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#i used to draw and make paper toys
aliengirl · 3 months
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really wanting to make things with my hands..... been experiencing a art block too so maybe i will jump in my impulsive hobbies again and buy clay
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dragonanon · 15 days
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If you told me a year ago that I would get into makeup and then obsess over it to the point where I legit document in the notes app on my phone, the different color and product combinations I’ve used along with which clothes they look the best with, I would’ve asked if you were high. 🙃😅
#and now here i am…furiously typing away in my notes app about different makeup combinations and which scrubs they look the best with#this is primarily because my dumbass can never fully remember what colors/products i used to achieve a certain look#so i’m writing this shit down now so it’s easier to choose which makeup to use for the day#what i’ve discovered since getting into makeup is i like to use colorful make just as much as i like to wear colorful scrubs#and what’s more is i ALSO like coordinating my makeup colors to MATCH my scrubs#so if i’m wearing blue scrubs i want to use blue eyeshadow and blue lipstick so it all matches#i think part of why i’ve been enjoying this so much is that coordinating the colors like this makes it all feel like art#it’s like i’m drawing and coloring but instead of my tablet or a piece of paper i’m doing it on my face#makeup really IS an art form and i can’t believe it’s taken me this long to fully realize it and how much fun it can actually be#not me rocking up to work in bright sparkly green eyeshadow and light blue lipstick to match me Toy Story pizza alien scrubs#thankfully no one has given me any crap for my choice of makeup colors so far#and i would like to think that it’s because i really try to match all the colors i use with my scrubs#so it at least all looks good together#but more than likely it’s because i’m not hurting anyone by doing this and my face is still recognizable#it’s not like i’m over here painting my face to look like pennywise or some shit#the most ‘extreme’ thing about my makeup is just the colors#i’m not doing any crazy designs or anything#just using colors you probably wouldn’t wear on a day to day basis#such as bright green eyeshadow and light blue lipstick#the way i see it is if i’m allowed to wear colorful scrubs and it’s not an issue then why would colorful makeup be an issue?#tomorrow i’m going to wear blue-purple eyeshadow and purple lipstick with my dark blue scrubs#because i think it will look neat#will update on how it turns out
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jyoongim · 2 months
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Hiii
Alastor X human!reader where she is desperate to make a deal for fame and glory.
She tries to summon a demon, accidentally conjuring Alastor. Beside her feisty facade she’s quite innocent and naive. He’s intrigued by her and toys with her, like a prey,tricking her into him, she signs the deal. He’ll come back after 1yr to collect his pretty little prize…her body and soul. 🌶️🔥
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Title: A Price to Pay
part 2
You frowned at the check your boss had handed you.
Too little. You looked at your boss, a nervous smile on your lips as a laugh bubbled out of your throat ”haha this is half of what i should be getting. That’s funny, where's the rest? Am i getting that in cash or some?” Your boss laughed “HA! No thats what you’re getting for the week‘
Your eyes damn near popped out of your head.
 For the week?
This was your pay for the entire week?
Oh hell no!
You poked a finger into the mans chest “What?! The whole week? I’ve been singing my ass off in this shit hole for two weeks! Where are my commissions?” You were angry! 
He gave a low laugh as he pulled out a cigar ”You think just because you’re my best in this joint that I wasn’t gonna get the Final Cut? You better take it before i hand your ass nothing”
You sniffled as you wiped at your runny nose.
The yellow paper with EVICTION stared at you as you felt another wave of tear hit you.
Why? 
Why couldn’t you just make enough to stay afloat?
Why did you have to suffer?
Why didn’t fate grant you mercy?
You had been busting your ass for months trying to make enough money to just pay the damn pills.
You were the best singer on your side of town and that shit hole needed a singer almost every night and when big shots went there. The money wasn’t terrible, it beat standing out on the pier at night, waiting to be taken to gods know where.
You laughed dryly, you would gladly get pimped out if it meant that you could still afford food to eat.
Why was life so cruel?
You had worked so hard and it felt like it was all for nothing.
You could hear your momma in your head
”You wanna dream big? Then never let life beat you down. Take it by the balls and make your dream a reality”
The next thing you know, you found yourself pulling out your mother’s old grimoire and drawing symbols on your bedroom floor.
what the hell were you doing?
You used to scoff at your mother when she did spells. 
Because magic wasn’t real…right?
But it felt like you had no other option as you threw some herbs into the small fire pot.
Momma used to tell you about all types of things that were possible with a little magic. That you always had friends on the other side who could help if you knew what you doing.
And you indeed had no fucking clue.
But you were tired, angry, and desperate and wanted to do something about it.
This was your life!
You felt your body tingle as you chanted the incantation.
The room turned cold and the fire from the candles blew out. The building started to shake as you spoke the last verse and suddenly you were thrown back from an explosion in the middle of your pentagram.
You watched in terror as the floor glowed red and rising from the smoke was a very large demon.
You panicked as it began to stand, gulping at its full height.
Oh what did you just do?
—————————————————
Alastor blinked as he stood. Fanning the smoke away from his face, he grimaced once he saw the pentagram, candles, and herbs. Who dared? His ears perked at the sound of heavy breathing. He turned his head and red eyes caught sight of a mortal woman standing against the wall, eyes wide.
He took a step towards her, head tilting as she cowered away. He huffed as he got to the edge of the protection boundary. He gave her a smile, sharp teeth glistening with narrowed eyes 
“Hello my dear”
——————————————————————
You took in the tall demon that stood in your bedroom.
He was dressed like one of those fancy gents.
Red and black tailored suit with a cane.
You watched as he curled his lip when he saw your protection boundary. You felt your body freeze as his eyes met yours.
Red.
Glowing red. 
He was rather handsome looking for a demon. 
He reminded you of-
“Deer” you squeaked, causing Alastor to tilt his head, ears flicking.
oh come on! You can’t be scared of something that you’re in control of!
”Hello my dear” you heard him say. He stood on the cusp of the salt boundary giving you his full attention.
That smile of his was very uncanny.
You shivered.
You found your nerves and puffed your chest out
”Hello demon-sir”
”Alastor” you blinked at him “w-what?”
He never lost that smile “The names Alastor. Pleasure to meet you” you were at a lost for words.  Alastor took your silence to look around, your spellbook caught in his attention before he took you in.
You cleared your throat “I summoned-” “conjured” “You to um make a deal?” You said uncertain
Alastor smirked “oh reallly? And what makes you think Ill make a deal with a human like you?”
You frowned ”You don’t have a choice! I summoned YOU here you have to do what I ask!’
He laughed darkly “Oh my dear that isn’t how things work” he looked back at the salt ”lets chat”
You didn’t trust him, but he seemed friendly girl don’t do it
you inched close and with a sweep of your foot, dusted a bit of the salt to let him through.
Alastor stepped through and now you were being towered over.
Alastor took you in.
what a small thing you were. He was sure you had no idea what you were doing or dealing with.
But if it was deal you wanted, he will grant that.
”What do you want?”
You wrung your hands nervously as you spilled your sad excuse of a life and your far fetched dream.
You felt a surge of determination as you finished your little rant “That’s why I need a deal! I deserve to rise to the top! I’ve worked my ass off for years and nothing! Why-Why should I settle for this? My life deserved to be full of glamor and money! I deserve that right? Right! S-s-so what do you say”
Oh what an innocent thing you were.
Such a fire that had nowhere to burn.
Perfect 
Alastor feigned mulling it over, your face dropping as he walked away from you.
”A deal works both ways my dear”he started as he turned back to you “What will you give me in return?” His smile stretched across his face as his calm facade faded.
You gulped but you were not gonna back out “Ill give you anything j-just please I don’t care what I have to do!”
He was in front of you in a flash, making you take a step back nervously 
“Anything?” A clawed hand squished your cheeks hard as he leaned his face to yours
”prove it” he purred
You blinked.  How the hell were you suppose to do that?
Nothing in this world is free. Your momma taught you that and your warning bells were screaming.
His thumbs was running over your lips and you opened your mouth to suck it.
You could die right now. Was this worth it? To give up your dignity to a demon?
Alastor growled and in a swift motion, you were on your bedroom floor, heart thumping in your ears as you looked up at the demon on top of you.
Alastor’s free hand swiped down your body, tearing your clothes to shreds, leaving you naked.
You felt a soft heat curl in your stomach.
Alastor laughed darkly as he took in your naked form. His hand dipped down and thumbed at the small bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt.
Oh he was going to have fun with you
”One year.” He said as he dipped a finger into your tight heat.
You gasped around his finger.
”You’ll get your fame. You’ll have riches and power beyond your imagination. A top star. It’ll all be yours. But in one year you are mine. Your soul and body. Do we have a deal?” He was slowly fingering you, relishing in the softness your cunt offered as it squeezed around him.
Your body and soul in exchange for glory.
Did you still want this?
”yes” you whimpered
A green glow emitted around the two of you. Alastor eyes glowed and his antlers grew as he plucked his thumb from your mouth and slammed his lips onto yours as he rubbed your clit as he slammed his fingers into you.
”mmmhmm hmmm!’ You cried into his mouth as your orgasm hit you.
Your cunt clenched around him, creamy slick drowning his hand.
Your body buzzed as he retracted his fingers, watching in bliss as he licked your cum off his fingers.
”Oooh such a sweet cunt” He Purred at you as he scooped you up into his arms to lay you on your bed.
”Ill always keep close watch my dear, so don’t think you can back out of this” he said, you blinked sleepily as you felt the coldness of a necklace clasped around your neck.
“One year my dear”
Your world faded to black.
pt 2 coming soon..hehehe
@thewinchestah @catherine1206 @stygianoir @jellibean2018 @markster666 @strawberrypimp666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @gojosaturos-wife @tojirights @polytheatrix @dennsfz @horrorartsworld @prosciuttosblog @yourdoorisunlocked @dievia3 @alastorsdarling @t0byisher3 @mneferta @purplecatsandhearts @alishii @okay-babe @danveration @absurd-ash @peachedtv @simphornies @fatnug @alastorsdear @alastwhore666 @stawberrypimpsimp @altruisticalastor @queenariesofnarnia @scaramoochiie @rradio-static @someonethatsnotimportantplshelp @squeekycheesecurd @squixythebee @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @coleisyn @bratty2bunny @v0xsw1fe @alstorloml @fizzled-phoenix @siiv3r @k1y0yo @yunimimii @wisteria-seal @kassa-stardust
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redcoralpot · 6 months
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U Malatu - Mike Schmidt x M! Reader
Summary: Mike gets a call back on the ad he had sent out for a new babysitter for Abby. While they were interested in the job, Mike was more than interested in them.
Warnings: NSFW content (masturbation), and mentions of murder.
Word Count: 1.55K
Notes: Consider this a gift for the gay Mike simps!!
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Mike had expected nothing of it, really. He had paid a newspaper company a few dollars to display ads for a babysitter in their daily papers; a last ditch attempt before starting his new job at a local pizzeria. He was working the night shifts, and with his office being in the middle of a highly dangerous, abandoned building, he hesitated in bringing his little sister along. Abby was only ten years old– who knows what she would get into?
So, when his phone rang with a call from an unknown number, Mike immediately answered, “Hello?”
Radio silence from the other end. His mother always had warned him about spam. 
His finger hovered over a red button, ready to end the call, when a noise froze any movement, “Um… are you Mike Schmidt?”
“Yeah, this is him.”
The caller cleared their throat, “Okay, so, I’m calling about a babysitting ad I saw at a local diner; I’m interested. Is it possible for us to meet there to discuss details?”
“Woah, hold on. What’s your name?” Mike questioned, folding his jacket over a chair.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll meet you outside of Sparky’s at four o’clock. I’m looking forward to it!”
“Wait–” That was the only thing he could respond with before the line cut out, and his home screen went back to normal.
Suspicious. Maybe he should have gone a different route than dropping the opportunity of watching over a vulnerable child into just anyone’s hands, but it was too late to turn back now. Sparky’s was a public place, at least, so this person would not be able to hurt Mike without getting caught. If he got any weird feelings from them, he’d immediately call it off and go home. 
Mike glanced at the oven clock, ticking away at time like it was nothing. Currently, it was only three, and the drive to the popular diner was only fifteen minutes away. Well, shit. He was too desperate to pass this up, not with the court constantly watching his back. Mike groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, dreading his first shift already.
He ended up needing that extra time to get Abby comfortable enough for him to leave, and oh, how stubborn she was. Mike had to carry her over his shoulder just to get her into her bedroom, where she had plenty of sensory toys and items to occupy herself with. Additionally, Mike had put extra care into making sure she had the opposite too, such as noise canceling headphones in case the neighbor decided to mow his lawn again. The last time he saw her, she was huddled up on her desk again, using crayons to draw scribbly pictures of her imaginary friends. Yeah, imaginary. They weren’t real, as much as Abby claimed they were.
