out then immediately go back down again, having him hit my throat some more. I then feel his hands hold onto my head so I freely let him guide me.

With teary eyes I look up at him and moaning at the sight of him rolls his eyes back, moaning louder and louder the more I take him. "So fucking good to me-" he moans and forces me to move my head harder.

"Take that fucking dick pretty girl- fuck- I know you can take it." He groans and slowly starts thrusting up into me.

I close my eyes and let him take full control which he was clearly, very appreciative of. He began thrusting his hips up then shoved my head down as deep as it could go then thrust down.

"Such a dirty fucking girl for me- taking all that cock-" he breathes out and starts thrusting his hips up faster but his grip on my head loosened.

"Oh baby- you have no idea how long I've needed that pretty mouth of yours. Too fucking long-" he moans making me whimper against him and I feel his cock begin to twitch in my mouth.

"Mmm gonna give you a load you deserve-" he murmurs and I squeeze my thighs feeling my arousal dripping to my inner thighs.

"All this cum just for you baby. Fuck!" And with one final deep thrust he came down my throat, I quickly swallowed and then pulled away, taking a deep breath before trying to control my breathing.

He then reaches down and grabs me, pulling me up and smashing our lips together. He places me on his lap as I kiss back and let him taste himself in my mouth. He then pulls away and gives me a small smile which I returned with pleasure.

But he then gave me a goofy grin which only made me laugh and playfully slap his shoulder. He rolls his eyes then pecks my lips softly before placing my head on his chest.

His heart was thumping clear as day.

"Only you cause this, with or without a shoot." He admits quietly and I quickly look up at him with wide eyes.

"I really would love to make content with just you." He says then quickly adds, "not just out of convenience."

I smile and feel my whole body grow warm, "so when's a good time to have the 'what are we' chat?" I joke and he bursts out laughing.

"We can be whatever you want us to be." He says and brings a hand to my cheek, lightly stroking it making me melt into his touch.

#Miguel O’Hara #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o #hara smut #across the spiderverse #easy money

[miscfandomgifimagines]

Lyle being your flirty gym buddy headcanons

inspired by @xandy-toady17 and their HC on Lyle being the type to flex his muscles during sex 🫣

* Lyle is a total gym rat, the man loves his muscles and he knows the ladies do too

* Definitely one to focus on muscle building and cardio to feel the burn, no pain no gains and all that

* 100% drinks protein shakes every day, which is what he has instead of coffee in the morning

* Lyle probably got fit before he got into the marines so when he joined he was already a pretty stacked guy and it made him feel above the other newbies

* Loves his gym buddies and pushes them toward their goals via encouragement and tough love

* Will swap someone’s weights out without them knowing so they finally get to that next step in their workout plan

* This man’s mental health is influenced by how much he works out so he’s pretty adamant about working out as much as possible (without over doing it) because when he doesn’t work out he feels weird

* After getting his first time card punched and being reloaded into a new, bigger, stronger body he’s even more determined to work out

* You catch him shirtless and flexing quite often and whenever you see him looking so seriously at himself in the mirror you can’t help but snort

* “Falling in love with ourselves in the mirror are we big guy?” You call out as he turns around and flashes a toothy grin

* “Well Short Stack, I’m on the menu if you’d like a taste for yourself.” He smiles suggestively and follows with a “You know my mama told me not to cross anything off until I’ve tried it. Just so happens I have a free evening tonight.”

* You pause for a minute and bring your hand up to your mouth while making a point to check him out. You catch a glimpse of his tail swaying from side to side (which is what he does subconsciously when he’s anticipating something)

* You let a small flirty smile dance on your lips and you lower your voice to sound sexier and his tail picks up it’s pace. “I’m gonna have to pass on that one Champ, as tempting as those biceps are”

* His lips form a quick frown but he plays it off “Whatever, you’re missing out!” You let out a laugh and walk around him, tugging his tail as you step away. “Missing out on what? Protein powder?” You give a sharp pull on his tail before dropping it and walking away. He lets out a deep groan and tsks to your back.

* Calls after you smugly “Hate to see you leave but damn do I love to watch you go.” Which causes you to let out another laugh.

* Lyle is pretty adventurous when it comes to fitness so when he catches you doing some yoga poses after sitting at your desk for a few hours he asks if he can join you. You stop in the middle of a stretch and look at him confused. “Yeah I guess if you want to?”

* Lyle takes it surprisingly serious and follows your movements exactly. Lyle joining you for yoga/ stretching becomes a common occurrence during your day to day operations in the shack.

* This ends up turning into a way for the both of you to bond and he always comes back each morning with new poses he found from old databases. You always expect him to say “Syke! Can’t believe you thought I’d do pussy shit like yoga” but he never does. Instead he looks forward to it, and not just because your ass looks amazing in your poses.

* Eventually he gets you involved in more physical activities like cardio and some light weightlifting, which you didn’t have much experience with.

* He was an awesome teacher though, patient and always reassuring you that you didn’t have to push through the discomfort if it got to be too much. He made sure you always did your stretches and even snuck away a foam roller from the gym for you to keep at the shack.

* The moment that his attractiveness hit you the most was when you were on the foam roller rolling it down your upper back when he put his hands on your waist and guided you back up as you almost slipped off. His hands were huge compared to the size of your body and you did your best to hide your flustered expression

* If he could smell your arousal he certainly didn’t show it and you were thankful not to have any smart ass comments about how sexy he was. In fact he helped you up and said “You did a really good job today, I’m really impressed with how much progress you’ve made!”

* Of course your muscles would ache after each session and you’d be a little shaky in the legs but Lyle was always there to support you (literally). He make sure you’d stay hydrated, give you massages to the most painful muscles, and always encourage you to take it slow and cool down after each workout.

* After one particularly hard workout with you lifting a new record for yourself he starts hyping you up. “Hell yeah Short Stack! Show them how it’s done! One more, you can do it! Oorah!” You let the weights fall to the floor and give him a big smile, proud of yourself for accomplishing your latest goal.

* “You did awesome, pretty soon you’ll be able to kick my ass if I’m not careful.” He starts picking up the equipment and putting it back into it’s temporary home. “Why don’t you hit the shower, a hot soak will probably make you feel pretty good. I’ll make us up some grub”

* You bit your lip and stare at his muscles back. Damn he really was handsome and that avatar body was doing him all the favors. You had grown so close and you’ve seen a completely different side to him over the past few months that you finally give in.

* “Why don’t you come join me instead?” You see him pause and his ears twitch a bit at the tips. He stands up and turns toward you. “Uhh you wanna pass that by me again?” Now is your moment to either put up or shut up and you make the leap.

* “I said, why don’t you” you point at him, “come take a shower with me” you move your finger so you’re pointing at yourself. He seems unnaturally stoic for a minute but then he bring a hand up to his face and laughs as he drags his palm across his cheek. “If I would have known that getting you to work out with me was all it took to see you naked I would have done that from the start!”

* He strides over and picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, his huge hand resting on your ass. Your face was flushed not only from the work out but the sudden proximity you found yourself in. What did I get myself into you think as Lyle opens the bathroom door.

#avatar imagines #avatar wow #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar recom wainfleet #avatar way of water #avatar recom #avatar recom headcanons #avatar headcanons #lyle wainfleet #recom x reader #recom x human #recom lyle wainfleet #avatar recoms #lyle x reader #lyle wainfleet x reader

[mmmichyyy]

62+27🙌🏾

#27: "no. regrets." & #62: "if you can't sleep... we could have sex?"

"you're up late."

"jesus," mickey jumps, nearly falling out of his seat. "you scared the shit out of me."

"sorry." ian plops onto the couch, and mickey tries not to think too much about how close his roommate is sitting next to him. "couldn't sleep, and i saw the light on in the living room. what're you watching?"

mickey turns towards the tv and shrugs. "just criminal minds."

"what an uplifting show to watch at one in the morning."

"it usually puts me to sleep, actually."

"hm." ian raises his brows. "are you sure you're not watching it for a certain someone?"

"i regret telling you that," mickey groans. "i just like reid's character, okay? plus, he's not even my type."

ian looks at him with curious eyes. "what's your type, then?"

hot redheaded alien-looking dorks, mickey wants to say. instead, he throws a pillow at ian's face, to which ian catches and tosses back at him. "don't have one, really. i'm fine with any dick up my ass."

"hm. not every dick," ian mumbles.

mickey's eyes widen. "what?"

"just saying," ian shrugs. "you've never made a move on me, and i have a dick. an above average one, actually, if i'm being honest."

"wh–where is this coming from?" mickey sputters. "you're saying you want us to fuck?"

"what i'm saying is," ian leans in close, warm breath caressing mickey's skin, "if you can't sleep, and i can't sleep, then we could do something together to occupy our time–"

before ian can finish his sentence, mickey catches him by surprise with a soft kiss, their lips slotting against each other hesitantly at first, then quickly deepening and insistent as their tongues intertwine in a fighting frenzy, heated and molten.

"show me this above average dick of yours, then," mickey breathes into ian's ear, and ian responds enthusiastically by dragging mickey to his room and slamming the door shut.

-

afterwards, as they lie in bed together basking in the afterglow, sweaty and thoroughly spent, ian turns to face mickey and ghosts his fingers along mickey's arm.

"was... that okay?" he asks, quiet, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

"gallagher," mickey brushes ian's hair back and smiles when he sees ian melting into his touch, "i've been wanting to do that since you moved in."

"okay, good," ian says, relieved. "i was scared you'd regret sleeping with me and kick me out of the apartment."

mickey snorts. "my only regret is not jumping your bones earlier."

"well," ian rolls over and straddles mickey, bracketing his thighs around mickey's hips, "we have a lot of time to make up for, then."

#thanks for the prompts anon! #gallavich ficlet #gallavich fic #ian x mickey #my words #michy ficlet #gallavich

[wallflowerwritesstuff]

Snap necks (and snap back)

Simon hated the idea of you, a newbie, at first.

Now, he's focused on making sure you don't run yourself into the ground despite your obvious distrust in him and the others.

TW: Minor Implications of PTSD, Slight Hurt/Comfort (In a Simon way), One shot (for now?), Minor Injury mention

****

Simon loved when you kept eye contact. 

“Don’t test me today, Riley.”

It was a sign. 

A sign of what, he wasn’t sure just yet, never having been the type to care if people saw him or saw what had been molded by years of life attempting to drag him down both physically and mentally. 

Not many could handle it—avoiding his eyes entirely or folding in order to show they were the farthest thing from a threat. 

You, however, were not intimidated by his size or the sound of his voice. You never bothered to pry into why he always wore a mask, taking Johnny’s explanation for face value and moving on swiftly from the conversation. Even after hearing about what he looked like through the grapevine, you hadn’t attempted to sneak a peek just to say you’d gotten one over on him. 

In fact, you might have done your best to avoid it—and him—entirely. 

Which made the situation at hand all the more tense: a storm in the making. 

“Ain’t a teacher to be givin’ exams, Spitfire.”

Your jaw rolled as you debated addressing the smart ass comment vs. the unwelcome nickname. 

While everyone had taken to trying out new names every so often without much response, he’d been dead set on what he’d wanted to call you from the get go. Perhaps it would have landed better if not for the fact you and him had never once seen eye to eye on anything, even the smaller things such as what to eat or drink. 

Neither of you had started off on the best footing, if on any at all. 

The idea of a newbie on an already solid team had come as a surprise to them all, for Simon more irritating than helpful. He’d expected a person full of nerves: pure deadweight that wouldn’t last longer than a week, if even. And if he were being honest, seeing you for the first time had barely changed his opinion despite the cold demeanor you’d had.

You didn’t look like much of a soldier even under all the gear: if anything, appearing better suited for a desk or office rather than a borderline field servant like the rest of them. 

“Name?” Price had asked, more for the others to know than himself. He’d no doubt already gotten your file prior to your addition. He wouldn’t have accepted you so graciously if not for that insight.  

“Hitman,” You’d answered, earning a snort from Johnny which he choked down after a scathing look from Price. He had tried his best to pass it off as a cough, Gaz shoving him with an elbow before smiling and taking over to avoid the other from shoving his foot in his mouth any further. 

“Hitman, huh? You must be pretty skilled to have a name like that.” 

You hadn’t reacted to either comment made, staring directly at him with an almost eerie calm that had the room’s light atmosphere faltering. 

“Dunno,” you’d said dryly, scanning the area before doubling back to scan each of them, “Not like I picked it.” 

While half true, Simon had learned through Johnny, with his shit-eating grin and all, that you most likely knew very well why you’d gotten that name pinned onto you. 

“Pure dead brilliant, ‘at one,” he’d said while cackling to himself, not even attempting to hide how pleased he felt at the information. “Bet th’bastard deserved it an’ mair. Shuid o’ called ‘em Hook or Boxer instead!”

That knowledge, along with how well the first mission had gone despite all the unexpected issues which had nearly ended the task force altogether, was the beginning of a partial shift in his perception of you. 

You’d gone from possible deadweight to a person of interest after hauling ass with Johnny back to safety, Gaz hanging off the two of you with a broken leg and a hell of concussion. He had still managed to cover you as you ran, later admitting he had just shot and hoped for the best with his slowly darkening vision.

You had proven dependable both alone and while working with the others despite being a practical stranger to them all. That was more than he could say for most people. 

The confusion on your face afterward when Price and Johnny had offered their praise had been comical, held down only by the fact that the medic had kept you longer than intended. Simon had expected you to accept the praise and finally smile for once, but instead you seemed almost angry as your ankle was being flexed back and forth. 

The fuck are you all on about? Give me some fucking quiet and go check on Gaz if you want to hover someone. He’s worse off.

The response had only earned a slap on the back from Johnny, a slew of curses leaving his lips when you nearly buckled where you sat from the action. Your expression had shifted as you nearly let out a gasp, only to swallow it down and force that same cold expression back onto your face. Price had dragged him away and wished you a speedy recovery, Johnny following but not without a final apology and only earning an icy look in response.

How you’d avoided a scolding into next year for such righteous indignation against your superior was beyond Simon. What should have been a write up instead had earned a smirk and almost proud expression from Price, the reason why only hitting Simon once he’d taken his leave and finally left you alone like you’d seemingly wanted. 

You had been worried. 

For Gaz, specifically, considering you had no reason to mention his state if you truly just wanted to be left alone. 

But you had also been hurt somewhere along the line, embarrassed by it for some reason. Simon had nearly turned back once it had clicked, but he stopped himself before he could. He understood why you’d lied about your status, the memory of you barking out orders for a medic while holding up Gaz as he went in and out of consciousness burned into his thoughts. 

Besides, you hadn’t pried in his personal life, so he wouldn’t in yours, either. 

That didn’t mean he’d forget that you were surprisingly soft when you wanted to be. 

The sensation of being shoved brought Simon back to the present, you standing in front of him with a raised brow. He huffed out a breath in amusement, it coming out as more of a sigh. Not because of your shove itself—you were military trained, after all—but because of the fact he had already been leaning against the wall when you’d entered, meaning there wasn’t much point in it apart from essentially hitting him. Even if he had been standing without the wall behind him to support him, you wouldn’t have been able to so much as make him flinch. 

He supposed you using him as a punching bag was a vast improvement from pretending he wasn’t there at all.

“Fuck you.” 

The rest of the laugh from earlier threatened to escape, and part of him debated whether or not to let it. Your face would twist in a rage at the sound, no doubt, but maybe he wanted that. 

Maybe he wanted to see you lose it for once: let out the emotion you kept inside and away from them all despite the months working together. He had learned early on that while emotion on the job was a liability, processing outside of it was what allowed for a clear head on the battlefield. 

Your frustration had already festered and bubbled over, obvious by how you were attempting to pin him down with your sharp gaze alone. 

 (you’d never be able to, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy seeing you try.)

He tilted his head, scanning over you slowly before working his attention back up to your tense expression. If he wanted, he could defuse this situation. He could leave without feeding into your anger and allow you the time alone to decompress from whatever had left you shaking in front of him. 

In the time it took to consider his options, you seemed to have had enough and wandered off toward the cabinets. Simon watched you slam them open and shut, grumbling under your breath about something he couldn’t quite catch. What he did catch was what you were gathering: two mugs. tea packets, a pot. 

Pushing off the wall, he moved to a stool, sitting at the island separating the both of you instead. 

Your body tensed as he grew closer, but you didn’t snap at him or remove your attention from the water. That was an improvement considering how he’d seen your hackles raise the first time you two were so much in a room together. He always assumed it was due to training, but a part of him had a feeling that was only a small part of it. 

A calm slowly settled over you as the water began to boil, Simon catching the exhaustion and contemplation more clearly without your anger masking it. You didn’t move a muscle which was odd in and of itself, as no matter how much training you’d had, when on base, you’d always be fidgeting somehow. 

Finger taps, leg bounces, lip or cheek chewing, skin picking, lash pulling. 

Something.  

“You’re off.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t move. You didn’t even look up at him. 

“How so?”

Simon squinted at the tone, crossing his arms as he exhaled deeply. “Quiet.” 

“I recall that being something you hated when we first met. Something about scurrying about like a mouse. Or rat.” 

You finally lifted your head after shutting off the stove top, meeting his gaze once again as the steam from the pot rose before disappearing entirely. Simon grunted, recalling his harsh words and owning them rather than attempting to recall context. 

Had he been aware of how good your memory was, he might have been more careful about what he’d said to you early on. 

(he wouldn’t have. but you’d been around long enough to know he wasn’t exactly known for tact.)

“I hate lots’ve things. That ain’t one’ve ‘em.” 

A whistle echoed as you tilted your head. “Getting mixed signals here, Riley. Keep this up and one might think you actually like my presence.” 

“Whatever it is,” he stated, not breaking eye contact and ignoring the attempt at avoiding the conversation, “Solve it. Soon.”

The last thing they needed was to lose one of the few competent people that actually meshed well with them all. Maybe not off the field, but that didn’t matter nearly as much at the moment as on it. 

“Worried about me?” you said with a chuckle as if laughing as some sort of inside joke, turning your back to him and pouring the water into the mugs as the tea began to steep. 

“Depends on what it is makin’ you so…” 

He paused, attempting to find the word for what you looked like. 

Burnt out. 

No, you were full of energy as he’d seen earlier. Not the kind of energy you usually were, though. This was more subdued yet intense. 

Like you were watching and waiting for something to happen, almost. 

He squinted as you turned back around, a mug in each hand as you stepped closer for once, placing them both down on the kitchen island and pushing one toward him. He didn’t look at it as a single word slipped from his lips. 

“Nervous.” 

Your eyes widened a fraction, barely noticeable but enough so that he could clock it. With a clenched jaw, you swallowed hard and stared down into your mug. 

“I don’t do nervous.” 

He didn’t respond, knowing a lie when he heard one. The room dove into silence, somewhat more suffocating than the anger you’d ripped into the room with as he was attempting to relax. 

“What about you?”

“What about me?” 

“Do you do nervous?” 

You shifted your head just enough to meet his gaze, holding it as you always did. This time didn’t feel as amusing or interesting, threatening to cause a frown to slip onto his lips. You cradled the mug in both hands, eyes flickering down when he didn’t respond immediately, as if it’d give you whatever answers you were looking for. 

“It was a stupid question, sure, but you don’t have to think so hard ab—”

“Every day of my life.” 

Your head snapped up at that, but before you could say anything else, he stood, moving toward the door. You didn’t need more than that—you weren’t looking for anything other than that, he knew. 

All you’d needed was something (or one) to relate to after months of being unable to do so. 

An olive branch, if nothing else.

“Thanks for the tea.”

He wondered what you looked like as he walked out of the room. If your eyes were about to bulge from your skull, or if you were irritated all over at the fact you’d made him something and he hadn’t even touched it. 

(He would have never guessed that you were left staring at the untouched mug in confusion, expression darkening at the realization that old habits truly did die hard.)

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #cod fanfiction #ghost x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #not beta read #gender neutral reader #yes the title is a twenty one pilots reference #I'm a music nerd sue me~

[ivestas]

hearts aligned

PART TWO

Summary: He keeps pretending he doesn’t know you and it’s starting to get on your nerves. 

Tags: soldier!fem!reader (call sign “hound”) x ghost (2010 version), childhood friends, grief, smoking, lowkey reader x konig, canon divergence, hurt/comfort(?), barely edited, suicidal implications

Word count: 1.4k

Note: this is kind of the continuation of the konig fic i made with that reader, though not really? like these oneshots r connected but u can still read this without reading the other, but i recommend reading that one first

He was pretending not to know you. 

He avoided your gaze, full of ire and judgement, favoring the sight of the wall behind you. 

“You’re Captain Price?” You’d asked gruffly, trying to stave away the flame that licked at your nerves. “An honor. Didn’t think KorTac would be able to contact you guys.” 

“Could say the same for you, Hound.” Price responded, lighting a fat cigar. “Though I’m more surprised about how yer still alive.” 

Price’s men—all talking among themselves in the KorTac lounge—didn’t avoid your prying stare, nodding to you before turning back to their comrades. 

Ghost hadn’t. He’s not looked at you once. 

Instead, he’s still staring at the damn wall.

“What can I say? I have the devil’s luck. I’ll share my secrets if you ask nicely.” 

Price chuckled. “Keep ‘em to yourself—in any case, how long’re you plannin’ to stay?” 

You were staring fully at Ghost now. 

He’s turned his head, now talking to the Scotsman—Soap, was it? 

“Dunno. Just gonna stick around till I feel like I’ve done my part.” 

“You always been a vagrant? Why not settle down with KorTac—or, perhaps, with the 141? I wouldn’t mind the extra set of hands.” 

“I wouldn’t mind prying my molars out with my own hands, either.” 

He sighed. “I can’t help but wonder what crawled up your ass and died. Even if you’re opposed to the 141, why not KorTac? You even have your own right-hand man trailin’ after you like a lost pup.” 

It was your turn to sigh. “You’ve noticed König?” 

Price leaned against the wall, taking in a quick puff before snorting. “Hard not to when he’s a fuckin’ giant—you don’t seem to mind, though. Didn’t think you were that type.” 

“What type?” You smiled, extending a hand.

He passed you the cigar. His voice lowered despite the fact no one was listening. “The heartless type. You’re humoring the man when we both know you’d sooner die than settle down like that.” 

You took a long suck. It’s expensive—aromatic with clear punches of spice and earth. 

Too expensive.

You handed the cigar back. “I don’t mind the shadow, the sun’s pretty harsh here and I don’t wanna age like a pig.”

“Wrong thing to worry about,” he hummed, lifting the cigar to his mouth once more.

“Let me be a little vain, Price,” you stretched your arms. “In any case, I’m gonna go ‘hit the hay’. Have fun spending the night slaving away at papers.”

“Don’t remind me...” 

You laughed at that. You shot one last glance at Ghost—whose back was turned to you, prick—before heading out of the lounge. 

It was just after a few seconds of walking you heard footsteps behind you. You recognized the light steps immediately. 

Without bothering to turn, you spoke. “Not tonight, König. I’m busy.”

“...Tomorrow?” 

You hated the power his voice had over you—how fucking soft it was. It made you feel bad. Guilty.

You turned around then, offering him an apologetic smile. Under the dim, flickering lights of the hallway, he looked monstrous, but his eyes were warm. “How about the morning, then? We can shoot at the range on the crack of dawn.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, just enough for you to know he was smiling. “That sounds good, thank you.”

“Now, go to sleep. It’s late.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“I thought I told you before not to call me—”

He’d turned around already, walking off in the opposite direction, back to his barracks. 

I’ll talk to him about that tomorrow. You continued walking, making your way through the twisting hallways until you finally found it.

His room. 

It was an invasion of privacy in many ways, this could get you in trouble in an instant, but you didn’t give a shit. Not now.

Simon’s gonna answer to you, and he’s not gonna hide behind that shitty mask of his. Not now. Not after the past you’ve shared. 

You opened his door with ease, and inside, it was just as you expected: empty, save for the raggedy cot and personal equipment. 

There was a deep shadow cast in one of the shadows just along the wall where the door was. 

Shutting the door, you went to the corner, back pressed against the hard concrete as you just stared at where the door was. 

You were going to stay here till he comes, and you were only going to leave till he answered you. 

Until he finally looked at you. 

---

You didn’t know how much time has passed, your brain had been filled with nothing but static and air, but when you finally heard footsteps draw close to the door, you snapped out of your stupor. 

Standing tall, you crossed your arms, staring at the door as it swung open. 

He didn’t notice you—not right away, his peripheral gaze not aimed at the side where you were lurking. 

It was only when he shut the door and looked around the room that he finally noticed you. 

He froze, tired eyes sharpening with ice. 

But he wasn’t looking at you, no, he looked at your face, not your eyes. 

“What’re you doing here?” His voice was cold, callous.

“You know why I’m here, you piece of shit.” You took a step forward, lifting your chin. “Why have you been avoiding me?” 

He snorted. “Didn’t know we were in middle school again—”

“We might as well be with how much of a fucking idiot you are.” You took another step forward. 

He narrowed his eyes but remained as still as a stone. Still, not looking at you. “Well, now I’m here. Happy? Leave.”

“You—fuck, Simon—“

“Ghost.” He corrected coldly. 

“Oh, shut up, you’re Simon and you’ll always be Simon.” 

“You haven’t earned the right to say my name—“

“I earned that fuckin’ right the moment I took in your sorry ass back when we were kids.” Now you were right in front of him, looking up, trying to meet his gaze. 

And he did—fuck, he finally did, and what reflected was an incomprehensible mix of emotions you couldn’t decode—you couldn’t care to. 

Because that wasn’t enough, you realize. You didn’t just want his eyes, you wanted him. 

In hindsight, it was obvious, but at that moment, your rage was numbed by confusion. 

You stumbled back. 

Again, he was unmoving, but his hand had twitched forward.

The movement made you scoff. Your heart was on fire. 

You laughed. It was loud, harsh, grating. “You can’t just—you can’t just spend an eternity with me then run off and pretend I don’t exist—” 

“Then imagine how I felt when I found out the girl who’d been up my ass was not only a goddamn soldier, but one that ran around throwing her life away without even bothering to find me.” 

You froze. 

“You act like I’ve wronged you when it’s the other way around—I knew you, you and your little feats on the battlefield, flaunts of strength as though you had no value. As though I wasn’t a thought in your mind.” 

“I—“

“No, don’t ‘I’, shut up. Selfish little shit—so eager to toss your life, because what?—hadn’t you heard me when I said ‘I want you alive’? Back in your room when you were obsessed with video games and art? When you told me that secret, and I told you mine?” His words were straining, as though he were struggling to spit them out—to piece them together and coherently present them.

As if he, too, had been alight with anger. 

“...”

"You told me to cut off frayed links, and I did just that... so don’t be angry. I just did what you told me to—”

Your arms wrapped around him in an instant. 

Your chest was tight. Ragged. You squeezed the words out, though. “I’m... sorry.” 

Ghost—Simon—whoever this version of this man just stood, still and quiet, even when a part of you broke.

Just as when you were kids, except this time, there was no silent hope for the future, no yearning for a better past, but the cold and unyielding weight of reality slowly encompassing the two of you. 

That weight lightened the slightest bit when he reciprocated, arms around you too.

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare x reader #cod x reader #konig x reader #tw sui implied

[florestmoon]

Such a strange girl. (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Two of Hawkin’s branded Freaks form a friendship. Who can say they were surprised ? Eddie finds himself drawn to your personality and falls deeper as you make a place in his life.

Warnings: Reader is plus size/chubby because I said so. Mentions of a dead frog. lots of fluff to make up for my last fic ((: kinda all over the place lol

A/N: reader is inspired by Misty Day and Luna Lovegood because they are both INFPs in my heart, and those are my favorite type of people as I am one too. Also, let’s act like that dissection of frog lesson happens in high school instead of middle school ooook? Thank you and enjoy <3

Yes the title is inspired by The Perfect Girl by Mareux despite it not going with the aesthetic

“And you sure this is 15 grams?” The blonde pothead eyes Eddie suspiciously as he shook the baggy in between his fingers. Eddie’s innocent smile meeting that suspicion as he leaned himself against the wooden picnic table.

“Yeah, man. You can measure yourself if ya want.” He states simply, leaning his chin against his palm as he watched his customer continue to inspect the weed. He let out a grunt as his patience started to wear thin, “Are you going to pay me or not? You can always find some-”

“Fine.” A few 20 dollar bills were shoved into his hands. Eddie nodding at the pothead which he scoffed in return before walked away, leaving him alone in the woods that wrapped around Hawkins high.

“sucker.” Eddie snorts, pocketing the money for the weed he overcharged for. The pothead was an old customer who has screwed him over a few times, so he didn’t feel too bad for increasing his prices. He shuts the black metal lunchbox shut and jumps off the table.

He stretches out, pulling his arms above his head. The warmth of the sun kissing his skin in return when he looks up at the sky. He had half the mind to stay in his safe spot in the trees but figured Dustin would talk his ear off for missing lunch and his ideas for the next campaign.

That kid never gave him a break.it seemed although he was latched onto his side any change he got during school hours, finding him between class period or their breaks. He would go as far to ask for a few rides. Eddie didn't actually feel too annoyed at him. His amusement and pride at being looked up too by the new freshman made his days in Hawkins a little better.

Only a little bit.

Lunchbox rattling its items as he swings it beside him, Eddie makes his way through the woods. Taking slow steps to draw out the time before he has to walk in that crowded cafeteria.

Rustling off to the side catches his attention, tearing his tired gaze from a squirrel off the distance towards another secluded area that was rid of any trees. It was adorned with bushes and another picnic bench. There was a knitted bag discarded on top.