By the time he had gotten in the car, started it, and driven to Sparky’s, he was five minutes late. Yet, from his windshield, he could see a man in a quirky uniform sitting outside the main doors. Mike couldn’t see the details of the stranger– he needed to get his eyes checked– but he witnessed them flinch at the sound of his car door slamming. As he approached, the man jumped up with a sparkle in their eye, and held out a hand.
“Mike Schmidt?”
He didn’t shake it, causing the hand to fall awkwardly to your side, “Yeah.”
“Uh, anyways, I saw your ad. The diner hands out a paper full of ads with their menus, you see, and yours caught my eye.”
“You mentioned that.”
The man had a lopsided grin on his face, and you chuckled; the sound sent a spark up Mike’s spine, “Yes, yes I did. I make decent money, but I’m also looking for a bit of a side job too. Babysitting was on the top of my list, ‘cause I love kids.”
“Do you have any actual experience with it?”
“I was a babysitter for my first job in highschool,” he rambled, “my favorite kid was a little boy from a local daycare. His mom said he got diagnosed with autism and she needed extra help taking care of him during the evenings. He was a delight!”
“Why did you stop?”
“Ah, it’s a shame. Fritz, the little guy, was one of the kids that went missing at a pizzeria a while back. His mom was never the same after that, and I felt guilty that I wasn’t there.” You shuffled closer to the doors, shoulders tense.
“A pizzeria?”
You shrugged, “It got shut down soon after that. I guess when a couple of kids disappear into thin air in a restaurant, parents aren’t keen on bringing their children there anymore.”
Mike opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, but you stopped him, “Listen, I gotta go, this was my break. You have my number, right?”
He nodded, and you replied with your pinky and thumb sticking out of a fist, held to your ear. Mike watched as you disappeared into the diner, curiosity and another, more unknown feeling creeping up his chest. He remembered it so well, looking back on it.
-
Nowadays, Abby loves you. Mike could lean on the doorway, and a smile would tug on the corners of his lips as he watched you make shapes with your hands. A light was set in her room specifically for this purpose, as the shadows cast would mimic whole storylines. His little sister would view it in glee; the tales always accompanied by voice acting, your doing. Mike even started, in the back of his mind, to prefer the idea of spending the night like that instead of in front of a collection of security cameras. He observed your hands, how your body moved, your face, and more embarrassingly, your lips.
Mike studied how gentle and sickeningly sweet your voice was when you praised Abby, but also the stern expression that played in your eyes when she misbehaved. You would glance up at him sometimes, the manner still stained, and a heady feeling would slam into his brain. The experience always only lasted a few seconds, when his little sister would grumble again, and you were pulled back towards her. Frankly, there were times when Mike wished you would continue, though he’d never admit it. He pushed it down with everything else.
Alas, that can only work for so long– a man has needs. Those needs surface at the worst possible time, and for Mike, that was on his endless night shift at the pizzeria. He cursed under his breath, feeling his dick straining against his jeans. The feeling of your hand manhandling him out of his own front door was imprinted on his shoulder, even if his uniform vest covered it. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine, and he closed his eyes as his eyebrows scrunched together.
“F-fuck.” He whispered. 
His seat shook as Mike shifted in it, fidgeting, unable to focus on the bright screens on his desk. The more he tried ignoring it, the more depraved thoughts infected his head. A finger trailed up the seam of his pants, his breath hitching, where it finally landed on the button holding it all together. Mike bit his lip and unbuttoned it, a whine escaping him as he palmed himself. 
He imagined it was you that was doing it, your strong palm cupping his crotch as easily as you did a mug at home. He snaked fingers into his boxers, sliding himself out of the top, and rested his forehead against the wood under the cameras. His dick twitched at the movement, and he brushed against the tip. Mike huffed as he slid his hand down, and then up, repeating; spreading precum as it came out. What else could you do with that strength?
Could you manhandle him on his hands and knees? You could, he knew, and you would trail your hands down his body. So very gentle, so very kind, for what you were about to do. You could hold his hips still to prevent him from thrusting up into your hand, as he whimpered in complaint. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt the stickiness grow in his hand; you could call him the most pathetic things and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. A pet, a slut, a little whore.
Mike let out a quiet moan, “Please…”
He’d face away from you as you thrust your own against his cock, not even earning the privilege to look at you. You would treat him as only a toy to use, whenever, and however you wanted. His ass would be red from how hard your skin slapped against his; the sting only sending down zaps of pleasure. You wouldn’t even bother taking off your own clothes, only his. 
“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you’d grunt.
That same heady feeling slammed into Mike again, but this time was different– this time it was accompanied by a white flash in front of his eyes. His body seized upwards, drool smearing against the desktop. The guard felt warmth drip down his palm, onto his pants and the floor. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep, shaky breath. 
The stain was going to be hard to explain.
-
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twilghtkoo · 1 year
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xoxo - lee donghyuck
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synopsis. in which, your little niece has a crush on your boyfriend.
pairings. donghyuck x reader (f)
genre. fluff, established relationship, non!idol au
warnings. none!
notes. this idea is inspired by this tiktok i saw T_T i was like holy shit this is cute now let’s make it about hyuck :D also something is wrong w my taglist, it says it got deleted but i didn’t delete it so i might have to make a new one😭 so if the link isn’t working that’s why!! just letting y’all know :)
masterlist | series masterlist
“and she hates the crust on her bread–“ your older sister tries to inform.
you push her out your door, mindlessly nodding your head. “i know, i know, don’t worry she’s gonna be fine. now go, before you’re late.” you wave to her one last time before you close the door behind her with a huff.
your six year old niece is still standing behind you with her bluey backpack on her shoulders that has all the things that would entertain her for tonight.
“hi, sweetie. i missed you,” you crouch down to her level, helping her out of her shoes and taking off her backpack.
“i missed you too, auntie!” she smiles and takes off to your living room, giggling.
you had already put on her favorite cartoon on your tv, as you follow her with her bag in your hands before placing it beside the couch.
she’s totally immersed herself in the animated slice-of-life adventures of the dog family. you stand inches away from her, amused at how she has blocked out all of her surroundings.
you turn to walk into your kitchen, thinking of preparing something easy for dinner.
“auntie!” your niece calls out from the living room.
you hum in response, putting away the dried dishes from last night.
“is donghyuck-ie coming over today?” she asks, curiously. and you know just by her tone and the mention of her second favorite person (first is obviously me) she’s twiddling her fingers.
you chuckle to yourself. “yes, he’s coming over later though.”
you hear her gasp before it goes back to being silent, the faint sound of the tv echoing through your apartment.
you’ve noticed your little niece’s infatuation with your boyfriend and you and donghyuck think it’s the cutest thing. she loves playing with him when he comes over while you’re babysitting her, making him sit in the living room with her and color and play with her toys. she gets all shy and geeky when donghyuck walks with her holding hands.
your older sister finds it funny and amusing.
“tell your boyfriend to stop being so handsome yeah? my daughter is bragging to everybody that donghyuck-ie bought her a toy.” your sister groans into your ear, on the phone with you.
you’ve been busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, appreciating the comforting sound of bluey and bingo playing along. every so and so minutes you check on your niece by calling her name.
“yes?”
“just checking on you, you good?”
she hums cutely. “yes auntie.” you peek your head out, seeing her sprawled out on the floor with her backpack next to her and all its contents spread out. she’s drawing something in front of the tv, concentrating with her tongue poking out as she scribbled with her crayons and gazing up at the tv.
she crawls up to her feet, bending down to grab the piece of paper she was doodling on before stomping over to you.
“auntie! auntie!”
you raise your eyebrows, giving her your undivided attention.
she shoves the piece of paper in your face. “look!”
you lean your head back, blinking, trying to adjust to what she’s showing you.
she’s holding up a stationary bluey themed piece of paper that has blue textured crayon words written neatly across the printed lines.
‘dear sunflower ♡’
you gasp, bringing your hands to cover your mouth. “is this a letter for donghyuck?” you whisper to her, from her view, your eyes shaped into crescent moons and your hands are covering your smile.
your niece giggles, using the letter in her tiny hands to hide her face as the pig tails from her head bounce from her nodding.
“he’s gonna love it! i mean, who doesn’t love bluey?” you ask rhetorically, hands on your hips.
“right?”
the doorbell chimes throughout your small home, both you and your niece look at each other with big eyes. already knowing who’s behind the door. your niece runs out the kitchen and into the living room squealing as you make your way to let your boyfriend in.
“hi pretty.” haechan grins at you, his eyelids looking a bit heavy and you already know work was tough on him. he still smiles and extends his arms out for you.
you wrap your arms around his neck, playfully groaning when he squeezes you tight in his grasp.
he lets out a breathy laugh, grabbing your waist to pull you away to connect his lips with yours in a slow, gentle kiss. his hands roaming over your lower back and creeping down to your ass.
“sunflower!” you both break the kiss, you walk back to the kitchen while he bends down to greet the little girl.
“aigoo, hi cutie. how are you?” you hear him coo at her.
“thank u yn for the food.”
“thank you auntie for the food!” they both say at the same time.
you reach over the table to grab their plates and placing them inside the sink, your niece jumps up from her seat and runs out the kitchen. donghyuck takes this moment to snake his hands from behind to lace his fingers together so you can’t run.
his body towering over you, he leans down to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, peppering small kisses on your exposed skin. “thank you for dinner baby,” he mumbles against your skin.
you smile, “of course.”
“sunflower!”
he pats your ass, pecking the top of your head before walking away. “yes bum bum,” he replies. the nickname that seemed fitting and grew on her over time, it being short for bumble bee.
“i made something for you.” the little girl shyly utters, the piece of paper in her hands as she shoves it in his hands.
he laughs lightly, sitting on the balls of his feet. “did you draw something for me?”
she shakes her head, her toothy smile on display, her hands behind her back as she sways back and forth on her feet.
you appear behind donghyuck, relaxing your hand on his shoulder.
it’s a comforting silence in your apartment, he’s taking the time to carefully read each word and reading a certain word over again because of the misspelling but he finds it endearing, his smile growing wider as he gets closer to the end.
‘xoxo, bum bum :)’
“hugs and kisses, where did you learn that from?”
“school!” she exclaims.
“school shouldn’t be teaching you how to win hearts,” he states with a playful pout.
she clasps her hands together, stepping closer towards him to point at the tiny prints. “i used my bluey stationary kit, do you like the paper?”
“i do, i’m very honored and i’m going to hang it up in my home. this is my first letter i got from a girl!” he whisper-shouts in your niece’s ear.
obviously you heard him and that made you nudge him with your knee, making him lose his balance.
“auntie you have to write sunflower love letters.”
he smirks, “yeah, auntie.”
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arkieandsprig · 4 months
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Things to do when your bored (little edition)
Hi guys it’s sprig here I have a jar that I use when I bored (it’s mainly used when I’m not regressed). Today Arkie asked me to look through the jar and find things that littles could do. Then they asked me to share it with you guys so here it is.
Watch funny YouTube videos (with your CG or your stuffies)
Play a board game with your CG or little friends (My favourite is pictureka)
Have a bubble bath (with bath toys if you have any)
Make paper boats, paper aeroplanes, paper chains or paper snowflakes
Play some age appropriate video games (I like animal crossing and slime rancher)
Do some colouring
Plan your very own business
Make a collage
Take silly selfies (photo booth is a good app for this)
Write a story
Draw an animal (real or made up)
Read an age appropriate book (my favourite is starpuff)
Watch an age appropriate movie (my favourite is my little pony: the movie)
Junk modelling (make models out of recycling)
Go for a walk with your CG or a stuffy
Have a teddy bear picnic
Make a pillow and blanket fort
Learn how to make scoobies
Design your very own poster
Draw your dream house or playroom
Go outside and do a scavenger hunt
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
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Hey! Love your stuff! But i kinda notice you mainly do Vox and Al so...
Can you do like....... A husker x child!reader headcanons ? (Platonic ofc)
The old bartender finds a kid completely without adult supervision at a bar (their just drawing ) , goes up to them to find thier guardian only to realise they dont have any?
Husker wants to get rid of them but they ultimately grow on him and they become closer. The kid is sarcastic and they shit on alastor together....
And they draw a mocking pic of the radio demon and stick it onto the fridge of the hotel for everyone to see?