He made way towards the table, eying the bag before looking back at the bushes that were slightly shaking just moments before. He stares, not willing to get any closer because he’s seen enough horror movies to know that is the stupidest idea one could make and Eddie was not going to be the first kill in Hawkin’s encounter with a serial killer-

He had got distracted by his inner monologue when your figure suddenly pushing the leafs apart to step out had caught him by surprise.

“Jesus Christ!!” He yells as he trips backward, catching himself before he could fall on his ass. You stood up blinking owlishly at him before dusting off your long skirt. Picking off some sticks that had gotten stuck into the threads of the fabric, and leaves off the end of your hair. The actions so eerily calm and calculated as though you didn’t notice the panic expression on eddie’s face.

“Uh..” he struggles when you busied yourself with fixing your clothes. His voice catching your attention and your eyes finally gazing up at him again questionly. “. You nearly gave me a heart attack?”

“Oh I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You tilt your head at him.

“No, its ..it's um, it’s fine ?” He cleared his throat and crossed his arms across his chest and mimicked the tilt of your head with his own. Squinting his eyes at you, quickly taking in your appearance.

Black knitted cami top with a white see through bell sleeve top that showed off your soft arms. A brown long skirt with different patterns hugged your wider hips and tummy, the material becoming flowy just below your thighs and would have been touching the floor were it not for your multi colored clog low heels.

He recognized you immediately. He seen you around school between classes in the hallway. Your lockers were across from each other and he often found himself admiring the mismatched colors of your outfits. While he liked his monochrome clothes that filled his closet, he could appreciate your choice. It was cute.

You sat in the back in science class, often humming to yourself as you stared off out the windows while the teacher droned on and on about whatever lesson was placed that day. You were always scolded for your daydreaming but you never seemed bothered. Always smiling sweetly at the teacher and urging him to continue.

Everyone knew you were different. The same way many branded Eddie and his friends as freaks because of their choice of music and hobbies that surrounded a fantasy game. You were the weird girl of Hawkins.

“I just wasn’t expecting you to pop out like that on me.” he finally speaks again to snap him out of his staring. “Are you okay? Did you fall in there?”

“Nope.” You pop your lips as you move past him with a disappointed sigh. “I was looking for mushrooms.”

“Oh cool…” he pauses, “mushrooms?”

“Mhm. But it seems there aren't any in this part of the woods.” You frown as you circle slowly to look around you, focusing on some roots of the trees a bit ahead. “Little guys are hiding from me.”

Eddie followed your movements with a turn of his eyes, dropping his hands from their crossed position to lean against the table. Knocking his one of his ring knuckles on the edge. “Aren’t you suppose to not be touching random mushrooms, I ate one when I was 8 years old and was sent to the hospital.”

“You must have eaten a death cap, or a podostroma!” You beam and looks towards him in curiosity. “There are a few poisonous ones, but there are many more that are safe. Even edible.”

You walk towards him taking him in. “Those that I named can kill you, so it’s a surprise you survived that.”

“Yeah well, my dad probably would have been happier of that outcome than the hospital bill.” He chuckles before nearly grimacing at the darkness of the joke. He had a habit of using dark humor to deal with his past trauma. It helped him get better at dealing with his emotions, along with joking at his bullies to make their teasing a little easier to handle. He forgot that you may not react in a way his other friends do to his jokes, but when he looked back at you, you were surveying him amusingly.

“Oh I understand. I had my fair share of hospital visits. One time I got a broken arm from falling off a tree.” You grab your knitted bag and pull it over your shoulders. “Daddy didn't believe when I told him a fairy chased me out of it’s home.”

Eddie couldn't stop the bark of laughter that erupted from the unusual statement. Not to make fun of you or doubt you, just a little on the latter, but because how sincere you sounded. Your eyebrows furrowed as though it was vivid memory that you knew was true.

“I’m on the fairy’s side,” he grins at you after a moment. “Not cool to trespass on someone’s pad man.”

You shrug, beginning to walk away from him and forcing Eddie to hastily grab his lunchbox and catch up to walk beside you. “That’s true. I apologized by putting honey in a jar by the tree when I came back. They like sweets.”

“Is that so?” You hum as an answer him and look ahead at the many students that were playing a game of soccer out on the field that connected with the entry to the woods.

“Interesting..” he mumbles to himself, allowing to believe the fantasies you seemed to be confident in. Who was he to say anything when his own favorite game was build on it? Before he could try to keep the conversation flowing, building the courage to even ask your name despite already knowing it, you gasped and ran ahead towards a tree that was at the end of the tree line.

You bend down to look at a few white mushrooms that sprouted from the tree, tucked between the large roots surrounded by dirt. You touched the top of them gently and whispered. “Hey little guys.”

You took out a small pocket knife and carefully cut the ends of a few. Standing back up, you turned towards Eddie who was watching you with curious eyes, and grabbed his wrist to turn his hand palms up.

“Oh-”

“Nature’s candy!” You smile as you drop the mushrooms in his hands. “These you can eat. No hospital visits.”

Eddie barely glances at the mushrooms, staring at you when you close his fingers over the mushrooms carefully and look up at him. “I promise these will taste better.”

“Oh o-okay,” he gulps and breaks the eye contact to look down at your fingers over his. “Thanks.”

You nod happily and pull away, much to his dismay. He missed the touch already. The bell ringing snaps your attention back to the school building and sigh dreamily. “We missed the pudding they gave out at lunch today. Oh well.”

With a shrug, you walk away and begin making your way across the field. Eddie follows close behind, playing with the mushroom in hand as he watches the back of your head.

-

Eddie was not in fact happy that someone asked to meet up in the woods again the next day during lunch. He was not happy at the idea of walking the same path to find the secluded area that he met you 24 hours prior. And he definitely was not happy to see you sitting with your legs criss crossed on top of the wooden table. Hands placed beside you and holding your body as you lean backwards, head tilted up towards the sky with your eyes closed.

Your hair spread flowing down your exposed shoulders and he was not staring by a tree like a creep. You tilt your head towards him, a few strands brushing off your shoulder. Eyes staying close as you regard him. “Hi Eddie.”

Shit.

He coughs onto his hand and ignores the flush that threatens to take over the back of his neck. “Shit, ha. Yeah, how’d you even know I was there?” He laughs nervously as he placed his hands in his jackets pockets and walks towards your relaxed figure. You were wearing a white sun dress with boots.

“I saw you walking towards where you always deal.” You say nonchalantly, “did you try the mushroom?”

“Yeah,” he gotten high and shoved the full thing in his mouth, gagging at the dryness and realize he was stupid enough to not even cook it or do something different with it. “It tasted amazing. 10/10, I think i’m going to become vegan and just eat whatever I can find in these woods.”

Your relaxed lips tug at the corner into an amused smile, “don't do that. It’ll get boring.” Eyes finally opening to look at Eddie who had sat himself on the bench below you. Hands grasp together as he looks up at you.

“You always spend your lunch here alone?” Eddie asks, leaning his cheek on his palm and tapping his fingers on his cheek. “I never really seen you eat in the cafeteria.”

You leaned forward and kicked your legs out, admiring your boots. “I like being out in the sun. We only get a few days of sun this week before fall comes around.” You brush a stick off the table with the tip of your boot. “So I want to get some of its energy before it’s gone.”

“Besides, there’s not many tables left for me to sit.”

Eddie hums along to what you say, listening to the smoothness of your voice as you talk. You spoke so delicately, as though you wanted to draw out what you were saying, not caring to rush. He wants to listen to you talk all day. “You should sit with us, with Hellfire.”

“Hellfire?” You question. “What’s that?”

Eddie stands up with purpose, allowing his smile that shows his dimples to spread across his face. He kicks his leg up as he spins in a half circle and faces you. “Only one of Hawkins best club to date, where we play the fantasy game that has so many parents holding their children in fear-” he makes show of holding his arm to his chest, “- that they’ll be corrupted next by its ugly claws.”

You giggle as he makes a face of horror before he leans forward and places both arms by your sides. Leveling his face with yours. “Played dnd before?”

You shake your head. He smiles at that, “well it’s pretty fun. At least I try to make it fun in my campaigns.” He pulls away, blushing slightly at the fact he may have invaded your space.

“I’ve heard about it before. It has dragons in it right?” You ask, voice peaking with curiosity. “And elves?”

Eddie nods, bringing his hair in front of his mouth as he smiles down at you. “Yeah, but that’s not even the best thing.” He whispers, your eyes widening comically as you nod for him to continue.

“It has fairies.” He basks in the gasp you let out as you jump off the table and clap your hands together.

“Can I be a fairy?” You wiggle in your place as you watch Eddie match your energy. He nods excitedly, “fuck yeah, I can make you the best fairy dnd will ever see.”

“Oh I never been this excited about something.” You bite your lip as you play with your hands. “This is even more exciting than that time I saw a small bald girl throw a van with her mind once.”

“Glad to hear…Wait, wha-”

“My dad says I might have imagined it. I tend to daydream a lot.” You ramble as you grab your bag and grab Eddie’s wrist to began tugging him along. “He says it may have to do with me being dropped as a baby, but I don’t think that’s what really happened..”

You ramble as your hands unknowingly slide down to intertwine with his, Eddie’s face completely flushing at your touch and trying his best to keep up with your wild story

—

After that, you sat with the Hellfire club, the rest of the group taking one look at you and deciding, yeah you definitely fit in with the freaks of Hawkins. Especially when you would go on your tangent of stories that for some reason, Dustin Mike and Lucas fully latch onto. Mumbling to each other that, yes that totally makes sense.

Eddie begin to sit with you during science class, ignoring the teacher’s protest of changing the seating chart and would let you play with his rings during class. Your soft whispers counting his rings at the start of his class, before you would focus on the different designs. He would agree with the random names you gave for each one, laughing when you tried them on yourself and they slipped off your fingers despite your efforts of trying to keep them in place.

You begun accompanying on his rides after school, or after a hellfire club campaign. Which you were slowly understanding more and more, your fairy character marking his notes in his dnd binder. You still had difficulty building their stats, always whining that if he could just draw it in cute clothes and not do the extra stuff. But you listened to him when he gave pointers on your character arch, even pitching the ideas.

“What if they had the power of resurgence ?” You asked one afternoon. Fingers braiding a section of his hair as he sat on the floor of your bedroom, back pressed against the edge of your bed.

“Power of resurgence huh?” He studied his notes. “I like the sound of that.”

You were bleeding into his life more and more.

His days in Hawkins had gotten better ever since you begin to flood every part of his mind. Your random quirks and habits occupying his mind on random parts of his day, his attention drifting whenever he did deals in the woods, eyes wandering between the trees searching for any mushrooms that could have sprouted.

Your favorite ice cream was mint. He was horrified upon discovering it when he watched you eat it from the small pint in your hands, as you happily took out a huge chunk out that barely was supported by the small spoon. He was also scared how you were able to bite instead of licking it like a normal person.

But he made sure to keep mint ice cream in his freezer from then on. Like how he kept the different plants you had grown in your garden that you gifted to him. His daily routine of making sure they got enough water was stressful, he never had that type of responsibility, but worth it when your eyes sparked in pride after noticing them decorate his room.

A few Fleetwood Mac’s records also taken place in his room, so when you would come over, he could watch you sway your body to the soft voice that was Stevie Nicks. Your knitted cardigan flowing around you as you spun happily to the beat. His heart beat skipped at the sight.

He swore you would be the cause of his death, with the way his heart was skipping beats around you constantly. Like the time you had impulsively ran out into the rain after a hellfire club campaign. Your screams of delight heard over the thunder off in the distance, tongue sticking out to taste the rain drops.

“Jesus Y/N! You're going to catch a cold!” He yells as he runs after you making sure you didn’t slip and fall. “Or be fucking cooked by lightening!” You shook your head, wet hair slapping your face when you look back at him. He wished he could have taken a picture, wondering if their new addition to their club, Will, could convince his brother to let him borrow his camera one of these days.

“Come on, you mad woman! Onward, to the van! Chop !chop !” He pretends to push you and you go relunctly, wrapping your arms around yourself as you jog towards the vehicle. Before he unlocks the door, he pulls open the side of the van and reaches in to grab his leather jacket. You wait as he slams it shut and quickly helps you inside passenger seat.

He wraps the jacket around your shoulder, clicks your seatbelt in place, looking you dead in the eyes as though scolding a child. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Make coco?” You quirp, eyes twinkling. “With extra marshmallows.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and slams the door shut, feigning annoyance but cant stop his lovesick expression as he rounds towards the driver side. Knowing that you’ll be getting your coco by the end of the night.

And you did. You sat on his couch in his trailer, warm cup of coco in your hands in a change of pajamas he gave you. You kept his jacket around you, even putting it on when you left that morning. He let you keep it.

—

When Eddie had walked into the class that you both shared, ready to show you a brand new set of rings his uncle gifted him, he noticed your unusual demeanor.

Now you were an unusual person, a fact no one could deny. But you, with a serious expression and your body rigid was something Eddie has never seen before. The pencil in your hand was tapping rapidly against your notebook as you stared off into the distance.

“You good?” He asks as he pulls his seat out, barely noticing the the weird set up on the table you shared together. You didn’t respond. “Hey, talk to me.”

Scalpels were placed carefully side by side, near a huge lump that was covered by a napkin. Eddie glanced up at the chalkboard and exhaled at the letters that read back to him.

Dissection.

Oh.

“Alright , today we are going to learn the anatomy of a frog. Exciting right?” A few ew’s echoed across the classroom alongside some of the jocks snickering, “I set a frog on each table, alongside the tools that we will be using.”

Mr. Clark rounded his own desk, picking up his tools and showing the class as demonstration. “Now, you will work with your partner to carefully dissect the frog. And we will go slowly and point out each organ. Okay?”

Your hand shot up, shaking it when he glances at you. “Yes y/n?”

“I already did my research before hand.” You quickly state, your breath shaky. “On the organs. I also have a lot of knowledge on frogs so I was thinking maybe me and Eddie wouldn't have to-”

“You will be dissecting the frog with the rest of the class.”

“But Mr.Clark-”

“No buts.” He narrows his eyes at you, shaking his head dissaprovingly. “This is part of your grade and mandatory for todays lesson.”

“Come on man,” Eddie finally speaks up, trying his best to not glare daggers at the older man. Your hands were trembling and he couldn’t stand the way your face paled. “You can’t force use to do this.”

“Unless you both want to fail my class, then yes I can.” Mr. Clark replies curtly.

“It's not right.” You frown. “The frog doesn't deserve to be cut into like this.”

“It’s already dead dumbass.” Many giggles followed as one the girls in the front of the class spoke up.

You turn towards the voice and glare at her, the first time Eddie ever seen you mad. “Would you want someone to cut your body open when you’re dead?”

“I’m not some stupid frog.”

Eddie snorts. “Yet you look like one.”

The class errupts in Ohhhh’s at Eddie’s insult before quickly being shut down by Mr. Clark’s hand slapping down onto the table. You and Eddie both turn to see him walking to your table.

“Ms. L/N, I understand this will be difficult. But I cannot allow you to skip out in this because it will lead to others wanting to do the same.” He looks down at you. “So. No more interruptions.”

You nod shakily, looking down at your hands when he walks away and returns to instructing everyone to pull the napkin to reveal their frogs that laid spread out in front of them. Eddie reaches over to place his hand on top of yours when you try to pull the napkin.

“We don’t have to.”

“I don’t want you to fail Eddie.” You sniff and pull the napkin away. The dead frog was laid on his back. Eddie watched you sit back in your seat as your lips wobbled. “Can you..can you do it?”

You whisper it, looking at him with teary eyes and Eddie decides he would do anything to wipe that sadness from your face. He nods squeezing your hand before listening to the instructions carefully, trying not to notice your flinching when he cuts into it’s tiny body.

Eddie isn’t exactly screamish to these kind of things. He watched horror movies growing up and found his fair share of dead animals in the woods. His father had made him hunt a few times and although he felt horrible, he never thought much of the deers he killed. But seeing the way tears stained your notebook pages as you wrote down the information that was being told, the guilt weighed heavy in him at what he was doing.

Class went by fast. The bell rung to signal the end of it and you grabbed your bag and was ready to run out of there, only waiting for Eddie to grab his own belongings. He wrapped his arm around you as you both followed the other students out the classroom. When you were out of the classroom, you rubbed angrily at your cheeks.

You were about to speak but Eddie had pulled his arm away, pushing himself back inside the classroom before the last student shut the door. You waited confused outside for a few moments before Eddie came back outside, hands carrying a bundle of napkins.

Mr.clark’s voice was yelling out for him.

“Let’s go.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you along with him, not answering your bewildered questions as you both leave the hallways and march towards the woods.

“What are we doing?” You frown as he drops his bag and grabs yours to set beside him. He turns toward you and shakes his head to rid of the curls from his face.

“We’re giving him a badass burial.”

He opens his hands and unravels the napkins, showing you the body of the dead frog. Your hands reaching towards it before looking up at Eddie.

He marvels at your sad smile. “Okay.”

You both make use of the whole lunch period to dig up a hole to place Mr. Jelly, your choice of name, in. You had gathered a few mushrooms and flowers, along with sticks and rocks to create a makeshift headstone on top of the dirt. Eddie helped you surround it with the mushrooms, and spread the petals of flowers in the middle.

“I wish I had my fairy’s powers..” you whispered when you both were done and Eddie had finished a reciting a shitty prayer. “To be able to bring him back. So he can find his family and they can hop on a pond.” You wipe the dirt off your hands.

“I’m sure he’s happy in heaven, sweetheart.” Eddie reassures, taking a petal that got stuck in your hair. “Bet he’s eating all the flies his small stomach can handle. All fat and happy.”

The image must have popped in your head with the way you began to giggle and grab onto his arm. Your head leaning against him as it died down and you sighed. You turn slightly to place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you Eddie.”

“Don’t mention it.” He stares down at the small stones, ignoring the feeling of his heart nearly beating out of his chest. The kiss burning into his cheek that was flaming bright red. “You should have seen his face when I snatched it before he could start collecting the bodies.” He furrowed his eyebrows and flared his nostrils.

“Eddie, what oh earth are you doing with that frog??” He mimics with the deepest voice he could, which had you bursting into laughter again.

He wants to hear it over and over again.

—

“Shit. Where the fuck is it?” Eddie grumbles. The van shook as he crawled around like a maniac, shoving different things out of the way as he looked under every trash that littered the back of the van. Your body swayed from the ruckus but you stayed focused on eating the raspberries that you placed on each of your fingers.

You were two down, the other eight fingers spread out in front of you.

“Nope. Not there. Really, not here? Wait, who the fuck put this here? I do not listen to that.” He tosses a random cassette behind him, nearly hitting you which he apologizes for before returning his search. “Hm. No..gross, that brat really left his Twinkie in my van!”

You suck another raspberry off a finger. “That’s mine.”

That time, he didn’t miss when he aimed the half eaten pastry at your head.

He finally fishes out what he was looking for with an ‘aha!’ from under the driver seat, returning to his spot next to you. The slide door was opened and you sat dangling your legs off the edge of the van. By the time he sat next to you, your left hand was free of any raspberries.

You held your right hand in front of him and whined. “Eddie I can’t eat anymore or i’ll turn into a raspberry."

“No one told you to try to eat the whole container you idiot,” he grabs your wrist and carefully bites each one off, not letting his teeth or lips touch your fingers, and lets his mouth be full of them. You wiggle your fingers happily before he pushes your hand away.

“I was able to eat that container of strawberries last time.”

“Yeah and you threw up all over my kitchen and cried that you could hear the cries of the strawberries in your stomach.” He chews through his words. Hands grab your swinging legs and pulls them over his lap, forcing for you to turn slightly and lean back on the side of the van door. He couldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy the way the your thighs felt on top of his.

He didn’t think about the way his hands would feel squeezing your thighs. Nope nope, never crossed his mind.

“Because they were.” You huff, hands folding over your stomach as you look off towards the lake that he parked his van in front of. He hums. Fingers rubbing your ankles which you accept happily.

“What were you looking for again?” You tilt your head towards him, catching the blush that spread across his cheeks as he uses his hand that wasn’t rubbing your ankles to hand you the two tickets

“You were mentioning the other day about Fleetwood Mac holding a concert a few towns over...”

He didn’t get to finish before your excited scream blasted his eardrums and you sat up, tearing your legs away from him and grabbed the tickets.

“Oh!” You gasped as you stared at them in awe. Blinking rapidly like it would magically disappear if you looked away for took long. “Oh, oh!! Oh wow? Eddie, how did you get these? Everyone said they were sold out”

“Have a few good links. Friends who gotten me and my band gigs and all that,” he explains, cherishing the fondness that you aimed towards him. Your soft wide eyes staring at him before you lunged forward, wrapping your arms his neck tightly.

“Oh thank you thank you! Eddie you’re the best,” you gasp and pull away to stare at the tickets again.

“It’s a 7 hour drive but I'm sure my girl can get us there.” He smacks the side of his van and leans back rubbing the side of his neck , “uh, unless you’ll rather go with someone else then that-”

“No!” You place the tickets down, tugging his sleeve and shaking your head. “I want to go with you.” Eddie sighs in relief.

“Good,” He licks his lips, “because I totally wouldn't have sabotaged their car if you picked someone else.”

You shake your head amused before crossing your legs and biting your lip. You shook your knees in excitement as you continued to read over the words on the tickets over and over game. Eddie admired you as the nerves begin to eat at the bottom of his stomach.

He had planned it for a while now. Saving up the money from his drug deals, along working part time at a mechanic Wayne referenced him to, so he could afford the tickets. Although he got a good deal from his friends, the tickets were still expensive. Heck they were more than the tickets he gotten to see his own favorite band.

But it was worth with the way you trembling with happiness. It would be even more worth it when he sees you dancing freely to the music that he admits had blended in with his own tapes, and whatever outfit you throw together.

It’ll be worth it when by the end of night, he finally asks you to be his girlfriend. He’s been trying to find the perfect moment to pop the question but every time he would be distracted by your personality or beauty, enjoying every waking moment you have together. By the end of the day, he had fallen even deeper in his feelings for you and the more he was afraid of confessing.

But he was going to do it at that concert, and he’s going to make sure it goes perfect, and-

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?” You brought him out of his unraveling thoughts.

“You’re my boyfriend now.”

Eddie chokes on his spit as you watch him with a calm expression. His hand hitting his chest. He turns his head to look at you with a twisted expression. “Excuse me??”

Shoulder rising in a shrug, you respond calmly. “I said-”

“No . No, no I know what you said,” He leans forward placing his elbows on his thighs as he rubs at his eyes. “I just..let me process it. Before I pass out.”

“What? I like you a lot-” Eddie swears he nearly coughs up a lung again. “And you do really nice things for me. And I feel happy with you and I would make you mushroom soup if you asked me,” you ramble watching him finally gain his composure. “And we had a burial for Mr. Jelly, so..I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Shit, y/n.” Eddie exhales. Your confession catching him off guard, he wasn’t sure what to say until he saw that your confidence was beginning to waver. A frown threatening to form. “I had this whole thing planned to confess my feelings for you at the concert and you go and give me a heart attack !”

Again. Not the first time.

You blink. “Oh really? Well we can wait until then. I’ll act like I don’t know anything. I’m good at pretending-”

Eddie shuts you up by pulling you forward and smashing your lips together. The raspberry taste still lingering in both your lips as you kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist when he pulls you closer to him.

Okay, maybe this was better than what he had planned. This was worth it.

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson fic #yuh we die as simps

[kadajsbitch]

How they deal with you when you’re emotional:

Final Fantasy VII

Warnings: Language, 18+, talking about mental health

A/n: This is my first time writing for this blog so bear with me. Idk if it’s going to be an active blog, but I got so much FF7 stuff I made and haven’t posted so I’m just going to drop it here lol 💀 hope you enjoy.

Also gifs aren’t mine.

Yazoo:

His answer to seeing you emotional will always be space.

It pisses him off to see you upset but not in a, "Oh my poor baby" way, but more of a "I don't want their ass being moody because that kills my mood, and it's annoying that they can't even calm the fuck down to tell me what's wrong right now." Way… 💀

So in a way he cares... but overall, he just wants things to be “normal” so he can continue on with his usual ways of life peacefully.

Once you calm the hell down, he'll come to you with maybe a tissue and a glass of water (so that your not snorting your own snot every thirty seconds) and he'll ask you what happened.

If your having an emotional outburst due to something like someone pissing you off, or your in physical pain and/or mental pain, he'll go into action to make sure its immediately taken care of ether that be dragging you to a doctor, or taking care of who bothered you.

If it's something having to do with something minor like a movie or book making you cry, then he very much will not be comforting you. You not being able to handle something fictional or even something based on real life (true crime, etc) is your own fault.

Maybe if said book is a work of Non-fiction and it was genuinely fucked up, he might add two cents and validate you on why your pissed but don't expecting him to cuddle and love you, and wipe your tears.

If it has to do with family stuff however, his reactions vary depending on the type of family situation, but he'll definitely try to be more comforting in the sense of not outright leaving you immediately despite it making him uncomfortable.

Kadaj:

Unlike Yazoo who walks away because he's not in the mood to deal with you in your upset state, he walks away because he knows how he gets when he's like this.

The last thing he would want was someone to see him at his lowest, and he feels it'll make you less prone to getting in this state if you don't have someone constantly comforting you.

Doesn't mean he isn't concerned however.

He'll find you after awhile and ask for a detailed explanation as to why you were so upset and like Yazoo, he goes into action.

If it's more on mental or physical side of an issue, he may offer some advice as to what he knows instead of wordlessly getting things set up for you, like Yazoo would.

If it's something minor, he's definitely annoyed but feels better knowing it's not something threatening.

"Why would you watch/read something like that when it clearly states in the description that it's that sort of (movie/show/book, etc)?" He’ll ask, probably rolling his eyes as he does so.

"Don't get anymore of this if your not going to be able to control your emotions."

Again, his reactions would vary depending on the family situations, because he does have some knowledge and experience when it comes to that, but he'd definitely be more comforting.

Loz:

Unlike either of his brothers, he immediately is standing up, looking at you like “what the fuck happened?"

Considering he could give less of a fuck about where and who he gets emotional with, you being upset in front of him doesn't phase him. It's just he wants to know what and/or who made this way.

In a way, he also wants to be there with you while you're in this state because he feels like he's the one who's constantly over emotional in front you, and so to him, it's like an "even" thing when it finally happens.

Not so much even, but he feels more comfortable being emotional when you are considering his brothers are far from emotional unless it's anger they’re displaying.

Surprisingly, he gives good mental advice if it has to do with mental health. Physical is something he'd have to get a second opinion on if that was the case, but regardless he's trying to help.

Uncomfortable with straight up cuddling (as are his brothers 💀), but he'll sit with you in either silence or try to talk to you to help you calm down.

If the reason for your emotional outburst has to do with something media like, he'll probably watch/read it to see if it'll give him that reaction too but most likely not. In that case he’ll probably shrug, a small smirk coming on his face because he can’t help but to feel in a sense more emotionally mature for once, but he’ll refrain from rubbing it in until your calm enough to handle his teasing.

If it's family, then he'll definitely listen and even end up throwing a situation that he's went through that's similar, once you finish and validate you on how your feeling. Overall, out of the three, he’s probably the best choice to talk to.

Bonus:

Sephiroth:

For the sake of this, I’ll be using C.C/Reunion Sephiroth. The remnants are still fairly new, and are adapting which is why I feel like they wouldn’t be out right evil in how they handle people they are acquainted with or have a more personal relationship with’s, emotional outburst.

Sephiroth is tricky when it comes to others having emotional outburst… as a war general, he’s used to seeing the effects of and after battle take toll on people and how they may become mentally vulnerable from it, and because of that he can be very indifferent and can come off a little harsh when he’s “comforting” those around him.

“Control yourself. This won’t be the first time you face obstacles such as these, so there’s no use in crying.”

If this is a situation outside of his usual work element however, he’d definitely feel conflicted on how to proceed.

Like his two other counterparts, I feel he’d separate himself from them due to randomly being thrown in this position. More so to keep himself calm.

I mean if we look back at C.C, he seemed fairly uncomfortable with Zack getting upset about the situation at hand, despite it being a dire one. So he’d definitely be further unraveled by someone having an outburst about something he may view as minuscule.

If it’s something having to do with someone bothering you, he’d have a quick reaction.

“Consider it taken care of.” He’d say stiffly, before hightailing it away from you to deal with whoever it was, hoping by the time he returned to brief you on what happened, you’d be more stable.

If it was mental or physical, like Kadaj he’d offer some advice on what he knew, but would ultimately do the more rational thing and suggest you speak to a doctor and/or therapist for your problems.

Again, going off from what we saw, C.C Sephiroth isn’t someone who really likes to be touched (despite him being so handsy in the remake 💀) so don’t be expecting a hug or for him to hold you or anything.

One time, a cadet was upset and he tried to force himself to do something other than stiffly telling them to get over it… he awkwardly held his hand out, and patted them… on the head.

While it did stop them from crying, the looks he got from those around him definitely made him reconsider ever offering physical comfort again. (He was trying though 😭)

If it’s something having to do with media, whether it be fictional or not, he’d simply shrug and tell you not read/watch those things if you couldn’t stomach it.

Family isn’t something he really has a grasp on, but he knows it’s important, and for your sake will try to listen and give his thoughts as best as he can for the sake of comfort.