There is a LOT of Vox and Alastor in my inbox but I'm a sucker for Husk so-
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Husk X Reader Headcanons
❌️Romantic
✅️Platonic
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TW: Unaccompanied minor in places a baby shouldn't be
Description: 👆⬆️
Sometimes Husk just needs a break from being a bartender, wanting to be the one being served
He wants to relax in his free time and just have a moment to himself
Actually starts to let loose when he suddenly feels a tiny hand tugging on his wing
Husk is so confused when he looks down to see a child staring up at him, clutching dirty paper and crayons
"Can you help me up, mister..? The chairs are too high..."
Sets you up on the barstool next to him, still too stunned to really ask why you're even here
He looks at the bartender as they pass him his drink, gesturing to you with a wtf expression
They just shrug as they give you a plastic cup with water in it, obviously used to having you around by that point
Finally snaps out of it once the bartender pushes a plate of food towards you
Don't look at him like that it's perfectly natural to be freaked out by a kid at a bar
You're just kicking your legs and drawing, munching on the food given to you
You shouldn't be in a rowdy place like this, who's supposed to be watching you??
"So uh...does your mommy take you here often?"
"No, does yours?"
Motherfucker you're already spilling your water on yourself-here let him help you-how are you so bad at this???
"Your papa then?"
"No, I don't have any parents but- *insert bartender's name* -is really nice and let's me hang out in here.."
You're breaking his fucking heart, kid
"Oh well...don't mind me then."
"Uh yeah, I won't."
Sarcastic for such a little squirt, aren't you?
His drink suddenly tastes sour and he's no longer in the mood for another, watching you unhappily
Starts seeing you every time he visits the bar, always keeping to yourself and oblivious to the things going on around you
At first, he's annoyed whenever he sees you, reluctantly keeping an eye on you and making sure nobody bothers you
Even if they do, you're so witty for your age that you leave just about everyone gobsmacked by the shit that comes out of your mouth
The whole point of coming where was to relax and instead he's worrying about some kid
Then that annoyance slips away to reluctant fondness as you worm your way into his old heart
He starts to look forward to seeing you and starts bringing little things for you like clothes, toys, coloring books
Listens to you babble about what you do with your days and how you've managed to survive on your own
Not the bartender developing a crush on him for it
Husk doesn't even realize how attached he is until one day he visits the bar and you aren't there, the bartender distracted and upset
You haven't shown up in couple of days
He immediately goes looking for you, frequenting all the places he's heard you mention
Is asking anyone if they've seen you, getting more frantic with each negative answer
Finally finds someone who knows where you are, leading Husk to where you've been hiding out
And now he knows why you haven't shown up
Husk gathers up your shaking, feverish body, hating the fact that you're so sick
"H-Husk..?"
You can barely even open your eyes, he can feel your little body burning up in his arms
"Hey kid..."
He's not leaving you here
He takes you back to the hotel so that you can be properly taken care of, leaning on the others when he doesn't know what to do
Charlie and Vaggie are the biggest helps tbh, they're actually good at caring for people
Alastor is entirely unhelpful except for the fact that he can provide medicine and other supplies
"My my~ Look at what the cat dragged in! Aha!"
"Shut up...you weird strawberry man.."
Even when you're sick you're still a riot
He tries to keep Niffty tf away from you but you think she's funny
He and Angel are your makeshift heaters, so fuzzy and warm that you want to cuddle them all the time
Angel complains the entire time though so you don't really prefer him
Mostly you want Husk with you and he sticks with you until you're feeling better
By then you're well acquainted with everyone at the hotel and they're all quite attached to you
Everyone agrees that you live there now and you get your own room even though you have a habit of sleeping in Husk's
It's okay, Husk looks forward to waking up to your adorable face and doesn't even mind when you kick him in your sleep
You play with Niffty and Angel, learn from Charlie and Vaggie, bother Alastor with your less than flattering renditions of him
You don't like that Alastor is so rude to Husk so you've taken to being a little thorn in his side
Kids pick up on their parent's emotions what can I say
Which Alastor absolutely hates but hides it behind a tight smile, he's surprisingly patient with you
And if those drawings of Alastor on the fridge suddenly go missing?? Husk can always ask you to make him another one
Husk finds himself thinking of you as his kid more and more often, surprised that you ever got this close to his heart
And you yourself slip up a few times and call him dad/papa/daddy/father/pops
You're always a little embarrassed by the chorus of awwws that follow afterwards but you don't really mind it anymore
And neither does he if he's being honest
He struggles sometimes to be a proper caregiver for you but you always seem to just love him more for his flaws
You're too fucking cute
You're definitely his kid
And don't worry Husk lets the bartender know you're safe and brings you to visit them after their shifts
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I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS I LOVE DADDY!HUSK SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT TOO
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libraryofloveletters · 4 months
Text
Stuff It
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Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader
Warnings: cheesy boyfriend charles, horrible artistic skills, pascale knows you two are just idiots in love, first christmases together.
Word Count: 661
Author's Note: charles seems like the type of guy to go to his mom when he's stuck on what to give as a gift so here we are lmao
--
Charles goes a bit over board seeing that it’s your first Christmas with him, as his girlfriend that is. He revives an old tradition you two had as children.
The thing about lifelong friendships, they often leave a little to no room for a surprise.
So on you and Charles, your lifelong best friend, finally being to date, there isn't much he could do to surprise you.
It's your first Christmas together as a couple officially, and Charles just wants to do something to make it special for you. He's tried to do everything he could think of, from googling to Pinterest to asking his brothers, who let's be real, weren't much help. He finally turned to the one person he knows would have an answer for him.
"Maman, je ne sais pas quoi faire." (Mom, I don't know what to do.) Charles's chin rests on the palm of his hand, watching as his mom cuts the fruit at the kitchen counter
Pascale hums, as if in thought for a moment before she speaks. "Why don't you stuff a stocking for her?"
"I'm not 6 years old, maman." He huffs, his brows furrowed and she smiles - he looked exactly like he did when he was 6 years old right now.
"I know that Charles, but when you guys were little you used to exchange stockings, remember? You draw her a picture and we put sweets and little toys in for her."
Charles tries to think, it sounded familiar and he nods. "Yeah, okay."
"Are you staying for lunch ?" The woman asks and he shakes his head, kissing her cheek after he gets up. "I'll be back tomorrow, love you!" He shouts to her as he heads out the door.
He has the shops with one thing in mind, find you a stocking that suited you best. He searches and searches and with no luck does he find one with a picture that suits you. Finally in a last ditch effort, he ends up in some random shop that sold random odds and ends for Christmas.
There's a blue stocking with snowflakes, and printed along the side of it with your initials on the top; Charles thinks what is his luck to find this.
He pays the man at the counter and heads home with the stocking shoved into the bag. He had picked up a few things he thought you'd like while he was at the other store.
The stocking sits on the coffee table, filled with all your favourite beauty products, sweets, and a few other odds and ends that Charles thinks that you might need or like.
He was working on the last thing that he wanted to put in, a drawing of you and him in front of his race car, which was, in his words, rather poorly drawn.
He folds the paper carefully, slipping it into the side of the stocking before picking it up to put it away before you come home.
It was as if he summoned you, the front door opened and in you came with a bag in hand. "Hi love," you smiled.
Charles's hands are behind his back and he's a bit shifty. You look at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. "You okay?"
"I have something for you," he says, pulling the stocking out from behind his back.
You can't help but laugh, a big smile on your face as you reach into the bag that you brought in with you. You pull out a red stocking with Christmas trees on it and show Charles.
"Did you talk to my mom?" He asks, as you two switch stockings. You nod, smiling, "I guess you did too."
It was no surprise that you and Charles found your way to each other, you are identical in almost every way. The stockings contain a few of the same things, the same sweets, the same drawings.
To be fair, your drawing was a bit better than Charles' but it's the thought that counts.
Your hand rests on his jaw, giving him a kiss. "thank you baby, this is the sweetest thing you could have done."
986 notes · View notes
kerrslvr · 2 months
Text
occupied // sam kerr
summary; in which, sam recognises the hotel housekeepers face, and when she walks in on sam in a compromised position, she sees if she fancies giving her a helping hand.
warnings; cocky!sam, dom!sam, sub!reader, oral, fingering, spitting, finger gagging, language, strap ons, penatrative sex, multiple orgasms, i think that's it lol. this hasnt been proofread so i apologise for spelling errors/things not making sense. i got very overwhelmed at the end of this and i just wanted to get it out. thank u to @landopeaches for being my hypewoman every single time x
****
as you pushed your trolley down the hall, you noticed how quiet it was, with most of the guests still sleeping, and while you wished you were still sleeping, your shift had just begun.
your job was inarguably one of the most boring, mundane jobs in the world, but the money was enough to keep you afloat and if any relitively nice or unused clothes, jewelry or cosmetics were left in rooms, you normally kept them for yourself which was really the only bonus. that, and you got free use of the bar, pool, gym and sauna.
most people that stayed in the hotel would have a paper hanger on the door if they were still using their room, whether they were there or not, although some rooms were just luck of the draw. you could swing open that door and wouldn't know whether you'd see a dead body or a couple going at it, although it was entertaining regardless.
room 724 didn't have a hanger on it's door, and so you figured you'd at least try it. regardless of whether somebody was in there or not, they'd probably be sleeping, or be down at breakfast, or in the gym round the corner. at least, that's what you thought.
oh, how wrong you were.
"oh, f-fuck."
sam's fingers were shaking as she pushed her shorts down her legs with one hand while the other stayed tucked into her underwear. she wasn't sure what came over her that morning, maybe it was the newfound freedom of single life, or the strap-on and toys she had sitting on the shelf in front of her that filled her head with past memories, or the pretty girl she saw at the pool the day before who she hadn't been able to stop thinking about.
it didn't matter in the long run, not really. she was horny and she was desperate for an orgasm.
her fingers brushed her clit multiple times in quick succession and she pulled a lip between her teeth. she wasn't sure why she felt as if she had to be quiet, she'd fucked many different women in this hotel and hadn't had any complaints from her neighbours when they walked out with shaky legs after screaming repeatedly for a few hours.
if the walls were thick enough for her to fuck screamers, they were thick enough for her to sort herself out.
"fuckin' hell," she breathed, allowing her fingers to slip through her own folds and feel herself up. her breath continued to shake, and a moan left her lips when she added another finger to the pressure on her clit.
her free hand felt a bit left out - sam wasn't really one for stimulating her own chest, she normally had a pretty girl on top of her that she could easily slide up onto her face high enough to suck one of her nipples into her mouth and feel the slick of their pussy grinding on her stomach. just the image of that alone sparked a fire inside of sam's body, and her fingers picked up the pace at the thought.
"mhm, o-oh, god," she whimpered, bucking her hips up into her hand and admiring the reflection of her muscles flexing in the mirror beside the bed. "can't cum yet, no matter how good i am."
at least she made herself laugh.
she was really finding her groove, and getting into the rhythm of her fingers, so much so that she didn't even hear the door latch unlocking.
at first, you didn't hear the moaning or the slight creak of the bed, and in a way, you're glad you didn't. she was the hot girl from the pool you'd been eyeing up yesterday. you continued to walk through, only to find her with her shorts round her ankles and her hand in her pants. she was shirtless, completely naked from the waist up and it made your mind spiral.
she still looked as if she'd not been awake very long, her hair still scruffy in a low ponytail and her cheeks and eyes still slightly puffy from sleep, and a glass of water sat untouched on the bedside table along with a mobile phone.
it impressed you that she could get off with just her imagination.
you were so bewildered by the sight in front of you it was as if your feet were glued to the ground, you couldn't move from that spot. even when she noticed you, standing their in your maid outfit. she thought it was a joke, that the people in the rooms next door had heard her moans, and sent up an escort knowing she was alone in the room. that was, until she saw the hotel's name embroidered into the top of the dress.
"oh, uh, s-sorry, i'll... i'll come back later."
at first, she was confused, almost agitated that the housekeeper had come in and interrupted her, and she almost, very nearly, pulled her hand from her underwear and phoned down to reception. that was, until she recognised your face.
the pretty girl from the pool. the one she couldn't stop thinking of. the one she envisioned on top of her, leaving a wet, sticky patch on her skin. she smirked.
"no, you're alright, darlin'," she shifted, her hand still in her pants and brushing against her clit as she moved, "you're the girl from the pool, yeah?"
"uh.. yeah. from yesterday."
"and is this a set up? are you an escort or something? or do you actually work here?"
"well, judging by that," you gestured to the cleaning cart down the side of the room, blocking the entrance, "i'd say i work here."
"great, i don't have to ask you to lock the door behind you then."
your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at her, confused. "i beg your pardon?"
she pulled her hand from her underwear and sucked a finger into her mouth, tasting herself on her fingertips. you couldn't deny the sight before you was already sending heat to your pussy, and you also couldn't deny that she was one of the hottest girls you'd ever laid eyes on.