#final fantasy vii #advent children #kadaj ff7 #kadaj #yazoo ff7 #yazoo #loz ff7 #loz #sephiroth ff7 #sephiroth #crisis core #kadajsbitchlol #final fantasy vii headcannons #headcanon

[sacredsnape]

How would Snape react to his partner sitting on his lap unexpectedly?

the urge to sit on this man's lap is astronomical. i was just going to do a short reaction to this but decided to write a mini oneshot instead 😌

summary: spending time with your boyfriend at spinner's end means reading with each other and you trying to make your way onto his lap.

warnings: a suggestive conversation ensues

genre: fluff

link to masterlist

you sat across from your boyfriend in a weathered yet comfortable armchair, a book propped open on your lap. the fireplace was on, warming the living room and keeping the cold out of the house.

every christmas break, you and snape would go to spinner's end. he needed to get away from hogwarts to get his mind off of the stresses of being a teacher, so spinner's end was his place to go, especially because all of his favorite books and newspapers were there.

you and snape both shared a deep love for reading, which had brought the two of you together in the first place. you were the new librarian at hogwarts and snape often came in to get textbooks and other needed materials for his students.

every time he came in, the two of you would talk about whatever you and him were currently reading. these weekly bonding moments eventually became something more (at one point, you became convinced that snape was just dropping by the library to see you).

snape sat in the armchair opposite yours, the daily prophet open in his hands. you slowly closed your book and placed it down on the coffee table, your eyes slowly traveling up and down your boyfriend's body.

snape was a big cuddler, which surprised you the first time that you found out, considering that you always assumed that he was the type of person to refuse any and all physical affection. the first time you and him cuddled, though, he refused to let you go, resting his head on your chest while you stroked his hair and told him all about your day.

you became as needy for cuddles as he was, which prompted you to desire something else; you wanted to sit on his lap. you'd never done it before and you craved the feeling of curling up on his lap and snuggling against him until the two of you fell asleep.

you stood up and walked towards snape with an innocent smile. he looked up from his newspaper, flicking it down and softly asking you, "do you need something, my love?"

you didn't say anything, simply turning around and plopping your ass right onto his lap. snape made a strange little sound, something between a gasp and a moan, before he gently gripped your hips.

"what are you doing, y/n?" he quietly asked you, biting his lip as he stared at the back of your head.

"just sitting on your lap," you giggled, turning your head to look at him. "is that okay?"

you gave your hips a slow rock, causing snape to hiss and grip them harder. "yes, as long as you stay still," he mumbled, his cheeks quickly turning pink.

"and why should i stay still?" you teased. snape rolled his eyes and snaked an arm around your front, pulling you flush against his chest.

"you know why. don't be a tease," he sternly warned you, giving your cheek a firm kiss. "actually, it's quite comfortable with you sitting here on my lap."

"it'll be even more comfortable with me sitting on your dick."

"y/n!"

you giggled again and kissed him. "i was just kidding, sev. unless..." you wiggled your eyebrows at him. "but for now, i just want to be wholesome with you."

snape let go of your hips, motioning for you to stand. you did, watching him put the newspaper to the side before he patted his lap. you quickly sat, straddling him as you cuddled him and sighed happily.

"this is so nice," you smiled up at him as he intertwined his fingers with yours. "i wanna surgically attach myself to your lap."

snape made a shocked face at your words. "y/n, that's weird."

you snorted and pressed a kiss to his neck, replying, "fine, it is a little weird. i just love sitting on your lap so much. you're so cozy."

snape fondly smiled down at you, kissing your forehead repeatedly before saying, "i love you a lot, you know."

"i love you too, you know," you mused, looking down at yours and snape's conjoined hands.

"that, i do know," snape happily said as his smile grew. "and i am glad to know."

#severus snape #snape content #snape love #snape imagines #snape one shot #professor snape #snape fanart #snape fanfiction #snape fic #hogwarts #snape x y/n #snape x you #snape defense #snape community #anti snaters #pro severus snape #severus art #snape x reader #snape

[blasphemecel]

Portgas D. Ace — Kind Of, Maybe

PAIRING: Portgas D. Ace/Reader WORD COUNT: 4.1k TYPE: Friends to Lovers, Fluff & Humor, a little Pining, Modern AU WARNING(S): Drunken shenanigans at one point, Reader is a dangerous driver (inspired by my friend who has almost done in almost all of us), A few NSFW jokes

It’s not often that Ace is the more sensible one or the less idiotic one. After he came back from a trip overseas, however, you were unfortunately the only one who was available to pick him up from the airport. He’s never been in your car before, but he has heard Sabo’s horror stories about your driving. Sabo banned Luffy from driving with you when he alarmingly claimed it sounded like fun, but he never banned Ace from being your passenger, and sometimes Ace wonders if Sabo even cares about him.

Yes, he’s a grown ass man and Sabo can’t ban him from anything, and yes he’s being melodramatic, but those are just semantics.

He’s spacing out contemplating this grave danger he’s in, not paying attention to you until your voice brings him out from his stupor. You still have one hand around the wheel while you’re holding up your phone with the other. “Yeah man, that’s my order. Hey, Ace, what flavor of pizza do you want?”

“Eyes on the road!” he cries, realizing you’ve turned to look at him.

“Eyes on the road, I don’t think that’s a flavor. Oh, wait, he’s talking about me,” you say, looking ahead again. “Ok, you can make it a veggie then.”

“You know I don’t like that one,” he says, glaring at you. You’ve gotta be doing it on purpose.

You roll your eyes in annoyance. “He’s such a diva. Change the veggie to a barbecue. Ok, thanks. Love you.”

“Why are you telling the pizza person you love them?”

“I have no idea,” you say, throwing your phone to the backseat.

“You’re a very dangerous person, you know that?” asks Ace.

With a flick of your hand, you dismiss his concerns and take a turn. Through a suspicious squint, Ace vaguely recalls these streets, but they don’t lead to his and his brothers’ house.

“You’re going in the wrong direction.”

“I thought we’re going to my house,” you say.

“Why would we be going there?”

“To eat, moron.”

Ace doesn’t even remember agreeing to this — probably because you didn’t bother asking him if he wants any — but he sighs and gives in without a word since you already ordered for him, too, and it’s not like he would’ve denied your invitation in the first place. Instead he chooses to change the subject.

“Does your car have a name?” he blurts out.

“What?”

“You seem like the kinda douche who’d have a car named Becky or something.”

“Shut up,” you say, reaching out to punch him in the shoulder, but try to concentrate on driving again before he starts wailing about his ‘safety’ and how you guys are going to ‘die.’ “If my car had a name, it’d be something cool like Orgasmtron-3000.”

He snorts at you, eyes crinkling at your stupidity. “Pfft. That’s lame and you know it.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” you declare with a flippant hand gesture before you turn up your nose like a snob. Ace really wishes you’d watch the damn road, but the scenery becomes more familiar the longer the drive goes on. Somehow the two of you are still intact by the time you pull up near your apartment complex.

He’s only ever swung by your place for late night parties and his memories of those times are foggy at best. Now, it’ll be different: 1. Both of you will be sober, and 2. The other borderline alcoholics won’t be there to keep you company. The thought makes him a little nervous suddenly, even though he knows it’s silly. It’s just you. And he survived the ride so it’s a tad too late to be stressed.

“Soo, how was your trip?” you ask once you’ve both made it inside the elevator.

“Fun at times, not so fun at others,” he tells you, pressing the button for the floor you live on since he’s closer. “You know how it is.”

“Wow, you’re so descriptive.”

“Aw, like you really wanna listen to all that.”

This is unlike him since Ace loves chewing your ears off with his stories, though you suppose he’s not inebriated enough to start telling you about the time he and Sabo pissed in a pond and got arrested. Which is something you’ve heard about around fifteen times at your get-togethers.

You smile your usual sharp and evil little grin, inching closer to him, his nose hovering near yours, breath mingling. “What if I do?”

Ace tilts his head to the side, not understanding what you’re getting at. “I don’t know? I’d tell you, I guess.”

The elevator doors open and you back away from him like nothing had happened, face slacking, leading the way to your apartment. He follows in your stead and you two spend some time catching up for a few minutes until the pizza arrives. You act like you’ve forgotten you ordered it already, which doesn’t surprise him, but Ace would also rather give himself a noogie than miss out on free food.

Your return is cause for celebration enough, so he cheers and you bow while balancing the two boxes in your hands.

“You even got the biggest ones,” he points out with a genuine sense of wonder, like you’ve made him the happiest man alive by buying some shit full of grease. You place them on the table, re-taking your spot next to him on the couch.

“What can I say? My riches precede me.” Not to mention you had a discount on that, but you’re not about to tell him lest your delusions of luxury shatter.

“Not to be that guy, but that’s… not how you use that word.”

At his response, you scoff. “Go to Italy once and you start thinking you’re all fancy.”

“You’re an idiot,” he says, nudging you in the ribs and laughing at your expense once more. Your scowling only gets more intense, but then he stops when an idea crosses his mind. He reaches for another slice and then he brings it up to your face like he’s trying to tempt a horse with carrots. “Try some of mine. It’s really good.”

“Sure,” you concede, parting your mouth, about to take a bite. If you’re generous (which you’d insist you are, usually), you might even share yours.

At this moment Ace falls asleep with his head landing on your shoulder. Both of his pizza slices end up on your shirt and one of his arms dangles around your waist. Your eye twitches as visions of washing these new stains enter your mind. For a second you contemplate kicking him out to get robbed or something, but you end up letting him doze on you anyway.

___

You’re laying down on your towel and Ace invited himself to sit on it, too, in front of you under the parasol. It’s cramped and you don’t have enough space to stretch your legs without exposing them to the harsh sun. Besides, you’d overdramatized how you burned your soles when you guys were settling down earlier. “Why’d you even wanna go to the beach? You can’t even swim.”

“I told you already!” You can imagine the dumb expression he’s making with ease, even though you can only see him rubbing the back of his head. “I wanted to go boating with you. And then I forgot to take the boat…”

Ignoring how idiotic that is, you say, “I think you just like having an excuse to be shirtless.”

Ace clicks his tongue, your remark reminding him of something. “They actually still do that dresscode thing at restaurants, can you believe that?”

You can believe that considering he got kicked out on your birthday a few years ago for showing up in just an unbuttoned shirt, a ridiculous cowboy hat and crocs. Then you had to sneak him in through the bathroom window. Sometimes your genius mind astounds you.

“No, that’s totally a shock,” you say in the most genuine tone you can muster. A thought crosses your mind, and that never ends in anything good, but regardless you proceed.

You grace Ace with a light kick to the back, and he turns around with a small frown on his lips. “Why am I your foot scrubber all of a sudden?”

“Ace, I’m bored,” you tell him. “I wanna bury you in the sand.”

He pushes your legs away from him to fry on the scorching sands, which makes you glare at him, and then he protests, “No way! Not if I bury you first.”

Your instinctual reaction is to sit up and try to put him in a chokehold, which leads him to mumble something about you being a raging sociopath under his breath, but he wrestles out of your hold without too much trouble. What ensues next is a series of swats and pushing at each other as well as incoherent screams about who’s going to be a ‘sandy loser.’ Many bystanders stare incredulously at your childish display.

At one point, Ace manages to get you to lie back down. Not restraining your wrists or anything is definitely an unwise move, but he manages to lose his balance somehow and he tumbles over you, finding his chest pressed against yours, faces dangerously close together. Again, he gets this sort of sheepish nervousness in this proximity, even though it’s not unusual for you to touch each other. Something about this is different though, with his lips almost ghosting over yours. A queasy feeling torments his stomach.

Everything stills, and Ace swallows dryly before he clenches his fists by your sides. Alright, this is the moment. He lowers his eyelids, mentally preparing himself to give you a quick peck, but you interrupt his plans of romance by rolling over and flipping your positions so you’re straddling him now.

The sand feels unbearably hot on his back. Whatever mood he was in before is surely ruined now and you let out an evil laugh of triumph before you pour some over his abdomen, too.

“Wait, ouch, it burns,” he pleads, but you ignore him and continue with your task of burying him. “Seriously, you’re vicious!”

“Shut up. I won.”

Ace pushes you off, but you slip away and bolt towards the water. When you throw a glance over your shoulder and realize he’s following you, you don’t make it past the shallows. After one step in, he backs away with exaggerated fright. “It’s cold.”

“It’s so hot this, it's so cold that,” you say, crossing your arms and shifting your weight to one hip. “You’re such a baby.” Then, unprovoked, you splash him by swiping your leg across the water and laugh to yourself as if it’s really funny.

Ace stands upright and shivers like a hideous wet animal as a result. Still, your douchebaggery is the only motivation he needs to resolve to waddle in and try to get revenge on you while you walk sideways like a crab in your attempt at avoiding him.

Noticing your refusal to go any deeper, Ace halts with a smile. “Aw, you don’t want me to drown,” he says.

“Come on, what do you think I am-”

He takes the opportunity to pull you forward by the arms into himself and you both fall down, with him on his ass and you on your knees, almost bumping your head into his nose before you adjust yourself. You deadpan,

“What, so now we’re gonna sit here and play like toddlers?”

As if this wasn’t what you were doing before, anyway.

“Well, it’s easier to do this now,” he says, splashing you in the face. A seaweed ends up on your forehead and Ace almost dies laughing while you spit out water and rub your eye.

“Remember what you said about me not wanting you to drown?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t care anymore!”

With this declaration, Ace can only dart out of the water in a panic and run back to the parasol before you really lunge and kill him.

___

When Ace sees he has a text from you, he makes the mistake of smiling. It must mean you’re planning some outing since that’s usually why you message him, but then he unlocks his phone and swipes to your contact, and his grin falls immediately, replaced by a look of puzzlement.

butt-head Do you take it up the ass

Beavis ??????????

butt-head Lol Sorry wrong chat

Beavis who tf are u texting that

butt-head Nunya

Beavis never heard of him

butt-head Nunya Business 😎😎😎😎

Beavis seriously doesn’t ring a bell

butt-head Dude

 Idiot do u know a guy named nunya business

sabo-kins You can’t be serious?

Idiot is he rich or something

sabo-kins ACE?????????

Idiot i mean his last name is business

___

You’re having the time of your life, surrounded by several friends on the island seat while you pre-game even though there isn’t even a game. In other words, you’re piss drunk and everyone’s laughing up a storm at your story. Thatch almost chokes on his own spit when you finish off with, “And then he told Sabo, ‘I mean, his last name is Business.’”

Ace, sitting to your left, narrows his eyes at you in suspicion over the lid of his glass. “So, what, you mean to tell me Nunya Business doesn’t-” and then before he can finish his sentence, once he hears himself aloud, he stops talking and blinks in amazement. “Wow, I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“Me neither,” you howl, slapping your knee even though it’s not that funny.

“C’mon, you’re an asshole,” he says, butting into your side, though at the cost of almost falling off his bar stool. Ace swings an arm over your shoulder and brings you closer while you squint your eyes at him like he’s blurry. He kind of is, from your point of view.

“That’s not what Nunya said last night.”

He barks out a fake laugh at that, then immediately turns serious, returning your squinting. “Stop. I won’t fall for it again.”

“Whateverrr,” you slur, throwing an arm around his waist, too.

“Like, I totally won’t.”

“Hahahaha,” you say, not really laughing, but the corners of your mouth quirk up regardless. Then you nudge him like he nudged you when you ordered pizza that one time. “What’s Nunya Business to you, anyway?”

“It’s really not funny. I thought you were cheatin’ on me,” he whines, resting his head on your shoulder.

You’re too far gone to question why he’s suddenly decided you’re dating, so you place your head on his. “I’d never do that! It was the good old wrong chat maneuver.”

“[Y/nnnnnnnnn]…”

“Aceeeeeeeeeee…”

“What’s wrong with them?” Marco mutters, downing another shot of whiskey, while Thatch shrugs as if to say ‘just the regular idiocy.’

“You know,” he starts, then he shoots upright, knocking you away from him, leaving you to rub your forehead. With more determination this time, he starts over and raises his index finger high in the air. “You know, I’d- I’d get a tattoo of your name.”

You’re sure he didn’t plan to say that and just made it up on the spot and you’re also pretty sure he doesn’t mean it. Still, you’ll entertain the notion as if he’s being genuine instead of drunken gibberish. “Hmm.” Then you poke him on the biceps before you start squeezing it, rubbing your chin while deep in thought. “I don’t want that, though. You couldn’t even spell yours right.”

“It’s not meant to be my name,” he says. “I told you like, a million times. After you called me Asce once in front of everyone, remember? And the lady taking our reservations thought my name was Asce…”

“Aceeeeeeeeeee…” you cry again.

“[Y/nnnnnnnn]…” Ace spreads his arms then, trying to hug you.

“‘m sorry.” You pucker your lips like in a cartoon, trying to land one big gross kiss to his forehead.

In a fit of narcolepsy, Ace’s eyes flutter shut and he falls over the counter while you suddenly hurl over his shoulder before you start coughing, gagging on your own vomit. In a way, his abrupt nap saved him since at least his face didn’t meet this fate. And, okay, maybe you both had too much to drink just this once.

Marco jams a thumb in your direction and sighs as if to say ‘See? Idiots.’

___

You wake up with a throbbing headache, though at least you find you’re in your bed, which means you made it home without getting run over or something. Your phone blares, apparently in need of your attention, and you lean over to retrieve it.

Beavis we need to talk about last night

Uh oh. Your memories of whatever transpired yesterday are vague at best, but you don’t recall a situation when someone said this to you after a night of drinking that ended up well. You try to mask your ignorance with a neutral reply.

butt-head What about it

Beavis i cant believe u let me think nunya was a real person for a week straight?!?!?!

Oh, wait, yeah. You were telling that story to Marco and Thatch at the bar. You send a voice message of your obnoxious laughter for a minute straight in response.

___

You can’t believe Luffy has your ass playing Hide and Seek right now.

Sabo and Ace are busy until tomorrow morning and apparently he doesn’t enjoy being left alone for so long, so Ace asked you to do him a ‘small’ favor and keep him company until tomorrow morning. You like Luffy well enough to accept, and now here you are.

Though you expected he would’ve busted your ass by now. A part of you wishes he would since your limbs are all growing numb the longer you hold this position. You can hear speaking from outside, though with your position it’s all too muffled to make out. Then footsteps near Ace’s room, where you’re hiding, and you think finally Luffy is going to find you.

The door opens then shuts again, which you find kind of odd, and then something outside rustles. Maybe Luffy is checking if you’re under the bed? You can imagine him doing so.

After a while of nothing, the closet door opens.

It’s not Luffy you come face-to-face with, but Ace. His eyes widen in surprise as do yours while you stare at each other.

“Uh,” he starts while you pretend you don’t notice that he’s almost naked.

“I can explain,” you say.

“Nah. Luffy told me you guys are playing.”

He backs away and you shuffle around until you make it out of the cramped space while Ace nonchalantly leans over to rummage for pajamas. Something crosses your mind then. “I thought you’re coming back tomorrow?”

“Oh, uh… My thing ended early,” he tells you, slipping a t-shirt over his head and adjusting it. He totally didn’t bail to see you since he knew you’d be here. That’d be stupid.

You seem to catch onto this, though, because you grin and lower your eyelids at him, looking smug. Inching closer with crossed arms, you ask, “Did it now?”

“Depends on what you’re gonna do about it,” he chances, deciding to play your game.

How you’re about to continue, he’s not sure, but you jostle when you feel a tap on your shoulder. “Found you,” Luffy says, unimpressed.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” You level him with your trademark glare.

“You’re not very good at this game,” he says.

“What? You were looking for me for forever!”

“Touchy about Hide and Seek, aren’t you?” Ace asks with a laugh, in slight disbelief of your immaturity.

“Shut up, no one’s talking to you, bedhead.”

“Bedhead?! You like my hair and you know it.”

“I mean,” Luffy continues as if you and Ace aren’t having another unnecessary argument, “you’re just standing here in plain sight.”

“I so wasn’t!” With finality, you turn towards Ace. “Anyway, now that you’re here, I guess I can go home, right?”

“I mean, you can stay, too.”

“Like I wanna sleep on the couch.”

“Wait,” he says, and he wants to offer for you to share the bed with him or something, but instead what comes out of his mouth at the last second is, “you didn’t drive Luffy anywhere, right?”

You stare at him like you find him stupid and incredulous. “No?”

“Okay ‘cause Sabo banned it.”

With a roll of your eyes, you step out of the room, and then you notice Ace is trailing after you. “What do you want?”

“Nothing, geez.”

“Ok, but Sabo is so dramatic. I’m very good at driving.”

Ace assesses you with a disbelieving look.

“Fuck you.”

“Have a safe drive home.”

“Seriously, I’m so serious right now, fuck you.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” Ace says, holding up your jacket for you so you can slide your arms inside. “But maybe you need it,” he adds when you’re on the brink of letting it go, sounding amused.

Instead of saying goodbye like a normal person, you hold up your hand and tell him to talk to it.

___

Your car pulls up into view and for the first time, Ace is grateful. The feeling doesn’t last for longer than fifteen seconds, though, because you roll down the window and announce, “Orgasmtron-3000 and I are in the house tonight.”

He sighs and walks over with reasonable embarrassment (even though there’s no one else around to witness this), opening the passenger seat door before he sits down next to you. He slams the door closed, you don’t start up the car, and instead you tap your hands against the steering wheel. Then you give the abandoned gas station a look-over. “How’d you end up here, anyway?”

“Got lost,” he mumbles.

“Verbose as usual, Ace.”

“Verbose,” he repeats in a snotty tone, failing to imitate your voice.

For the first time, you ignore this. He raises an eyebrow when you don’t take the opportunity to start some entirely avoidable fight, and instead you evaluate him for a little before you smile. With your eyebrows furrowed, though, you appear kind of sinister rather than playful.

“What?”

“Uh-huh, what?” you snarl, trying to sound like a caveman to imply he’s a dunce.

Now Ace is pouting at you since he’s not all that good at glaring, not like you are, and then you remember what it was you were trying to do, or maybe you just get the nerve now. You settle your hand on his exposed knee since he’s wearing one of his hideous pairs of shorts with designs on them and say,

“We’re alone right now.”

Like an idiot, he looks around and nods and ignores the goosebumps which break out at the unexpected contact. “Yeah, we are.”

“I wanna kiss you, ok?”His cheeks redden and burn and Ace stares at you like you gave him a jumpscare. He averts his line of sight and, “Then… Then what’s stopping you?”

You shrug. “Nothing now, I guess.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt to get the slightest bit closer to him and he kind of just waits for you to make a move, like he’s scared you’re going to change your mind if you detect even a twitch from him. With your free hand you trace his nape and he leans in, tilting his head until your lips meet half-way even though it’s not the most comfortable within the confines of your car.

Ace grabs you by the waist and tries to pull you closer. You comply, jumping into his lap, and you’re kind of aggressive and harsh with the way you move now like Ace had imagined you’d be whenever he’d think about this before. Your nerves are on fire as if you’ve been waiting to feel his silken lips and the tickle of his breath under your nose for too long. And you have.

You move on from his mouth to his jaw, peppering him with little kisses while he turns to give you one on the temple, tightening his hold against your waist. Then you lick down his neck, all his hairs standing alert. When you find a spot you think will be easy to hide, you suck on the skin near his collarbone and Ace lets out a sigh, surprised to feel so sensitive there.

After you part, you take a moment to hold each other’s gazes. He loosens his grip on you and breaks eye contact.

“I, ya know,” he says, an admission of some sort. Though maybe he doesn’t need to say anything, it feels good to acknowledge it for once even if it’s scary, even if he doesn’t know why exactly you wanted to smush faces with him. Or maybe he doesn’t need to say anything because you’ve always been kind of together, haven’t you?

Your eyes turn to crescents and you give him your malicious, toothy grin. “I ya know you too.”

Ace sulks, shoulders slumping at your remark. “You’re still a jerk, though.”

#one piece x reader #one piece imagine #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #one shot

[cherryyreddd]

register : p1

. ellabs on p2 , it’s just old men right now . don’t ship it don’t read it

%warnings ?> none . fluff I suppose , just these old idiots for how. the beginning will be the backstory of Joel miller and Jerry anderson , then I’ll dive into Abby and Ellie story. For now , it’s the two fathers 🦒 + 🦓. psss .. modern au.. completely forgot

♛ ↓

Abby Anderson, who’s nineteen and trying to survive her own life with her father, Jerry Anderson. At an age Jerry had to suck it up at 23 taking care of Abby by himself without his own wife, it was tough considering he is a father of one child.. he was glad he didn’t turn out like his father who had six children, <making him the youngest . But I won’t be diving into that for now.>

Jerry had now gotten his bachelor’s degree when Abby was just nine, they had move up to Wyoming for him to work at a hospital , Saint Mary Hospital Facility, but one day he ran into someone in his office bleeding out of his hand on his white milky tile floor in his room. Joel Miller , a carpenter who’s in business accompanied by his younger brother Tommy miller , those two have made a successful business so far. Joel and Jerry had shared laughters and a tad bit of drinks but still addressed one thing, their daughters. But one catch that always surprises the two; Joel had always been clumsy with his work, causing for him to have frequent visits to the hospital..even his own daughters scolds him

“*so what’s your story for this hell of a wound.” Dr anderson mumbled while kneeling down and working on the now open cut on Joel’s palm , “quite fucking ridiculous doc but if you ask so.” “you didn’t come here for me?” Jerry snorted and smiled with his wrinkles around his eyes , Joel gave a glare and the doctor laughed a bit “seriously though , what’s the explanation behind this one now.-“ Jerry huskily spoke while finally inserting a stitch into Joel’s palm, he had groaned but he chuckled “now don’t laugh. Knife fell off the counter , mind was racin’ so fast I had clients on the phone, I didn’t think anything but just grab it.”

Jerry snickered “and you caught it , with the blade facing your palm now huh.” Joel nodded to Jerry’s last sentence wincing at the pain and gritting his teeth “almost done mr miller ..” Jerry spoke softly while finally finishing his stitch and finally putting bandages around his hand “and there .. you are all set just don’t apply pressure to the wound for a good day or two and you’ll be fine” Jerry spoke while grabbing the clipboard behind him and Joel got off the bed in the middle of the office. Jerry had gotten up and walked over to his desk not so far , typing on his computer “uh , doctor ande-“ Joel was cut off by the man “jerry please .” he spoke while finally turning around to face Joel “Jerry . how much is the bill” Joel fumbled looking for his wallet, “on me .” Joel was stunned by Jerry’s sentence “‘sorry what?” Joel spoke “*please mr miller you are a regular at this point . don’t worry about the amount of times you cut yourself from your own job at home.” “Well thank you Doctor Anderson , will repay you. “he chuckled and finally gotten up to show Joel the exit “wait . can we ,” Joel spoke leaning on the entrance of the door of Jerry’s office “maybe , hang out instead of me visiting you here ?” The doctor had chuckled a bit and nodded “course.” And with that , Joel had finally got in his car with a fat smile on his face thanking Jesus for not getting handed the bill of the hospital that might’ve ate his ass entirely ..

*hi , please don’t hate on me about this fic . first time doing something like this, Joel and Jerry r friends .

. . old man yaoi?😔

tags .:

#Doctor Anderson #joel miller #abby anderson #ellie williams #later on #lol sorry #guys r they gay ? #Be honest please . #They do look like a good couple #lolzzz #jerry anderson

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Love Me Bitterly, Loathe Me Sweetly || Day Seventeen || Albert Wesker

A/n: it’s always a pleasure to write Wesker. Here is day 17: angry/hate sex.

Warning(s): Wesker being Wesker, angry/hate sex, gender neutral reader.

No Minors Allowed!!

It's been 11 years since the destruction of Raccoon City; 11 years since that traitor Wesker was killed.

You only wish you could have seen it - at the time you were with Rebecca and only after you heard about it. Nevertheless, he had deserved it. He had manipulated you; had made you think that he loved you, but he only loved the control he had over you. It took you years to recover.

And here you are, living without his memory. It's better this--

A noise in the kitchen wakes you. The faceless man in your dreams fades as you open your eyes. Rising with a grunt, you wander from your bedroom and into the living room; the kitchen is empty and quiet. Strange. You heard something, didn't you?

An object on the counter catches your attention. You don't remember leaving out a glass. And there's something stuffed in it. You wander over to it, picking it up. It's a piece of torn cloth, a patch.

Your eyes widen as you recognize the patch; it's the S.T.A.R.S. emblem. But who put this here?

"I see you haven't completely forgotten," a voice states.

You whip around and notice a person standing in your living room. Immediately you recognize him and your eyes widen in fear and disbelief.

"Wesker!? You can't be here... You're dead."

The man in question grins.

"I'm very much alive."

There's no way. Chris would have told you. What the fuck do you do?

An idea comes to mind and you pick up the glass, tossing it at him. You don't wait to see where it hits. Instead, you run for the bedroom door where your gun is hidden, but something darts past you and knocks you onto your back. You hit hard but what confuses you more is that Wesker is hovering over you. Did he--

"What are you?"

"A god," he answers merely.

Your eyes widen in fear. Something is different about him. He's more of a monster than ever.

Leaning down, he runs a gloved hand over your face, tracing your lips with a finger.

"What do you want?" You ask.

Wesker hums.

"We're due a reunion."

Turning you onto your stomach, he locks your hands behind your back and slides between your legs. With his other hand, he yanks down your bottoms, exposing your ass. Your eyes widen. Is he going to fuck you?

"W-wait!" You order.

Wesker hushes you.

"Be still."

The rattle of his belt reaches your ears and your suspicion is right. He plans to fuck you.

"That won't work," you mention with a snort. "Whatever we had is dead and you mean nothing to me, not even worth the--"

You gasp as his cock presses against your hole. Without time to prepare he thrusts into you, bottoming out. It hurts, but you tighten around him.

Wesker is not the gentle type.

Clutching your arms he pounds into you. Your cheek rests against the carpet as he does his best to entice you. Shivers spread across your body, but you ignore them; you want him, but you can't allow him to know.