"help me out, love," she said, so simply, so effortlessly, so desperately, before taking the same finger back into her mouth. "give me a couple of orgasms and i'll give you a pretty good tip."
you hummed, thinking over her offer. "what's in it for me?"
"i just told you," she pushed her legs open further and your head began to spin, "a pretty good tip."
silence fell among you both for a minute as you pondered the offer again. a pretty good tip in her words could've been ten percent or it could've been fifty. or, if your mouth was as good as you knew it was, who knows? maybe you could negotiate the offer.
"if the tips not good enough for you," you expected her to throw the offer away, telling you to forget it if her offer wasn't to your liking, "then i'll fuck you, make you cry, give you a shag that'll be enough to have you desperate for more of me."
"sounds like you're begging."
"do you want to take up the offer or not?"
silence fell again, and for a moment she expected you to turn and run, and you did turn; but to look at her collection of toys on the shelf. she smirked when you bent down slightly to inspect them further, plus, it meant she got to see your arse.
"so, i give you a couple of orgasms, you'll give me a pretty good tip," you hummed, and pulled a dildo from her collection, "and you'll fuck me with this one, how does that sound?"
she smirked and sucked another one of her fingers into her mouth. she knew your answer was yes when you started to pull your apron from the back of your dress, and she watched it fall to the floor.
"it sounds excellent, darlin'," she hummed, "but what doesn't sound good is this little attitude you've got. you're here to help me out, not the other way around. no orgasm, no fuck. understand?"
your underwear were soaked through by this point, and you nodded.
"need to hear you say it, darling."
"i-i understand."
"good," she pulled her finger from her mouth with a pop, "c'mon then, get your dress off, show me those pretty tits and get up on the bed."
you did as she asked, slipping the dress off over your head and taking your bra with it, leaving you stripped to just your underwear, small heeled black shoes and suspenders, which, of course, she wanted you to keep on.
she rested her back against the headboard and you didn't waste any time, your lips immediately pressing into her thighs. she halted your movements for a second and shifted across the bed, in which you followed. at the time, you weren't sure why but you later found out that it was so she could look at the reflection of your behind in the mirror.
she pressed her hand to your jawbone and you looked up at her, "sam, by the way, remember that for later," she shot you a smirk, "and i didn't see the badge on your name because i was too eager to see your tits."
"y/n." you replied, purposely arching your back lower so that she could get a better view in the mirror.
your lips gravitated back towards her inner thighs, your fingers grazing the line of her underwear. she was clearly not in the mood to be teased judging by her hand on your head and her agitated tension, and you wanted a fuck so you stopped.
but, not completely.
your tongue grazed her clit through the soft material of her pants, making an immediate wet patch and she jolted back. your hands pushed at her thighs and spread them apart further so you had enough space to work your magic.
a moan left her lips at your messy, spit covered face. her underwear was completely soaked with your spit, and she rolled her eyes back into her head when you pulled at the material between your fingers and watched as it split in two, leaving enough room down the middle for you to do what you had to do.
"covered in spit already, babe, hm?"
you nodded, a slight hum noise coming from your mouth and reverberating around her vagina, making her squirm underneath you. immediately, she couldn't figure out whether she regretted her decision on fucking you, or whether she thought it was the best thing she'd ever conjured up.
either way, her orgasm was fast approaching.
you hadn't eaten pussy for a while and your jaw was beginning to ache, but you weren't prepared to give up now. one hand slipped between your body and hers, and you spread her lips apart giving yourself more room to work with, and she moaned again, much louder this time.
"gonna make me cum, darlin'."
"already? god, you really were desperate, weren't you, hm?"
"three strikes and you're walking back to reception without your clothes on, y/n," she leaned over your body and slapped your arse, it was loud and the sound ricocheted around the room, leaving a harsh, bright red sting. "that's strike one. don't make me slap you again."
you moaned against her pussy and the vibration rippled through her body and you could feel the muscles of her pubic bone, thighs and stomach all tensing against your skin, and you smirked against her pussy as you continued to eat her out, purposely making your movements loud and sloppy so she could hear them reverberating around her ears for months to come.
"oh, fuck," she cursed, a hand flying to your hair and bunching it in a ponytail, "i'm gonna.. oh, fuck, you're gonna make me-"
"cum for me, sam."
"fuck," she hissed, her hips grinding down on your face as her orgasm rippled over her body, her stomach muscles involuntarily convulsing as her body reeled from the effects of her long awaited orgasm. "oh, jesus christ."
she pulled your head up and admired your skin, glistening with her juices and it was an image that was forever engraved in her brain. she leaned down and carefully, delicately kissed your lips, so as not to ruin the masterpiece her body had made across your face.
you hummed when she pulled away, and followed her lips back up to the pillows, where you instinctively pressed your lips back up against hers and slipped your tongue into her mouth. she allowed the experience, and brought a hand up to the base of your neck where she applied light pressure.
her tongue slipped between your mouth and for a minute you thought about biting her lip and silently scolding her for the move, but you only had two strikes left and the wet patch in your underwear was threatening to seep onto the bedsheets any minute.
you moaned at the pressure on your neck combined with the touch of her tongue on yours and she smirked against your lips, desperate to pull more of the noise from your body. you pulled away first, in desperate need to take a breath.
"lay down, sam," you sucked on the space of skin just below her ear, your words igniting a fire inside her body, "i wanna make you cum again."
she was so used to being the one on top, the one who made other girls feel good that this was a nice surprise. although, the pair of you knew that she was the one in charge, not the other way around.
she laid herself back down, and you immediately cocooned your body around one side of hers, your naked chest resting on her arm and one leg draped over hers as you pushed her muscular calves apart with your foot. your head buried itself in the crook of her neck and you sucked yet another spot under her neck, allowing a bruise to bloom under your teeth.
she moaned breathily, and your hand lowered itself over her exceptionally toned body, travelling lower until your delicate hand was hovering over her tanned skin, the angle of your hand accentuating the v-line leading down to her pubic bone and it made your clit twitch.
your lips trailed down to her collarbone, and slowly and softly, you started to suck on the skin of her chest. she shifted slightly, adjusting to the feeling of your lips edging closer and closer to her nipple, while your fingers carefully brushed against her clit.
she whimpered, but you shushed her with a soft coo, and carried on with your movements. her pussy was wet, coating your fingers in her own lubricant that made it much easier to explore, while your tongue carefully circled a nipple and it left her reeling.
"f-fuck, oh my god," she groaned, her muscles already shaking and tensing out of sheer pleasure, "feels so good, baby, don't stop."
you hummed, and instinctively bucked your hips into her thigh so she could get an insight into how wet your pussy was too, and it made her chuckle softly.
"so wet for each other, aren't we baby?" she spoke softly, "want me to touch your clit too?"
you nodded slightly too eagerly, with her nipple in your mouth, and she shifted her arm so it was stretched just enough to be able to brush your clit every few moments. you wanted more, so much more, but you knew to be grateful rather than greedy if you still wanted your fuck.
as soon as her finger circled your clit, you let out a big whimpery moan, desperate for more, but then she pinched your bum with her free hand and you knew you had to carry on. her hips began to buck when you sped up the movement of your fingers, adding a second to the pressure point on her clit that left her reeling for more.
you knew she wouldn't be long, and you were desperate to get it over with so you could get your kicks, while also wanting her to enjoy the experience and have it leave a lingering impact.
her breathing laboured as you sucked the other nipple into your mouth, and weaved your free hand between your bodies so you could stimulate her other one at the same time, so she had everything going on all at once that was enough to overstimulate her and give her exactly what she wanted all at once.
she started to grind down on your fingers, much like she did with your face, and her free hand grabbed your wrist and held it flush against her body.
"want me to cum again, hm, baby?"
you nodded, a gasp escaping your lips as she added another finger to the pressure on your clit, mirroring what you'd done to her. "y-yes," you choked, "cum all over my hand, p-please."
the sound of your broken voice, the whimpers tumbling from your lips, she found it all too much and couldn't help herself when her second orgasm rippled through her body. she practically growled, her body igniting in flames.
she looked hot underneath you, your eyes scanning over her body with eagerness as her orgasm rocked through her. you pulled a lip between your teeth and watched with admirable eyes right up until the aftershocks of her orgasm faded away.
"hey," she laughed, "you're good at that, aren't you, darlin'?"
"not just a pretty face, sam."
"no, you most certainly are not," she spun around so she was on her side, and allowed you to fall to your back against the mattress, "i wonder if your pussy is as pretty as your face, hm?"
she slid your pants down your thighs until they pooled at your ankles, and she admired the glisten of your wet pussy that shone in the sunlight, and didn't waste any time in getting a taste of you.
"oh... oh my.... s-sam, you're..."
"i'm a woman of my word, babe," she pulled away from your pussy and kissed across the inside of your thighs, "i'll fuck you, i will, but i just need to open you up first, hm? make sure you're nice and wet for my cock, darling."
you nodded, wriggling around on the bed until she stilled you. the anticipation was agonizing. she stilled you with a hand over your stomach, and her tongue moved back to circle your clit, the fingers from her other hand trailing around the lips of your pussy.
you were desperate, aching for the feeling of her fingers inside of you, and so repeatedly teased with circles around your hole, until eventually she slipped them in. one, at first, gently stretching you out with an expert finger.
this was in fact, not her first rodeo.
"tastes so sweet baby, you wanna taste?"
"mhm, please," you hummed.
sam's fingers pressed in and out of you, in and out, in and out, until she gathered enough of your wetness, and you opened your mouth thinking she was going to stick her fingers on your tongue. only she didn't, she licked her own fingers clean and you sat there with furrowed brows until her body drew closer to yours.
she pried open your jaw and spat your juices into your own mouth which left you spiraling. she held your mouth open and let your tongue hang out over your lip, and she continued to spit into your mouth until your tongue was covered in her own saliva.
"what a pretty little spit painted picture you are, y/n," she teased before her fingers slid down your throat and gagged you. you choked around her fingers and instinctively grabbed her wrist, "you got a safeword in mind?"
you nodded and she carried on, her fingers sliding down your throat until the muscles contracted and you gagged, spluttering and coughing when her hand pulled its way back out. her lips pressed against yours in a sloppy, wet kiss and her still-wet fingers slid between your folds and they slid inside you so much easier now.
"oh, f-fuck, sam, y-you feel so... your fingers..."
she smirked, that was the kind of moaning she was used to.
her thumb rubbed your clit aggressively and her fingers continued to curl in and out of your pussy so to stretch you out, getting you ready for her cock.
your whimpers and moans were enough to send her into overdrive, and she knew she couldn't handle it much longer. she pulled her fingers out of you and pulled her lips away from yours, and you lay there, fucked out, when she'd barely even touched you.
"keep playing with your pussy while i do this, babe," she rolled her eyes when you mewled at the loss of contact and pinched your cheeks together, "or else you're getting fucking nothing."
"o-okay."
you did as she said and pressed two fingers against your clit, carefully applying pressure that made your head spin. you watched sam get up from the bed and immediately pull her legs through the harness on the shelf. you couldn't help but squirm and moan as you watched her from behind, the view of her front in the mirror as she looped the loops so effortlessly.
"you okay there, baby?"
"i... fuck, i need you so bad, sam."
she turned over her shoulder to watch you as her hands continued to loop the loops and tie the knots, and she smirked. "i know, baby, i know," she grabbed the dildo from the bed, "my cock's almost ready for you, isn't it, darling? hm? you keeping your pussy nice and wet for daddy?"
you froze. just for a moment. at the word she'd given herself, unsure what to make of the situation. and then a moan tumbled from your lips. it was hot, really.
"y-yeah, daddy."
"good girl," she turned around once the dildo was secured, and grabbed the lube from the many different trinkets on her shelf and moved over to the bed, "show me your pussy, baby."
your hands spread your pussy apart right in front of her, allowing her full access. she pumped lube into her hand and spread it all across the base of her cock - not that she really needed it, you were already wet enough, but she just liked to put on a show.
she crawled up the bed on her knees to you until she was kneeling between your legs, and in your desperation you hooked your legs around hers and pulled her in. she chuckled at your eagerness.
your breathing was laboured as you watched her balancing herself on her knees and getting into a comfortable position. she guided her dick to your wet folds and allowed herself to tease you, just for a minute, and her lips locked into yours as she slid inside of you.
immediately, you gasped as every inch slid inside of you piece by piece. "oh, oh, fuck," you whined, "i knew you'd have insane dick game."
her hands spread your thighs apart further, and her strokes became deeper as she fought to hit every spot. you couldn't stop the whines and whimpers that escaped your lips, tumbling out of your mouth with every turn.
your legs wrapped around her waist, leaving her body flush against yours and trapping her in so she had to finish the job she'd promised. your bodies were slick with sweat, and it was arguably some of the best sex you'd ever had.