There is no point in ignoring the fact you love him, but you also hate him for who he is.

A groan escapes your mouth. Fuck!

"Such a liar," Wesker points out.

"I... I hate you."

Tears leak down your face in annoyance. This feels so damn good, just like long ago. You groan as his hips snap forward, burying his cock into you.

Before long the pressure becomes too much and you come undone, arching your hips as you orgasm. You hear Wesker groan. His thrusts slow down as he fills you; the memory of him brings more tears to your eyes.

You feel so exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Wesker pulls out of you and leans down, blowing air into your ear; you shiver in protest.

"Never forget me."

He stands and walks away, and you are left with not only his memory but with his seed inside you.

#albert wesker #resident evil fanfiction #albert wesker x reader #gender neutral reader #resident evil kinktober 2022

[sappymix1]

freezing my ass off and writing girl dnf at the beach tap in 🫶

The sun was bright, and Dream squinted into it from where she sat leaning back on a beach towel, trying to pick out her girlfriend among the pricks of darkness against the ocean. 

It was mid-June and Dream had a song coming out within the week, but all she could think about was the way that the salty ocean breeze made George’s hair curl even more than usual and the way the sun drew out more of her sparse freckles and darkened her skin. It was silly, but Dream loved seeing the physical manifestation of George finally being in Florida, finally being with her. She loved knowing that George had been changed by knowing her in person, because she herself could feel all of the ways that she had too. 

Even if, Dream thought as she reached for the sunscreen for the third time that day, her own tan came in a bottle from the drugstore. 

She was in the middle of rubbing new sunscreen on her arms where her skin — under all the freckles that had come from a lot of time outside with George, anyway — was starting to turn a little pink when George finally came back. 

“Look,” she said, pressing an object into Dream’s free hand. “It’s blue and green. Dnf.” 

Dream uncurled her fingers, revealing a piece of smooth sea glass, turquoise-y blue with a deep green along the sanded edge. “Pretty,” she said, turning the solid weight over in her hand. It was a big piece, the type she and her siblings would have cherished growing up, and she reached for the orange flowery tote bag she’d brought with them to carry towels and sunscreen and bottles of water because George never drank enough if Dream wasn’t on her ass about it. “Look, I can tuck it into the pocket and keep it safe.” 

George looked delighted, and Dream’s heart warmed to match the lick of waves against the shore at the idea that it was her home that was making George smile like that. Her dark eyes skirted away from the sea glass, however, to what Dream was doing. “Are you putting on sunscreen?” she asked, the again going unspoken. “Let me help.” 

Dream passed George the sunscreen and even though George always complained about it feeling gross and getting in her eyes and leaving white streaks everywhere, she squirted some onto her hand as she knelt down next to her and immediately brushed Dream’s hair out of the way — she had it in a scrunchie but it had long since slid out of place — to rub it into her shoulders. It was freezing and when Dream shivered, she didn’t even have to turn around to know the way George was grinning. Still. They were both quiet as George’s finger tips found Dream’s shoulder blades, the dip of her lower back, the soft curve of her hips. 

“I like your bathing suit.” George’s voice was on the quiet side, nearly overwhelmed by the crash of the ocean and intermittent shout of seagulls. 

Dream snorted. “You would.” 

For some reason, that changed things. Instead of gently rubbing sunscreen into her shoulders, George’s hand was sliding up her side, coming to press against Dream’s soft stomach. “I like being able to feel your skin,” George said, moving delicately to gain easy access to the front of Dream’s body. Her hand stayed splashed across Dream’s stomach as she leaned up to find her lips, drifting down just enough for the tip of her pinky finger to brush against where the waistband of Dream’s flowery swim skirt pressed into her skin. Dream was burning, and not from the sun. 

George wasn’t into the whole bikini top thing that Dream was. She liked loose swim shorts and an even looser swim shirt, most of her skin covered. Still, when Dream’s hand grabbed her waist, just the feeling of her body under all the excess fabric was enough to make Dream’s stomach clench and to make her mouth go dry as George’s chapped lips brushed again and again against her own. 

“We should go to the beach more often,” Dream whispered, hand sliding under George’s shirt, and she felt her smile against her mouth. 

#yeah #wlw dnf #sappy.ao3

[kjack89]

hey whats up

For @themiserablesmonth Day 22: Greeting.

Modern AU, developing E/R.

Read on AO3.

The all-too-familiar notification noise sounded from Grantaire’s phone, and he heaved a sigh before rolling over on the couch to grab it. He was ninety percent sure he could feel himself losing brain cells as he scrolled through the unfortunate sea of nearly identical Grindr messages:

Hey what’s up

hey whats up

Hey, what’s up?

Well, at least that last one understood basic grammar. 

He decided it was as good an option as any and clicked on the chat to send back an equally inane: Not much, you?

With that herculean effort completed, he tossed his phone down and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He knew was Joly and Bossuet would say if they could see him. They’d tell him he was wallowing, and yeah, maybe he was, and sure, maybe his ex had been a massive douchebag, but at least he’d meant that Grantaire didn’t have to debase himself on Grindr.

“That’s not exactly a compelling reason to stay with someone,” Joly had pointed out once.

“Maybe not,” Grantaire had said. “But not all of us meet our soulmate at the age of 21, and you truly have no concept of how miserable hooking up and dating is these days.”

Of course, Grantaire reflected, still staring up at the ceiling, maybe miserable was the wrong word. Too strong a sentiment for the dull monotony of the – hey what’s up, not much you, looking for, top or bottom, dick pic, ass pic – exchanges that seemed to dominate the online dating world.

Banal was probably more accurate.

The Grindr noise sounded again and Grantaire sighed, reaching over to his phone to reply to whatever Mr. Correct Grammar had sent back.

Instead, he found a brand new message from user Revolution1832: Hey, have you made a plan to vote?

Despite himself, Grantaire was intrigued, and even more despite himself, he couldn’t quite stop the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth, a smile that only grew when he clicked on the guy’s profile and saw how hot he was.

He settled back against the couch as he typed out his response. I am fascinated to know what your response rate is.

He didn’t expect much of a response, if any, which is why he was shocked when the guy messaged back almost immediately. Honestly, better than when I officially text bank.

Grantaire snorted. Ok but I bet if you started off your official campaign texts with thirst traps of yourself you’d also get a better response rate

Again, he didn’t have to wait long for a response. Touché

Grantaire sat up a little straighter as he asked, Also does it count as a response if someone just sends you a dick pic?

Probably not, the guy messaged in reply, but I do count the one pic I got where a guy sent me a dick pic but he’d stuck his ‘I Voted’ sticker on it

Grantaire choked on air. Like the sticker on a banana?

Pretty much exactly like that, yeah.

Grantaire laughed out loud, shaking his head with something like wonder. Incredible.

This time, the pause between messages was slightly longer, just long enough for Grantaire to worry that it was the end of the conversation. But then Revolution1832 replied, Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you didn’t answer my original question.

Grantaire smirked. Sorry, I’m distracted by the banana dick image still, he demurred. What was the question?

Have you made a plan to vote?

Frankly, Grantaire had little intention of actually answering the question, which meant he needed to come up with a foolproof way to drive this guy absolutely crazy.

It was the only way he knew how to flirt.

The idea came to him in an instant, and he quickly typed, Oh is there some kind of election coming up?

…kindly tell me that’s a joke.

Grantaire was tempted to keep the ruse going, but decided to go for a bit of blunt honesty instead. How about you tell the DNC, DCCC, DSC and whoever the fuck else to stop emailing me 26 times an hour

Democracy is on the line, the guy replied after a moment, and Grantaire rolled his eyes.

Yeah and five bucks from me is not going to be what saves it.

Well, not that with that attitude.

Despite himself, Grantaire again laughed, his reply half written before he even realized that he hadn’t thought about the banality of Grindr once since this conversation started. I will pay you the five bucks if you can tell me with a straight face that the ‘average donation’ of $27 is going to save Beto O’Rourke from once again losing in Texas.

He only had the pictures the guy had posted to go off of, and he was smiling in all of them, but Grantaire could still imagine the way he scowled when he replied, Hey, it’s not like I’m the one personally sending you all these emails.

No you’re just harassing me in my safe space, Grantaire shot back.

Which was a stupid thing to say, and he supposed he deserved the derision-laden, Grindr is your safe space?

He rolled his eyes, a smile tugging again on the corners of his mouth. …ok, fair point. Have you noticed that dating has gotten progressively more terrible the older we get?

If the guy noticed his change of topics, he didn’t remark on it. No, but to be honest that’s because I don’t do a whole lot of dating.

That was an intriguing answer to encounter on a dating, or more accurately, hookup app, and Grantaire frowned slightly as he messaged back, Are you a hit it and quit it kind of guy?

My best friend Courfeyrac would land in the hospital with a busted gut if he saw the phrase ‘hit it and quit it’ used in relation to me, the guy replied. No, I just work a lot.

Is this considered work? Grantaire asked, even though he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know the answer, given its potential impact on…well, whatever this was besides the best conversation he had ever had on Grindr.

The broader attempt at getting people to vote? the guy hedged. Technically. This conversation, though? Not so much.

Grantaire grinned. I’d apologize for distracting you from your work, but…

But you’re not actually sorry, the guy finished, and Grantaire’s grin widened. How well he already knew him.

Not even remotely.

Speaking of work, the guy continued, Are you ever going to answer my question?

Grantaire’s grin faded. No.

Why not?

There were a lot of very sensible things Grantaire could message in response to that, many reasons that were at least half-true, including but not limited to a very vocal refusal to believe in any political causes, but he found that for once, he didn’t want to obfuscate or lean on sarcasm. Which was an absolutely insane thing to think about a conversation he was having with a random guy on Grindr who he had never met and almost certainly never would, but Grantaire was fairly comfortable considering himself insane for much lesser things. Because then you might stop messaging me, and this is the fun I’ve had in longer than I care to admit.

The pause between messages probably only lasted thirty seconds or so, but to Grantaire, it felt like a lifetime. Then, finally: What makes you think I’m going to stop messaging you?

Well, that hadn’t been what he expected. The hundreds of other gay idiots you need to convince to vote? he supplied Not to mention you’re probably not even from here. You probably just changed your location settings to a battleground state, which is fine, I respect the hustle, but it does mean that this isn’t exactly going anywhere

Again, a pause that felt painfully long until the guy replied, You’re half-right, at least. I’m not from here. But I didn’t change my location settings. I’m out here working on the senate race

Grantaire made a face. So this may go somewhere, but only for the next two weeks?

Not necessarily, the guy replied. I don’t have anything lined up past November, and my lease runs through the end of the year. And it’s not like this state is going to be less of a battleground moving forward.

Grantaire snorted. You know most people flee from this state, not voluntarily move here and then decide to stay.

I haven’t decided to stay yet, the guy pointed out, and there was another pause before he added, You could give me a reason to, though.

Grantaire stared at his phone, his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. A reason to stay?

Yeah.

Like what?

As soon as he sent it, he knew what the answer was going to be, and he preemptively rolled his eyes before even reading the message: Like telling me your vote plan.

Your commitment to the message is honestly admirable.

I’ll pass that along to my comms team, they’ll be thrilled, the guy replied, and Grantaire could almost imagine how dry his voice sounded. But seriously, if I promise not to stop messaging you, will you tell me your vote plan?

Grantaire considered it for a moment. Sure.

Ok, so…

I don’t have one

Grantaire could imagine that at this moment, the guy was in the process of tearing half of his very pretty blond hair out. Why not?

He was so tempted to again keep the ruse going, but just like before, something got the better of him. In this case, a strange desire to put him out of his misery. Because I already voted.

Thank God. I don’t think I would’ve been able to hold up my promise not to stop messaging you otherwise.

Grantaire grinned. Yeah but I didn’t think to take a picture of my dick with my ‘I Voted’ sticker.

You know, the guy replied, I have a friend who works for the county board of elections.

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. Hell of a segue.

My point is that I can probably wrangle up some more ‘I Voted’ stickers. Grantaire again choked on absolutely nothing. If you’re interested, anyway.

…are you really using the idea of me putting an ‘I Voted’ sticker on my dick as some kind of come on?

That depends.

Grantaire’s brow furrowed. On what?

Is it working?

A slow grin stretched across Grantaire’s face, and he decided it was long past time to throw all caution to the wind. Do you want to meet up for a drink?

He held his breath until the next message came in. Tonight I can’t. I have a 6am start tomorrow. The candidate’s doing a press pop on the local morning news.

Grantaire refused to be deterred. What about tomorrow night? You bring the ‘I Voted’ sticker, I’ll bring, well…

Deal.

Grantaire let out the breath he’d been holding in a woosh. I’m Grantaire, by the way.

Enjolras. And I’m really looking forward to meeting you.

Yeah, Grantaire replied, his grin softening. So am I.

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #fanfiction #les miserables #modern AU #texting #grindr #developing relationship #the miserables month 2022

[bakidose]

— TOKYO REV ## RANDOM HCS

alternate title: tr men and random headcanons i have abt some of them

characters included: ran haitani / sanzu haruchiyo / hanma shuji / manjiro sano / baji keisuke / takemichi hanagaki

warnings: a bit suggestive / mostly sfw tho / crack cocaine for sanzu / humour / gn! reader / ooc maybe?? idk thats up to u to decide lol

a/n: these were the only characters i could think of hcs for off the top of my head shhh. n e ways weewoo my first official contribution to the tr fandom, enjoy :p

% SHUJI HANMA %

he's the type to fake bang you.

doesn't matter where you are, who you're with or what you're doing– the moment he sees you bent down, hes getting all up behind you and thrusting full force 💀

you've had to start kneeling and squatting down to reach for things instead after one incident. living in fear everyday that hanma may one day pull a bluff on your poor, vulnerable ass right in front of your friends and family 😟

"shuji PLEASE im trying to take this dish out of the oven"

"hm? sorry~. i cant help myself when you're all bent down like that just for me ♡ "

you burned your fingers and almost dropped your lasagna all over the floor

all he did in apology was pat your ass and said "it looks good babe 😘"

you still dont know whether he was talking about your ass– or the lasagna

probably both.

% RAN HAITANI %

he makes deez nuts jokes along with his brother rindou LMAO

thinks they're sooo fuckin funny. oh? your legs are broken? lol deez nuts are next 🤣

and whats worse is that rin backs him up too with a shit eating grin, both giggling like lil kids who just made a joke about poo

has never actually fallen for it whenever someone tries though

and even if it were to happen, you wouldnt know.

given the way he just stands there like 🕺 right after he finishes you off with his baton for humiliating him like that in broad daylight

rin: "🙄 cant believe you fell"

ran: "i didnt fa-"

rin: "for deez nuts."

ran: 😃

not only did he fall for deez nuts twice on that day, but he smacked a hoe with his baton twice too

hurt his ego knowing rindou pulled it on him without missing a beat

if you ever asked, it never happened <3

% SANZU %

ACTUALLY served crack before he served his country.

has definitely snorted cocaine off your ass crack to make things more exciting

though one time, you caught him snorting sugar off the kitchen counter. having temporarily taken away his coke stash after he kept waking up next to you high as hell

a credit card, 10,000¥ bill and nose all lined up to take another hit

"what are you doing?? you know you cant-"

"its not."