"your pussy is so fucking wet, y/n," she grunted, pulling out all the way and rubbing the tip of her cock along your clit, before pushing back in, "and yet it's still so fucking tight."
you nodded, moaning deliriously as she hooked one of your legs over her shoulder, allowing the stretch to become deeper, harder, stronger.
"it's still a pussy that was made for you, daddy," you breathed, wrapping an arm around her neck and pulling her down to your lips, "don't you agree?"
sam made a noise akin to a growl, her teeth coming into contact with your bottom lip, biting and tugging on the flesh as if it were her own to play with.
"yeah," she grunted, "my perfect little pussy."
you moaned, raising your back up off the bed and pressing your chest up against hers. her fingers drew messy circles around your clit and you began clenching around her cock, the butterflies in your stomach beginning to swarm.
"sam... 'm gonna, i don't think i..."
"surely you're not going to cum already, darling? i haven't even turned you over yet."
with that, sam pulled out and spun you around, your head pressed into the pillows. she moved you how she wanted you, her perfectly eager little doll, with your arms up on your back and your arse up in the air, giving her leverage to grip your arms as she fucked you full force.
one hand gripped your wrists, while the other spread apart your cheeks as best she could, and as you felt a dribble of spit travelling down from your bum to your pussy you whined and writhed.
"stop being so dramatic, darling," she pinched your bum, "please just let me fuck you."
your words jumbled in the pillowcase and sam didn't have the patience to stop and ask you what it was. she wanted to see you cumming and she wanted to be the one to do it. her thrusts were rapid, the consistent rhythm making you dizzy, and you didn't think you'd be able to keep your composure for much longer.
"sam... s-sam, please, i-i can't..."
"what do you want, pretty girl? hm? you gonna tell me?"
"i... i need to... please let me cum," you struggled with your words through the relentless thrusting of her hips but you were teetering on the edge and you physically couldn't hold it much longer. "please."
your pussy clenched around her dick and she knew you wouldn't last much longer, "seeing as you asked so nicely, my darling, why don't you cum all over my cock."
your hands gripped at nothing, and you'd be left with the sting of your fingernails digging into your skin for hours to come, but you didn't really care in that moment. sam continued to fuck you through your orgasm, her mind reeling as you practically exploded all over her.
every moan and whimper you had rolled into one and your words became incoherent from just before your orgasm hit you, to until you'd ridden it out.
sam pulled her cock out of your pussy and it was followed by a little trickle of juices, which she immediately bent down to lick up. you shuddered and instinctively moved your body away, and she noticed this, patting you on the leg softly.
"i'm still here, until next wednesday," she said after a few minutes of silence, sliding some shorts on over her strap-on, "i was just wondering if you fancied doing this again?"
"gonna tip me every time? seeing as you think i'm an escort," you both laughed and she handed you your clothes as you sat round the side of the bed, "no, that would be nice. but, maybe not while i'm working."
she smirked. "what time does your shift finish?"
"probably about one thirty, providing i don't get fired."
"don't worry," she threw a shirt on over her head, "i'll make sure to give you a glowing review."
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viennakarma · 3 months
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Alonso Shenanigans
Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: Mamá has business to attend, and Fernando is left to watch his son and get a hold of his whereabouts.
Word count: 1.8k
Tags: female reader, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, dad!Nando, silly little slice of life, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Another bite sized fluffy Nando fic, because I think about that one thing he said about finding happiness in becoming a father at least four times a week. Comments and feedback are appreciated xx
“Are you sure, love?” You asked again, nervous, watching as Fernando carried Alejandro attached to his hip.
“Yes, I’m sure, will you be back later today?” Fernando asked, as Ale played with his father’s hair, mumbling a little lullabye.
“Yes, in around three hours,” you said, kissing the top of Ale’s head, then pecking Fernando’s lips, “I’m really sorry, this meeting came out of nowhere, I promise I’ll make it up to you when-”
“Amor, it’s ok,” Fernando interrupted, “Go, we’ll behave and wait for you.”
It was just media day, but unfortunately a last minute meeting at your company needed to happen, and you’d have to leave your husband and kid alone in the paddock so you could go back to the hotel to attend the meeting online.
“Love you two to the moon and back!” You said, scurrying off.
“Mamá!” Alejandro asked, suddenly noticing his mother’s absence, and getting fussy.
“Mamá had to work, we’re going to have a lot of fun together today!” Fernando said, putting him on the floor, and holding his hand.
He took Alejandro all around, when he went to talk with the mechanics about the last update to his car, when he went to take a few pictures, recording a few marketing stuff, here and there. Everyone knew Alejandro as “Little Alonso”, his tiny feet padding around, his head full of disheveled brown wavy hair, and eyes that were pretty much the same as his father. He was always around, pointing at his dad’s car, muttering gibberish half in spanish and half in english, he also liked walking to the engineers pulling on their shirts to get their attention so he could ask for a headphone.
At the age of four and a half, Alejandro was a known face around the paddocks, always asking questions and waiting to know about everyone’s business.
“Papá, I’m hungry!” Alejandro patted his own belly, which made his dad chuckle.
“Ok, we’re getting food, campeoncito,” Fernando muttered, leading his son to his room. Inside, he rummaged through all his bags, searching for his snacks and juice bottle.
He ended up sitting beside Alejandro in the cafeteria, the little boy munching in a pot of cut fruits, a bag of chips, and a mango juice. Alejandro talked about everything, asking about the people and the colors, and why everything was where it was.
Eventually, Fernando had a meeting, so he set a little playing mat to Alejandro on the floor of the meeting room, where he put his son’s toys, paper and crayons. 
“Papá, yo quiero inside your car!” Ale asked, as Fernando placed him on the little mat.
“I’ll take you to sit in my car as soon as we finish here, yes? Just sit tight and I’ll be really fast. Do you want to play with your toys, or paint a little? Come on,” Fernando took a crayon and started drawing, looking over his shoulder to see his engineers and strategists getting inside, sitting down, opening their laptops and notes. Nobody batted an eye to Fernando kneeling on the floor, convincing his kid to sit quietly. Everyone was used to the Alonsos’ shenanigans.
Finally, after making sure Alejandro was still on the mat, under his sight, Fernando went on and started the meeting.
It took something between 20 and 30 minutes until it was over, and when Fernando went to pick Alejandro, he noticed his little boy wasn’t there anymore, and the door was slightly ajar. Muttering every curse word he could think of, he bolted outside. Alejandro had become a little menace in escaping rooms now that he was tall enough to tiptoe and reach a door handle.
“Have you seen Alejandro?” He stopped a couple of the staff in the hall to ask. They just shook their heads. He went to the garage, and stopped the whole team of mechanics, his heart beating faster than it did when racing, “Have you guys seen Alejandro?”
“He walked past with Lance a few minutes ago,” Someone said, pointing outside. Fernando breathed again, ok, at least he wasn’t alone, roaming around and in danger.
Striding forward, Fernando kept looking for his teammate and his son, and eventually ended up in Ferrari. He walked inside to ask Carlos if he had seen the little boy, but he stopped short when he noticed a tiny hand print made with what looked like grease on the livery of the 55 Ferrari, and the letters “ALE” written sloppily with the very same black grease.
“Oh, mierda,” he whispered. Carlos noticed him, walking up to Fernando with a smile.
“Ale was just here with Lance, we talked for a couple of seconds, and when we looked, he had his hand printed on the car,” Carlos explained, as Fernando winced.
“Lo siento, Carlos. Do you know where they might have gone?” He asked.
“Well, Lance said he was going to wash Ale’s hands. So, back to Aston Martin, maybe?” Carlos shrugged.
Fernando went back to his garage, looking for Lance and Alejandro. Finally, he found Lance using a cloth to dry his hands. He smiled and waved at Fernando, who quickly went up to him.
“Is Alejandro with you?” Fernando asked.
“Oh, he saw George walking by, ran up to him and they both bolted together. I have no idea where they went. Sorry.” Lance muttered.
Fernando walked out again, going to the Mercedes motorhome to find his son once again. Honestly, everyone loved Alejandro way more than they loved Fernando, he was pretty sure, and the little boy was frankly a menace all around. If he found someone like George to match his energy, they would go around causing trouble to everyone.
At the Mercedes motorhome, he found Lewis staring curiously at a bowl of fruits.
“Hey, have you seen Alejandro? Lance said he and Geor-” Fernando stopped himself when he got closer to the table where the bowl of fruits sat.
“Well, for sure they’ve been here,” Lewis muttered, holding an apple, showing how the fruit had one single bite taken off. One little bite which Fernando knew very well who that dental arch belonged to. There was a bite on the apple, the banana, the pear, the peach and every single fruit there.
“¡Ay, dios mio! I’m sorry about this!” Fernando whispered, “I need to find them before him and George set the whole paddock on fire.”
Fernando walked out, knowing that George was probably going to look for Alex or Lando, who would probably support their little mischief around. He found Williams garage first, where he found a laughing Logan Sargeant picking up what looked like hundreds of little pieces of lego. And Fernando knew his kid, and knew he loved throwing things to the floor to make a mess.
“That’s Alejandro’s doing, right?” Fernando asked, wide eyed. Logan nodded and explained how the little boy had been there with George to taunt Alex after throwing his lego piece to the floor and scattering all the tiny pieces. Fernando helped Logan pick up the pieces from the floor.
“The three of them left, saying they had to prank Lando too,” Logan told Fernando, when they finished.
Fernando ran off, walking to McLaren, where he found Lando washing off his hair which was tangled in pink play dough, and George was trying to help him. Standing a little far behind, Alex had Alejandro sitting on his shoulders, the two of them giggling with Oscar.
“Alejandro didn’t do that, did he?” Fernando asked, worried and getting angry.
“No, no!” George was quick, “that was an accident on my part!”
“Yeah, little Alonso is innocent on this!” Lando added. Fernando squinted, not sure if he fully believed that, since Fernando himself had gone through something similar with Alejandro and his play dough.
“Look, any kind of oil will remove that from your hair,” Fernando patted his back, walking to his kid.
Alex gave him Alejandro, who Fernando decided was best to keep attached to him, not letting the little boy out of his sight again.
“Green! Verde, verde!” Alejandro was exclaiming to Alex.
“What is going on, pollito?” Fernando asked.
“He asked me to paint my hair green next time,” Alex explained, showing his blonde hair.
“And you agreed?” Fernando frowned.
“Yeah, whatever little Alonso wants, little Alonso gets,” Alex shrudded, laughing and pinching Alejandro chubby cheeks.
“You guys spoil him too much!” Fernando shook his head, waving goodbye and taking Alejandro back to his garage, “now I understand why mamá wants to buy a little backpack leash for you, little troublemaker.”
Alejandro held his face, looking into his eyes, then hugging him tight, which made Fernando’s annoyance from having to chase his son around completely dissolve, and he melted, hugging his boy. He could never get angry with his cute little man, especially when he reminded him so much of his younger self.
“Papá? Where’s Mamá?” Alejandro asked, looking around.
“Mamá is coming back soon, pollito,” he whispered, kissing his son’s cheek, “I’m missing her too.”
Fernando didn’t lose sight of Alejandro anymore, and when he had to leave for the press conference with other drivers, he left his PR manager to watch Alejandro while you had not come back. He was sitting on the sofa, answering questions but he still could watch Alejandro in a little chair on the opposite side of the room, beside the manager.
At some point, he noticed Alejandro getting fussy and pouty from staying in the same place alone for too long and looking fairly sleepy, Fernando could tell from one look.
“Alejandro,” Fernando called into the mic, the little boy looked around, hearing his dad’s voice, finally, he set his eyes on Fernando and jumped from the chair, “vente aquí.”
The boy took off, running towards his dad, eliciting a little “aw” from the journalists, and a lot of cameras following him until he got to his father, sitting on his lap, nuzzling into Fernando’s chest.
Fernando kept answering questions, and in a couple off minutes, Alejandro was fully asleep. Everyone started talking a little lower, as to not disturb the little one who was sleeping so calmly on his dad’s chest.
When the press conference was over, Fernando carried Alejandro inside his room, keeping his son on his lap, while he went through some data.
Finally when you came back, you found Alejandro on Fernando’s chest, his dad holding him tight while both of them took a little nap, looking so much like each other that it warmed your heart. You kissed both of their heads, running your fingers through Fernando’s hair to wake him up.
“Let’s go back to the hotel, so my pretty boys can eat and rest properly, yes?” You said, kissing Fernando softly, his eyes shining with so much adoration that he didn’t need to say the words, you could see the I love you. “Did you two behave?”
“Like angels!” Fernando winked, which told you that they probably had some Alonso Shenanigans today.
912 notes · View notes
kookslastbutton · 11 months
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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) || ch.I
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✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.
Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader
AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 4,187
Warnings: 8-year age gap, mentions of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), flirty banter, fighting, jk has a bit of a temper, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues
Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, Heaven+
A/N: Okay I have been having such baby fever for last few years no joke. I wanna be mom or aunty but my sister won’t have kids yet! So i write this lame series to cope even though it's lowkey sad? lmao. Enjoy!! 🥰
༓ ch. II >> | series masterlist
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You’re not exactly sure when it happened but one minute you’re crouched over, sketching in your journal and the next, a child with big brown eyes comes up beside you to watch over your shoulder. He’s a cute little fella, you note. Can't be more than four years old. His hair is ink-black and on the longer side. He’s got on a pair of black and white checkered pants, navy blue sweatshirt, and a toy snug under one arm. At first glance, you struggle to make out the toy but it looks like an elephant.
“Hi…” His hand reaches for you. It tugs the edge of your dress sleeve before reaching down to latch onto a few fingers. You smile up at the child, warmth immediately beaming through your heart.
“Hi sweetheart,” you say. “What’s your name?” You wait for the boy to answer but he doesn’t. Instead, he shuffles down next to you on the grass and points to your drawing. His delicate eyebrows knit together in an inquisitive manner. “What is this?” he asks.
You look down at your drawing, examining it from various angles. It's unfinished but you're working on a sketch of the pond nearby. You've managed to capture the sun-kissed water but the sky needs more work. Being the weekend, you couldn't give up the rare opportunity to indulge in your favorite hobby. “It’s the pond with all the colorful leaves,” you reply.
Blank face, the child thinks before speaking again. “Who taught you?”
Now that's an interesting question. Drawing had always been in your blood since a child. You fell in love with the ability to let your imagination run wild on paper whether it be on the back of your homework or even cardboard. To you, drawing was freedom and discovery. It allowed you to express emotion, memories, abstract thoughts, and to recreate the real world. You typically preferred sketching with drawing pencils but occasionally dabbled with watercolors. You had a gift for it–a natural gift.
By the time high school rolled around, you tended to hole up in the art room, sketching for as long as you could. Your art teacher suggested you go to school for it come senior year which gave you enough push to bring it up to your parents. Determined, you spoke to your parents about it but it was null–art could only be a hobby, it couldn’t support your future. They suggested you go to school for economics or finance instead. You nearly hurled at the idea but you eventually agreed, knowing they’d never pay for you to go to art school. Drawing, as you found out, had to be on the side.
"I had a teacher once in school," you say. "But I mostly learned myself."
The child tilts his head to the side, a puzzled look on his face. “You?”, he says.
You nod your head in affirmation.
“No way! Even I have art teacher.”
You chuckle lightly and move to stand up from the grass, needing to stretch due to your crouched position. He follows suit, still clinging to your hand. “Where you going, Eomma?”
Eomma...That's a name you don't get called often. You're not used to being seen as the mom type. In fact, when you tied the knot with Jungkook, the two of you agreed that having a family was a grey area. You both liked kids, sure, but being parents? That was a subject neither of you seriously considered. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” you coo. “I’m not your Eomma. But, let’s find her together, okay?”
The child shakes his head, refusing to budge. "Mm no," he says, clinging to your leg. "Wanna stay with you." Your heart skips a beat. Children don't typically take to you like this. It causes something inside of you to want to lunge down and pick up the child in a tight embrace. But you nip that thought in the bud when you catch sight of a woman roughly your age jogging toward you. She looks like the child’s mother.
“Si-woo!” She gives a wave. "Si-woo come here!"
“Eomma!” The child’s cheeks rise into a big grin as he watches his mom approach nearer. He lets go of your leg but his hand remains locked in your own. You end up squeezing Si-woo’s tiny hand but then, like a bitter aftertaste, you remember– he doesn’t belong to you. You loosen your grip and allow him to run back to his mom.
“It was nice meeting you Si-woo!” There’s a hint of sadness in your tone but you do your best to brush it off. You only knew Si-woo for a short while and now he’s back with his real mom. You should be happy but when Si-woo’s mom lifts her son, she gives you a scowl. She doesn’t even come up to say anything to you but turns around and carries her son back to their picnic area. You frown realizing you were merely a stranger who little kids are told not to talk to.
You sigh and glance at your unfinished drawing. Suddenly, you don’t feel like drawing anymore. You pack up your belongings in your bag and head to your car, the event replaying in your mind.
You can’t blame Si-woo’s mom for being a little rigid, you think. You’d share a similar reaction with your own kids if you had any–if you had any. You repeat the phrase unexpectedly. Were you warming up to the idea? Your marriage did recently surpass the two-year mark, perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to consider having…no, you mentally stop yourself. Yes, Si-woo was cute but it likely wouldn't happen. You toss your bag of art supplies in the back seat and drive home.
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“Jungkook! You here?” You step into your shared apartment and drop your bag on the kitchen counter. The smell of burnt wax mixed with vanilla bean hits you as soon as you walk into the living room. “Jungkook you better be home or these candles are going in the trash!” You really didn’t mind the candles but your husband had a nasty habit of keeping them lit even when you were both out of the house. He didn’t do it on purpose, of course, it was accidental but it was too much of a fire hazard to ignore.
“Kook!” you holler again, but no reply. These damn candles. You snuff them out one by one before venturing into the bedroom. Thankfully none were lit in there. You reach behind your back and unzip your dress, letting it pile around your feet. It's a beautiful dress but you were dying to get into a pair of sweat shorts and a t-shirt.
“Hey honey,” Jungkook says, emerging from the bathroom with damp hair and a towel tied around his waist. You let out a yelp before making eye contact. You've always been easily startled. “How was the park?”
Mentally, you bite your lip. This man was getting sexier every day, especially with that gold band wrapped around his fourth finger. You toss a t-shirt over your head. “Absolutely wonderful. Been a while since I’ve been able to really focus and draw. I loved every second." Should you mention the child? You pause, briefly contemplating the thought. Why not? "A really cute kid came up to watch me draw too…’til his mother took him away.” You don't notice but you nearly spat the last part.
Jungkook lets out a small snort, amused by your sudden irritation. There were many things he knew you could put up with, a resilient woman you were. But whoever this kid’s mother was must have gotten under your skin in the most unusual way. “It’s great you had a good time but you sound borderline offended about whoever this kid’s mother is.”
“It’s nothing really.” You shrug. “The kid came up to me and grabbed my hand. We had a nice talk but then his mom showed up. She didn’t even say hi to me. She just picked up her son and scowled at me like I took him or something. Believe me, I get it. But I didn’t do anything!”
“Don’t think about it too much __. She was probably just worried about getting her son back. I’m sure she did mean anything.”
“I guess. But do I really look that harmful?” You face your husband, hands perfectly poised on your hips.
Jungkook strides over to you and strokes down your arms until your hands relax to your sides. He gives you a quick peck on the lips. “Yes.”
Surprised, your mouth falls open. How dare he?! You give a pout, one that Jungkook finds especially irresistible. “Then you can keep your hands and lips off me for the rest of the night, Mr. Jeon.” You wiggle out of his grasp.
“That’s what I’ve been telling you for the past four years Ms. y/l/n. But you couldn’t stay away, could you? Just had to marry your hot professor, you naughty girl.” Jungkook grabs you again, pressing himself against your torso. You squeal at the contact. Married for two years and you’re still a blushing mess, get it together __!
“I wasn’t the one who was grabbing my student’s ass after class halfway through the first semester,” you quip, gripping his biceps. “I’m innocent.”
“Oh honey, nonono. You don’t get to play the role of a shy little angel who got eaten by her big bad wolf of a professor day one of university. You were already a master's student when we met. You knew what you were getting into when you started wearing tight little skirts to my class.”
You roll your eyes. “C’mon I had leggings underneath and I wore sweaters. If you’re accusing me of seducing you through my wardrobe then you have a very odd way of getting turned on.”
“Honey, how long have you known me? Sure tits and ass are cool and I won’t say no if you wanna show me.” You give a light shove on his shoulder at that, Jungkook chuckles. “But I have a doctorate in economics. Nothing catches my interest more than a studious individual like yourself studying all the angles of supply and demand. Plus, I liked your sweaters. Made me curious what you were hiding.”
“Oh stop it!” You end up giggling at your husband’s beyond-cheesy explanations. “How am I supposed to know my economics professor was ogling my teddy bear sweater for fuck sake?”
Jungkook throws his head back, feigning frustration. “It wasn’t a teddy bear sweatshirt. It was a bunny and it was very cute!”
“Whatever. Point is, I’m not the one to blame. I was a good student getting her master’s like her parents wanted until she found out her professor was sculpted from the gods themselves. Your shirts were barely fitting you. I swore they were going to bust one of those class periods.” You imagine the horrified look your peers would give. Not you though, you'd probably start drawing him. Shameless, really.
“As I recall that shirt-busting happened many times by your claws. I had to replace a dozen shirts in a month from how many you destroyed.” A pair of manly hands sensually trace down your sides. Jungkook leans forward, lips near your ear. “Seems like you had a lot of pent-up energy.” He nips your ear before peppering small kisses down your neck.
“You have no idea.“ You close your eyes, a moan escaping from you. "Professor–"
Jungkook grunts, suddenly suckling on the sensitive skin. “Mmm you haven’t called me that in a while. Kinda missed it”, he says, backing you up against the dresser. You were about to hop on top when your ass hit the edge but a rude, obnoxious ringing pulled Jungkook off you.
“Hey man!” Your husband answers the phone, a little too joyous in your opinion. You knew exactly who it was on the phone–Park Jimin. You bite your cheek, doing your best to keep down a sour face.
“Yeah let me ask __. Hold on.” Jungkook looks at you. “Honey, Jimin wants us to go out to dinner with the guys. You wanna go or stay in?”
Maybe, you think. You love Jimin but his dinners are usually quite elaborate. He always makes reservations to the fanciest restaurants in Seoul, and he required everyone to be dressed to the hills. It was fun now and then but did you have the energy for that tonight? Eh. What the hell. “Sure. What time?”
Jungkook passes on your inquiry before looking at you again. “6 p.m.” You nod in consent and walk to your closet, rummaging through your clothes for something Jimin-worthy. “Alright man, we’ll see you there. Yeah got it, k bye.” Jungkook hangs up the phone and watches you pull out dress shirts, pants, blazers, literally all your work clothes. “Found anything?” he pipes up.
You pull out a dark green dress, above knee-length, and gorgeously hemmed. “I’m pretty sure I wore this last time but–“
“Next," Jungkook interrupts. "Jimin will notice and you know how he gets when people wear the same outfit twice in a row.” your husband fiddles with through his own dresser drawers, yanking out an oversized t-shirt. You groan knowing all too well how tight Jimin ran this operation. One time Namjoon came in the same maroon dress shirt as before causing Jimin to have an absolute fit. He even made the man go home and change. Dinner was late that night.
“Yeah, you’re right.” You rummage through your closet again hoping to find something tucked in the back. There’s bound to be something. “Damnit, I thought I had more than this,” you grunt, finding nothing.
“Do we need to go on a last-minute shopping trip?” Jungkook throws on a pair of cargo pants.
You groan internally. Shopping isn't your favorite activity. It always took so long, and nothing was to your liking. You prefer online shopping but with only three hours until dinner and apparently nothing in your wardrobe, you suppose it's inescapable.
“Come on, honey.” Jungkook combs through his hair with a few fingers and grabs his wallet from the nightstand. “This is for Jimin."
"Alright, let me put some jeans on.” Jimin, you bougie little punk.
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You view yourself in the dressing room mirror, a plum-colored dress adorning your body. This is the tenth dress you've tried on and to be honest, you feel pretty good in it. Nothing feels itchy, too snug, or out of place. The dress was a simple, strapless sheath dress and it fit you like a glove.
"__." Jungkook taps on the door. "You're not gonna like what I have to say but it's inevitable…there's been a change of plans."
"Okay," you reply with strain. "What is it?" You unlock the door to find your husband glancing down at his phone. It's a text from Jimin, you notice.
"Sorry for this but we're not going out for dinner tonight. Seokjin's daughter isn't feeling well so they're going to stay home. Yoongi also hasn't been able to get much time with his kids and wife lately so he's not coming either." Jungkook continues reading Jimin's text aloud. "I don't think we should go out without the whole party so I'm thinking about canceling our reservations."