"huh? the hell you mean its 'not' 🤨"

"its sugar, princess. here~ try it"

"no thanks-"

told you to shut up as he scooped some up with his finger n stuck them in your mouth anyway

it was sugar.

he was snorting glucose up his nostrils.

"WHAT THE FUCK 😃."

you still think he mightve done it just to spite you since youre so worried about his health

you gave him back his shit after that

so it was either him high off the rocks or...yeah <3 he was definitely in a silly goofy mood that day

manz is actually deranged 🚹 middle child behavior if ive ever seen it

% BAJI KEISUKE %

never make a 'your mom' joke at this guy.

ever.

the first n last time some sleezy highschool kid tried to do it to a pre-k baji, they limped outta there the next day looking like they got mauled by several street cats

just never- dont. dont even utter a word about his mom unless youve been feeling alive'nt recently

you can talk smack about baji but never about his momma :<

ranted to peke j about it that night as he was falling asleep

"and i pummeled that asshole! right in his ugly ass mug 😤"

peke j: mrow

"no one!... can talk shit about my mom like that...*snores*"

peke j: mrow

% MIKEY %

still orders the McDonald's happy meal even as an adult

does NOT eat the apple slices :<

he's also another person who enjoys pulling deez nuts jokes on unsuspecting victims...or at least used to ://

*is busy munching on dorayaki*

"hey you know suna?"

"whos that? 😐"

"suna or later deez nuts gonna be in ya' mouth"

k.o'ed on sight. absolutely hates deez nuts jokes now after he fell for one.

draken laughs everytime he recalls it, and mikey refuses to answer any random questions since then

% TAKEMICHI HANAGAKI %

asked chifuyu one time after he did the devils tango with hina on their wedding night

if it was gay to think of another man during it.

"hey so i was wondering... is it gay to think of mikey while i was having sex with hina?"

?????

"huhhh 😕 takemitchy, man i– i mean..bros before hoes right? 😄"

"yeah!! youre right!"

both sat there in silence after

then hakkai walked in, holding his phone that still had mitsuya's now updated side profile picture as his lockscreen

takemichi cried that night 👍🏼

taglist: @katsukichu

© bakidose 2021 — all rights reserved. do not modify, claim, distribute, or steal my work.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers fluff #shuji hanma x reader #shuji hanma x you #shuji hanma x y/n #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x you #ran haitani x y/n #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x you #sanzu haruchiyo x y/n #baji keisuke x reader #baji keisuke x you #baji keisuke x y/n #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano x you #manjiro sano x y/n #takemichi hanagaki x reader #takemichi hanagaki x you #takemichi hanagaki x y/n #i hate writing tags so much.

[kiridarling]

"𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒."

izuku midoriya | friends older brother!izuku + college student!reader + f!reader + squirting + size kink + more! minors dni! does this count? as dark content?

— 2.4k words

"It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

“[Y/N?]”

“Uh, hey Izuku!” You smile, grip tightening around the strap to your bag. Izuku fills the doorway, broad shoulders kissing both sides of the frame, and you can’t help but feel minuscule in comparison. “Kota around?”

Izuku shakes his head, peering over his shoulder for a second before returning his attention to you with a click of his tongue. "Uh, no I think he's out with Eri. They should be back soon though...it's been a few hours."

"Shit," you curse under your breath. Your friend's older brother smiles in apology, biceps straining under his white tee.

"You need something?"

"Yeah," you nod, forcing your eyes back onto his, instead of the broad chest presented at eye-level. "Just my precalc book."

Izuku waits a second, thinking, before his palm claps against the doorframe and he's walking deeper into the house. "Come on in, then! I'm sure he won't mind."

You step into the house after him, and it's...weird. Weird being with your Kota's older brother without Kota there, because despite the thousands of times you've been in your best friend's house and as well as you know the greenette, you and Izuku have never been alone.

"Find it?"

You've been rummaging through Kota's room for a solid ten minutes and somehow still empty-handed, moving slowly in fear you'll see something you can't unsee. And hey, with Kota and Eri dating, anything's possible.

"No," you sigh, ready to give up rather than find a strap-on. "It's fine. I can just come to get it tomorrow or something."

"How soon do you need it?" The greenette asks, his forearms leaning against his younger brother's dresser. You take a seat on Kota's comforter instead, silently hoping you'll find your book by accidentally breaking your tailbone against the damn thing; you're a little disappointed when all your ass comes in contact with is a plush mattress.

"Like, tonight," you grieve, knowing that tomorrow morning, your math grade will suffer severely. "'S fine though. There's always another test."

Izuku snorts at that, crossing the room to take a seat next to you. The bed whines under his weight but doesn't collapse, and you feel a little bad to say you're surprised. Voice full of reminiscence, he sighs, "Ah, the college days."

You giggle, "You act like they're lightyears behind you."

"They might as well be," the greenette shrugs, before reaching behind your waist to steal a pillow. "Couldn't tell you a thing I learned."

You shrug trying to remember the last time you’ve felt prepared for a test, “Neither can I.”

Izuku chuckles and nods, though you’re convinced it’s because he has nothing to say. An awkward silence takes possession of the room by the neck, and you shift awkwardly, unsure of what to say that could give you an excuse to leave, or at least redirect his strange yet heavy gaze. As Izuku licks his lips, you notice how close you two actually are, as he's big to the point where your shoulders almost brush, but not quite.

"How um, hows your boyfriend?"

You scoff at that, but you suppose it's been a while since you and the greenette have talked one on one—and the last time you had, you weren't single.

"Oh uh, he's fine, I guess," you brush it off with a shrug and a wave, cringing at the thought of how that ended. "I don't know. We broke up a while ago, so."

"Oh sorry!" Izuku flushes and throws a hand over his mouth, and you giggle.

"You're fine. He was an asshole anyway," you chuck a laugh, but it's not really that funny. Frankly, he's left too many emotional scars to count, along with the ones healing from past exes. "I...don't have a good reputation when it comes to picking boyfriends."

“So, I’ve heard—no offense,” he says sheepishly, though you don't blame him. You've definitely had a few surprise visits caused by a nasty break-up or two, knowing this is the place you'll probably find both of your best friends hiding out. When Izuku speaks again, it’s borderline awkward as his eyes dart around the room, cheeks puffed and lips pursed in apprehension. “Found...anyone new?”

You frown, “Anyone new.”

“Yeah!” Izuku exclaims, and it’s almost encouraging. “Like a new boyfriend.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Um, no. Like I said, I don’t have much luck with that type of stuff.”

Izuku snorts, rolling his eyes before he’s adjusting himself to lay on the pillow, half of his body upright. “I bet you do. You might not realize it, but you do.”

Now it’s your turn to snort and roll your eyes, leaning back on your hands with a huff. "You're just being nice, Izuku."

"No, seriously!" He props himself higher so you can see he really is serious, evergreen eyes locked and deadset, "Like—okay, and this might be a TMI or something, but how do they, y'know, and then be dicks, y'know?"

"They don't."

"They don't...what?"

"They don't...make me cum," you heave with great depression, despite the seemingly surface-level complaint. With wrists tightening around your ankles, you hate uncomfortably in the silence, and watch Izuku's mouth open and close, before it opens and closes again.

"Like...never?"

"No." You give him a weird look.

"But what about your last boyfriend? I thought he—"

"I don't know what you're looking for, Izuku," you chuckle, shaking your head. The greenette seems more pained than he is shocked, eyes wide with a big fat pout in place of a neutral face. "It's not like I haven't had an orgasm before. Just...not with someone else."

"That's not the same!" Izuku defends, slowly becoming more animated than you've ever seen him. "It's like...more passionate with another person, you know? And that makes everything a whole lot hotter."

"Thanks," you huff, mood souring more than it already has. Izuku's mouth stills once he realizes what he's essentially bragging, guilt clouding his face. As you exhale out of your nose, you can't escape feeling bad for snapping. "Look. I'm perfectly fine with being the only person to be able to make myself cum. It's not that deep."

"You sound like you expect no one to be able to," Izuku snorts with a raised eyebrow, shoulders bumping against yours. "You've just...had bad boyfriend luck. That doesn't mean no one's capable of doing it."

"Well," you click your tongue bitterly, because you've heard all of this before, and you're utterly tired of hearing it. "They've been able to make all their exes orgasm. And it's not like it even matters, relationships aren't abou—"

"I could do it."

"I—" you blink, shaking your head at the pure audacity of his request? Suggestion? Comment? Whatever the fuck. "Excuse me?"

"I—wait, listen," Izuku rushes like you're getting ready to book it the fuck out of there, sitting upright so his body is turned to yours. "You're...it's...I've been told I'm good with my fingers, right?"

And what a way to start a story.

"Izuku, in the nicest way, every guy is like this," you scoff, "He thinks he's all that just because a chick or two said you made her feel really good. I don't need to fake another orgasm."

"You won't have to," Izuku purrs cockily, leaning forwards on his hands and making you wonder where all of this is coming from. "Let's play a game of simon says, yeah?"

"Simon—" your chest collapses with a giggle of pure disbelief, "I'm not that much younger than you, you know."

"I wouldn't be offering if you were," the greenette reasons, eyes growing dark slowly, if any. "Yes or no?"

"What's the catch?" You bargain and Izuku huffs a laugh. You can feel it on your face.

"No catch, Pretty," he hums, and you can feel the vibrations in your fingers. "It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

You gulp as Izuku lifts a hand—and a very large one, at that—and it's jagged and rough with scars and bulky knuckles. His free hand makes you grab his wrist and you're fingertips barely touch, but you’re pulling his hand south by your own volition.

“Gotta take your pants off first,” he chuckles, and you flush red. That would be helpful, yes.

It doesn't take long before they're off though, flung towards a corner somewhere—and this is when you realize that maybe, you shouldn't do this on Kota's bed.

"Izuku maybe we shoul—"

But before you can say anything else, he's pushing your panties to the side and shoving both fingers into you at once, eyebrows folding as he groans under his breath from the sensation.

"So wet already? Clearly, someone likes this more than they let on."

"I—what the fuck happened to simon says!" You yelp, but his fingers don't move. Izuku just beams like the deceptive asshole he is.

"Game starts now," is all he says, and you're huffing, propping yourself up on your elbows. Izuku's fingers might as well have knocked the wind out of you, lungs struggling to find room to breathe as he curls his fingers to tap directly onto your g-spot with worrying precision.

"Simon says um, move please," you grunt out. Izuku's fingers stay still, and you frown, kicking him in the thigh. "Hey, I sai—"

"You gotta be more specific than that, Pretty,” he says with a grin. You snarl. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

"I..." you start, but it's fucking embarrassing, and you know Izuku feels you twitch around him when you say: "Can you um, fuck me with your fingers."

He doesn't move.

"Simon says fuck me with your fingers, asshole," you grunt with narrowed eyes, though they widen when he starts to pump his fingers in and out, chuckling when you shiver from the dexterity.

Except, his fingers move painfully slow, and you find yourself gritting your teeth at the speed when he doesn't make an effort to go any faster. You click your tongue—he's really going to make you request everything, isn't he?

"Simon says faster," you growl with a challenge burning in your eyes, and Izuku meets them with equal fire, fingers finally forgetting their torturous pace for a much quicker one. Finally.

"Fuck! Simo—simon says right t-there," your legs spread wider and Izuku makes more room for himself in between. He hums with dark eyes as you whimper and whine his name, writhing in his younger brother's sheets like they belong to him—like you belong to him.

"I wanna touch you all the time, you know," Izuku grunts before cursing at the sight of your wetness around his fingers. "Make you feel good, make you mine. I don't think Kota would approve, though."

"We don—" you wheeze and he places a hand next to your head, towering over you. The angle only gets better, your hands digging into the sheets as Izuku's fingers curl just right. "We don't have to tell him."

Izuku chuckles at that, chest rumbling as he leans in closer to the point where your noses nearly touch. "You dirty fucking girl."

You moan at that, hips bucking into his hand. You're so close and yet you need more, something else to push you over the edge for good. With a whimper behind a bitten lip, you say, "S-Simon says rub my clit."

Izuku's thumb falls upon your clit and you squeal from the amount of initial pressure, thighs jolting from the white-hot waves that pump through your bloodstream as his thumb moves in small, ever-quickening circles that have you gripping for Kota's comforter for dear life.

"Iz—Izuku I'm gonna—g-gonna cum," you pant, and he's ripping his hands away before you can even reach a hint of the edge. You glare at him out of pure and utter betrayal, and he beams.

"Simon didn't say, did he?"

Your mouth flies open before your brain has time to process it all, "Simon says make me cum, p-please, I need to—fuck!"

Izuku's stuffing you full with his fingers in an instant and his thumb returns to its rightful place.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, Pretty?" His hands somehow find the energy to speed up to the point where the clap of his palm against your pussy fills the room, slowly being replaced by a lewd squelch as you tighten around him. He chuckles when all you can do is whimper, grappling for his big shoulders as he says, "Oh, yes she is. So fucking close I can feel it."

You let out a broken moan and in a blink you're squirting, body buzzing as you make a big wet mess of Kota's sheets. It doesn't even register how screwed you two are because you're too busy wading waist-deep in the sea of Izuku's eyes, chest heaving in time with his as he gives you a look of pure awe. Not at what you've done, per se, but at you, and that's when you understand it—the passion.

"We should uh, probably clean up," Izuku flushes as he chuckles, cheeks pressing into the crescents of his face, and you find yourself smiling along with him. With a final click, he pulls his fingers out, gesturing to a circular wet spot on his now see-through shirt. "You made quite a mess."

Fuck the passion.

You shove your fists into his chest and Izuku laughs, pushing your hands away with his one dry free hand, wiping the wet one on Kota's sheets.

"Izuku!" You gasp, looking at the new and improved addition to your mess. The greenette shrugs.

"What? We're going to have to clean it anyway," he shrugs before assuming the dry spot to your right and nestling his forearms in the pillow to peck you on the forehead. Then he freezes.

"I uh...am I allowed to do that?"

You roll your eyes, grabbing him by his squirt-soaked shirt to pull him into a kiss. Izuku hums at that, suppressing the urge to smile as his big hands find their way to your waist. He's an annoyingly good kisser

"No, you're not," you say with swollen lips once you pull away. Izuku grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his eyes flutter to yours for a moment, before they're staring into your soul again.

"I like you," he boldly states, albeit quietly, like he's talking to your eyes and nothing else. "Like, a lot."

"I—" You start, but you're interrupted by a click of a lock and the sound of the front door opening. Shit.

"Oi! We're home, Izuku!"

#— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #deku smut #izuku smut #midoriya smut #bnha smut #bnha imagines