Damn.
"You look beautiful," he says, catching your half-disappointed expression. "I'm sorry."
"It's no big deal," you sigh. "We'll eat in." From Jungkook's point of view, you were upset about wasting an hour and a half on shopping. He knew you'd much rather be back with your drawing pencils or watching a drama. He felt bad. The real reason, the one you think best to keep to yourself, however, is that hearing Jimin's text reminded you of Si-woo again. Further, it reminded you that nearly everyone in your friend group had at least one kid except you and Jungkook. Normally it didn't affect you though, so why did it today? Had the little kid from earlier really stuck with you that much?
"__? Everything alright?," Jungkook says. "I know we had plans and we've been shopping for a while but if you like the dress you should still get it. Jimin will have his dinner again and there will be other times you'll need it."
It takes you a moment but you reply, forcing a fake smile the best you can. "Oh yeah, yeah I'm good. I dazed off for a second there. I'll–I'll put the dress back actually."
Seeing through your facade, Jungkook lightly grips your arms. "If there's something you're not telling me I'd like to know, please?"
His endearing facial expression both soothes you and creates coils of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. You want to tell him what's up. You also want to pop the question that you've both been sweeping under the rug for the last two years. But how? Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe you're just in a mood today.
"Have–" You start but the rest of the words don't come out.
Jungkook waits for you to finish the sentence. "Have you thought of any ideas for dinner?" You stutter out. "'Cause I was thinking it’d be easier to order takeout tonight."
Eyes narrowing, your husband stares into your eyes. He's searching for any hint that you're bluffing–shifty eyes and such. You think he's caught onto you until his shoulders relax and eyebrows soften. "I was thinking the same thing. But also, I'm buying you this dress even if you don't. It's gorgeous on you and I know you want it. Now take it off and let's go find something to eat."
You manage to chuckle a "thank you" and slip back into the stall to change into your normal clothes. You feel a slight pang of guilt in your gut for not coming clean to him but you weren't sure if you were ready to tell him the truth no more than he'd be ready to hear it.
“Seriously honey.” Jungkook’s voice carries over the stall. “Are you really alright? Do you need anything?” You swallow hard at his persistence.
“I’m perfectly fine,” you reply. “Maybe a little hungry.” One day at a time __, you think.
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You end up placing a dinner order at a local favorite nearby. You and Jungkook take it back to the apartment, curl up on the couch, and put a movie on. You nearly fall asleep after the first forty minutes because the plot is so utterly dry and quite frankly, boring. Jungkook seems to be enjoying it though so the movie plays the entire way through.
Still hardly paying attention, your mind drifts off to other affairs. You think about your upcoming work week, what to get for your best friend's birthday in the following few weeks, and the cute dog you saw yesterday, and of course, you loop back to the same lingering topic–your brief afternoon with Si-woo. Part of you wanted to take him home but Jungkook would have a fit, as well as you know...Si-woo's mother. You snort at how interested you've become in entertaining thoughts about children and taking care of them. As you've covered before, you aren't the mom type.
Si-woo and his mother looked very similar though. They shared the same hair color, eyes, and face shape. You wonder what his father looked. Did he have long hair too? Did he share the same lips? Before you can stop yourself from going further you wonder how identical your own child might be to you and Jungkook. Would your child love the arts like you or the social sciences like your husband? You suppose it could be a blend since you technically have a master's in economics yourself. You'd much rather be owning and operating an art museum or being a studio art professor but that's beside the point. Your child would be free to venture down their own path. That is if you have any.
You shift your eyes to Jungkook who's concentrating heavily on the movie. He's a wonderful husband, you sigh, full of love. No doubt he'd make a great father but did he want to? Jungkook never really mentioned it before and neither did you. When you first start dating you had a brief talk about children and building a family but you were still in school then and Jungkook was swamped with his teaching responsibilities. Children weren't something that either of you felt like you could handle at the time. After you'd gotten married there was an opportunity to discuss it again but you were both quite comfortable with it being just the two of you. Today is the first day you've shown any serious aversion to your comfortable lifestyle–you want a baby.
Once the credit scenes appear Jungkook feels your eyes burn through him from your lounged position. "You're making that face again," he says.
"There's no face."
"Yes there is."
"I don't think so."
Patience running thin, the tone in your husband's voice gets firmer. He's not angry but it's clear his temper is rising. You and Jungkook haven't had a spat in a while and you really don't want to start now. "I can see that there's something on your mind. It's the same one you had from the dressing room and I'm pretty sure it isn't about food this time."
"I don't know what you want me to say," you mumble tiredly. You sit up straight. "My face is my face."
"Honey, I know there's something going on that you're not telling me. Is this about that kid's mother from earlier? Because I'm certain it wasn't personal."
"No, it's not about that at all. It's just been a long week and I'm exhausted," you lie, yawning as if on queue. Jungkook grips the couch arm in agitation. He isn't sure what's going on but he isn't letting you go to bed without getting to the bottom of it.
"You're not having second thoughts about our marriage are you?" He throws the idea out there, hoping its obvious inaccuracy will push you to tell him the truth. You grimace at the guess.
"That's ridiculous!" You sneer. "How could you think that?"
"Well maybe because you're not telling me anything else?" Jungkook tosses his hands up. "I mean who knows, it could be anything. Was it the movie? Shopping? Are you horny? What the fuck is it?!" You jump at his sudden outburst.
"No it's none of those–"
"Look," Jungkook cuts shortly. "Will you just tell me so we can deal with it?!" You throw him a nasty look.
"Just deal with it? Like it's some kind of nuisance of an issue that needs treatment?" You jump up from the couch and head to your bedroom in a fury, your husband hot on your trail.
"I don't mean to be pissing you off, sweetheart but I know something's up." He follows you into the bathroom, watching you reach for your toothbrush. "Can you please slow down and talk to me?" He grabs the toothpaste before you can, forcing you to stop in your tracks. You feel your body starting to shake, eyes tearing up. You friggin' hate fighting and you hate being so unsure about telling him the truth–that you want a family. You're scared of his response most. What if he says no?
Realizing your nervous state, Jungkook takes a deep breath and softens his tone. He hates seeing you cry and he hates it even more when he's the one causing it. "I'm sorry honey." He steps towards you but you flinch away. You're not ready to be touched yet.
"I–I want...I want to be a mom. I want a baby." You wait for your husband's reaction and when it comes you instantly start bawling.
"A baby? What do you mean you want a baby?" Jungkook feels everything inside of him panicking. There's a reason he teaches economics to college students and not high schoolers or below. He doesn't do children, he isn't cut out for it. He'll babysit of his hyung's kids from time to time but at the end of the day, they aren't coming back home with him. Jungkook was sure his wife felt the same way but now? Now she's tearing up in front of him, scared to tell him she wants a child–one that will be his.
Jungkook takes you into his arms, his thumb wipes off some of your tears. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't know. When you came home from the park I didn't realize that little boy meant so much to you." You try blinking back your tears but they keep running down your face. He's being gentle with you and you appreciate that but his choice of words tells you his answer is no. It's quiet, subtle, and cuts like a knife.
You break away from him to splash cold water on your face. The coolness calms your nerves. “He didn’t. Never–never mind what I said, sorry. I’m tired and I’m probably not thinking straight.” You leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook scrambling for his thoughts.
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A/N: Lmk what you think, tysm for stopping by 💞
Masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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lovers-rck · 4 months
Text
bubble gum
summary ellie hids something in her notebook
content friends to lovers, ellie williams x fem!reader
"do you want to see that movie that i told you about?"
you make a face, looking at the weird pink thing on the ceiling "is that gum?"
ellie follow your gaze and cringe "i don't know what you are talking about"
"that, on your ceiling"
"there's nothing in the ceiling" she says, avoiding your gaze and playing with her pen.
"yeah there is!" you replie "look there"
"maybe you are high"
"what? that makes zero... whatever"
ellie's face displays a victorious smile as she keeps drawing in her sketchbook "so... you want to see that movie? jesse told me that was super scary"
you were laying down in ellie's bed, outside was raining. you kept looking at the gum in the ceiling as you scrunched your nose "i don't know. im not in the mood for a scary movie"
ellie rolled her eyes. she had already seen the movie, but maybe if she pretended not to have seen it before to watch it with you maybe, just maybe, you would snuggle up to her in the scary parts. or whatever.
"pussy" she murmurs. her pencil traces long sketches on the rough paper
"you are so annoying" you say as you sit in the bed, finger brushing your hair "what are you drawing?"
ellie shakes her head "nothing" she is sitting at the head of the bed, with her back against the wall. some thread of hair are resting in her face, tickling her skin, and you have the urge to put those annoying locks behind her ear.
but you don't.
"let me see" you say
you crawl between the sheets, sitting across from ellie, who is holding the sketchbook strangely tightly.
"it's just doodles"
"okay" you replie "i want to see them"
"is shit"
"all your work is shit to you" you rolled your eyes "i never get to see your drawings"
"you are so noisy, has anyone ever told you that?" ellie says
you stick out your tongue playfully and when ellie laughs you grab her sketchbook quickly. ellie is quick too and lunges at you, your body getting pinned between the mattress and ellie's body.
you two become a jumble of wrestling arms and hands "give it back" ellie yells, half laughing half angry "no!" you scream, holding the sketchbook above your head "bitch!" you yell when ellie bites your shoulder
you hear ellie's laugh and take that opportunity to open the sketchbook above her head, where she can't reach in that position.
you always wanted to see what ellie did in that notebook, always curled up in the pages sketching something. you noticed how she always carried a pen and that notebook everywhere she goes, drawing something time to time.
so your surprise is genuine when you go through the pages and find various drawings of you.
you laughing with jesse. you with some dogs. you and that stupid frog stuffed animal she gave you. you smiling. and the most recent sketch, half way finished; you laying down in her bed, just like you were a couple minutes ago.
the drawings are beautiful, quickly but really good studies of you. if you squint your eyes a bit, you can see where she erased some lines to redraw them more accurately.
you flinch when ellie's hand interrupt your surprise by grabbing and closing the notebook. she moves away from you and you sit down.
ellie is sitting a couple inches away from you, avoiding your gaze and hugging that sketchbook like a kid hugging her favorite toy.
your lack of words was not exactly due to the drawings. you knew that this was normal and that ellie used to draw people she knew, you were in moments where she decided to walk away and draw the moment, immortalizing it on paper.
your lack of words was due to what the scribbles and words around the drawings meant. little hearts, short confessions of love and silly doodles were the things your eyes could decipher in the short seconds you held the notebook in your hands.
"ellie"
"i told you that they were stupid drawings" she replied, her voice tinged with rage and shame.
she felt idiot. too idiot to fall in love with her friend . too dumb to draw her friend when she was distracted, trying to capture every tiny detail that make you special with a stupid pen in a stupid notebook. too idiot to think about you in that way.
"they are not" you murmur
"yes they are" she feels so ashamed "i should throw this thing to the trash can"
you feel how angry and ashamed she is and your mind just can think of the dumbest or smartest response that has ever you occurred.
so you kiss her.
you fingertips feel the soft skin of her cheeks as you press your lips against hers. you don't move, too afraid to do something, so for a couple of seconds your lips just stay there, warming eachothers flesh.
when you feel that you had made the stupidest decision ever you move away, panicking and mumbling sorry's. your hands leaves ellie's cheeks, to embarrassed to even look at her.
"im sorry" you murmur "im sorry ellie. i don't know who gave me the right to do that. im sorry" you look at the door of her room "maybe i should go. sorry"
but before you can go, ellie kisses you back. her grip is more stronger that yours, her hand resting in the back of your head, moving you against her.
she moves her lips this time. her mouth moves against yours, deepening the kiss quickly. hungry.
she pushes you closer to her, moving you in a way that you end up in her lap, with your hands in her neck, kissing her like your life depends on it.
you can feel the same response from her. her hands are everywhere, squeezing and touching and caressing every part of your body as fast as she can, too excited to keep her hands in one place.
a few moments later you move away from your mouth, searching for air. she looks at you.
everything is very awkward for a couple of seconds before you two start laughing.
ellie's chest moves as she laughs with embarrassment "god" she mouths
you laugh too "confessing your love for me trough drawings" you say "fucking drama queen"
ellie hide her face with her hands "shut up. im embarrassed"
"as you should"
"idiot" she murmurs, taking her hands off her face "can i kiss you again?"
you roll your eyes.
but you nod.
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hana-no-seiiki · 7 months
Text
but like . . . yandere loser vampire partner that somehow doesn’t have game even after 200 years of living. and dom reader why not we miss em.
the only thing going for them are their looks, extensive knowledge about niche topics, and natural body glitter (like omfg i would become a vampire myself if it means im permanently covered in shimmer-)
they were in most of your classes in university but never appeared unless it was for exams. apparently they had a ‘skin condition that made them extremely sensitive to the sun’ and were therefore excused for classes. a student was usually paid to hand them notes.
that student was your friend. they were a bit of a bum if you were being quite honest. the only thing that urged them to complete the job was money. but after being too lazy to do it so many times, the job was thrown over to you to agonize on.
you quickly find out that your friend was underplaying the pay significantly after the first check. this student must have been the kid of a rich billionaire cause goddamn you didn’t know who the hell else would pay a grand for every subject you completed.
i’d say that you feel kind of bad receiving all this money and therefore improved your note-taking skills out of the kindness of your heart but i mean c’mon you’re reading from my blog- you definitely tweaked it just to earn more of that sweet cash. even drawing doodles at the wee hours of the night and little mnemonics you thought up.
yan sees the effort you put and begins subconsciously keeping your notes in better places. they find themselves grinning like a madman whenever they see that one character you drew that dumbs down some parts that might be too difficult to understand. you even provided translations in subjects that use two or more languages.
yan, despite being already down atrocious for you, never makes the initiative to meet up. they have however, already made extensive research on you. so much so that they’ve made several papers on just your magnificent self.
and so came the time you offered to meet with them. mostly cause y’know, connections with a rich ass dude would be great, but also because you were curious to see who tf pays someone this much to go to school for them.
and you then you meet this socially awkward, super shy, speaks hella old and formal (insert preferred language/dialect here), and oh they’re like super fucking cute it’s actually making you have that sort of aggression you get from pets/toys.
oh.
you want to fuck this dude’s brains out alright.
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Text
His Eyes
Mihawk x gn!reader
Summary: you may dislike eye contact, but that doesn’t make his eyes any less mesmerizing
Content: some fluff, a little romance. They’re on a mission. Reader is autistic.
A/N: this is a shorter piece, just a snippet of an idea really, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So now I’m making you all think about it too! Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality, and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago.
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Dracule Mihawk. A great warlord of sea. A man so powerful that his very presence makes others stop and step back wherever he goes, who can freeze a person in place with just his intense, piercing gaze.
You love his gaze.
You love the color of his eyes, the way that lantern light plays across the striking yellow, bringing out those hints of gold. You love the shape of them, the way his eyebrows furrow, that little line that forms above his nose when he’s so focused. You love how he can seem to command a room with his gaze alone.
His eyes are mesmerizing.
“How is it you can stare at me, yet request I avoid the same?”
His words send a shiver through you, one that strengthens as he turns that gaze briefly your way. His arm is is draped carefully across the back of the tavern booth, his fingers just brushing your shoulder.
You shrug and smile—just a little smile, the one you practiced because you know it secretly makes him pleased, even if smiling doesn’t come naturally to you.
“It’s not like I command you,” you tease, even as you draw your knees closer to your chest to better balance your sketchbook and lean slightly into him. You like sitting like this, both because it lets you naturally look away when he does decide to stare at you, and because you love the feeling of his nearness as you lean slightly into his side.
“Hmm.” He turns his gaze away. You quickly peak up at him and are pleased to see the slightest twitch to his own lips, a hint of his own smile.
He’ll never show it, not here in this tavern where every other person subtly watches him. But it’s there, and you’ve enjoyed drawing it out of him since you started working together as temporary partners. Especially since you started to be something more…
You turn back to your own work, drawing your fountain pen across the thick sketchbook paper.
A line here. A small adjustment there. You let yourself fall into the art, even as you listen to the conversations murmuring around you.
The din of voices can be overwhelming at times, painful even when so many noises echo together, but useful. You’ve learned ways to manage it, found tools to let you block out the sound when it’s too much and learned how to sort through the sounds when you do have the energy for it.  Now you sit and listen, letting your art pull you slightly away from it all, even as snippets of conversation come and go.
“…can’t believe that seller cheated me! I…”
“…Mihawk here…?”
“…will drink you under the table…”
“…think Garp sent him? Does he know we…”
You still your pen, glancing only slightly up from the page. That conversation was from not too far away. The targets.
“You noticed them too,” comments Mihawk, in that eternally bored, yet oh so confident tone.
“What now?” you ask, turning your gaze back to your sketchbook. “Capture them here or flush them out?”
If you were working alone, you would probably wait for them to leave on their own, then follow them and complete the mission once away from all the noise and bustle of the tavern. But it’s fun to work Mihawk’s way as well, to see just what it is that makes him so simultaneously feared and respected. You find it fascinating how he toys with his targets at times, as if a job is simply a game to him. 
“It has been quiet lately. A chase might be entertaining.”
You grin, even as you carefully try to capture a slight shimmer of light in your sketch. 
This is the part you find so fascinating.
The way he can inspire or horrify people with just a glance. The way he moves so carefully and intentionally through his work, even as he sometimes treats it as a way to relieve the boredom of being truly the best. The way he knows how good he is, knows his power and wears it like a cloak.
You know the moment he turns his gaze from a casual analysis of the room to a hunter spotting its prey. 
It’s in the slight gasps as that muted conversation staggers to a halt. The sharp sense of fear that drifts through the tavern. The way Mihawk’s intense gaze cuts straight through the crowded tables and towards the targets, even as everyone else breathes in relief that it’s not aimed at them.
You’ve done this just enough times now to know that soon your targets will try to leave, try to flee.
Then it will be time to act.
For now though, you enjoy leaning into your warlord, carefully drawing your pen across a sketchbook page as you capture the dangerous beauty of his vivid eyes.
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unoriginal-and-dumb · 2 months
Text
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I am doing things I AM DOING THINGS I AM!
Explanations for designs and some head canons below here :3
Infected - Asian-American Autistic ADHD aroace (😈) trans. Yknow Wybie from Coraline? Yea like that but like incredibly annoying. His voice sounds like it’s coming from a shitty mic all the time
Lampert (design by @lucid-daydreaming-art )- Autistic 🇸🇪 ja aroace (😈) funny lamp guy Robots-esque probably kinda talks like baymax honestly, I mean a bit different but yknow, the general idea
(I talk about these 2 enough it’s the others turns)
Poob - I think they are a dumb little critter. They run around and their arms flail in the wind like paper. When they try to clap is makes dog toy squeaking sounds. I don’t think they abide by the rules of physics which is why they are stupid looking ❤️ they have hammer space but it is only for weed related items. The curator of the forever weed brownie, if you will. I think they sound like X from bfb. Aroace (😈)
Pest - literally hates poob because they are small and annoying. Uhhh funky legs because I think he would have funky legs. I stole his eyes because well no real reason, but I think if he was like extra pissed you would see his eyes. Since he is like thief maxxing I do not think he would be wearing anything beyond a hoodie and sweatpants, something trying to be non-assuming I guess. He has hair I think but it is very short no way would he want to deal with that. I don’t have a voice hc for him yet. Aroace (😈)
Bive - she a freakkkkk ehhh. I think she is like freakishly tall, has funny bird legs, raggedy ass scrawny tail, and is constantly covered in hair. Her teeth are kinda just floating on her hair head, so if you punched her hard enough they would just go flying out and she would have to put them back into her head silly girl. I think she is also trans hahaahhahahahaha!!! I think she kinda sounds like ENA from dream bbq, the uhh angry side I believe. Ace (😈)
Split - I gave her dog ears because I think they are cute :) she’s probably like normal ish height Bive is just weirdly tall. She looks very nice and friendly but could probably throw a boulder at you and you will die sowyyyy. Gods most chillaxxed soldier. She gives me kind older lady feelings, even if she weren’t older. I dunno she would be like one of those people who have a comically large purse full of hard candy except it would all be banana flavored. I think she has a slower voice, HAVENT gotten an exact idea for her voice yet but she seems very calm. Ace (😈)
Pilby - I didn’t really add or change their design because I already liked it a lot. I think they are very sweet and kind looking, would make a great plush too but I guess we are not ready to talk about that (YES I am still bitter about it) I think being around them is akin to looking outside a window at an apple orchard while it’s raining a bit. I think they sound a bit like raggedy Anne, based on the creators response too. Aroace (😈)
Spud! - I honestly did not have much come to me for his design, they are just a bit of a funky feller and im not sure how I would add to it honestly. Oh but I do think that they run like an ostrich and it is very scary. Also while drawing I was debating why he had a bow and decided that Gnarpy was like CONGRATZ IN ZURVIVING THE TEZTZ and now Spud! Just has a stupid little yuor did it ribbon. Honestly no clue for voice hc… aroace (😈)
Gnarpy - had a lot of fun with xis design honestly. The redesign reminded me a lot of Stitch so I kinda just shoved that into xim. I think they act a lot like Zim. Like a lot. Probably equally as stupid. I think xis second arms are retractable, like stitch, and xe uses that as a very very shitty disguise that everyone can see right through but just don’t mention because xe seems to be having a good time. I think xe sounds like Four from BFB (the earlier episodes mostly) aroace (😈)
DRRETRO - I think that her head that we see in the game is like a projection of herself, Wagstaff Don’t Starve style. Her body would be like excruciatingly normal besides her head, too. Like go to the hospital and see a nurse, that’s just what she looks like. Very normal, it’s a bit unnerving since her head is that. She’s like those overly friendly posters in a very uncomfortable place type of feeling. She doesn’t have fur either, she’s just a weird cat doctor thing. She acts exactly like Doctor Barber from Flapjack. No voice hc, but she speaks in meows so probably just meowing. Aroace (😈)
Mark - I started thinking about tf2 and Anton blast. Anyway, he is completely made from wood other than the clothes. Beard is carved in, not sure if I got that across in the drawing though. Uh yea I don’t have much I just really like engineer. He wears flannel and a construction vest just like any good law avoiding construction worker. Definitely does not so legal things on his construction sites but does not give two shits about that and also probably would try to employ Lampert when he was younger for free workers (no im not projecting what are you talking about). How on the nose would it be to say he sounds like engineer because I just drew wooden engineer with a beard. Ace (😈)
Wallter - sorry wallter fans I had no ideas while drawing him. I dunno he’s big and he’s cement, so I kept him blocky. Urrrrr he has a can of grey stuff jingle jingle. He is the cement embodiment of that one tweet that’s like “nothing better than a glass of wine, except for maybe #men. #yep #imgay! He kinda seems like one of those lowkey scary bald gay guys who are nice but are also scary and still bald. He’s bald. No idea on voice maybe concrete sliding on asphalt for 10 hours. Ace (😈)
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stop-talking · 2 months
Text
You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 2)
Mike Schmidt x fem reader
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2.2k words
Tags: 18+, mike x fem reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, fluff, babysitting Abby. (no smut... yet.)
Part 1 Part 3
─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────
Mike calls you up to ask a favor for the 2nd night in a row. He hates having to resort to you, his ex for Christ's sake, but he has no other choice. Besides, after last night... maybe he doesn't hate it so much.
"Again?" You ask, feigning annoyance. "What, did your usual babysitter fuck off and die?"
Mike winces at that. "I hope not. I can't really afford anyone else right now."
"And why do you expect me to come be your free labor, Schmidt?"
"Because I'll owe ya one?"
"You already owe me one from last night."
"..."
"I'll owe you two."
You scoff in an attempt to cover a laugh. Damnit. Why did he have to be so charming?
"Fine. But we are not making a habit of this."
"We aren't. I promise. I'll look for a new babysitter this weekend. I just can't leave Abby alone overnight."
"That's a strange way of saying you can't go another minute without me."
"You're delusional, woman."
"A delusional woman you owe two favors, Mikey. Be careful throwing insults."
Now it's Mike's turn to stifle a laugh. He coughs in a feeble attempt at covering it up.
"What, catching a cold?"
"No. You just make me sick."
"Stop flirting with me and hang up already."
Mike does just that, slamming the corded landline phone back into it's holster. The little smiley face sticker Abby stuck to it years ago seems to taunt him almost as much as you just did. He sighs, leaning against the counter and wondering how he got himself into this mess. He shouldn't enjoy it so much when you toy with him like this. That's all it was, he was being played with. But damn it, after being lonely so long... he'd take what he could get.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
You arrive at his house around half an hour later, annoyed at the prospect of crashing on his couch for the 2nd night in a row. You try to make your displeasure evident with a scowl as he opens the door, but when you see the way he's gawking at you...
"Stop staring. It's rude." You can't help but smirk slightly as you scold him, he's just so easy to mess with.
"Did you really have to dress like a slut just to babysit?" Mike hisses as you set down your things, taking in your outfit. A pair of shorts that you'd definitely be cold in, and a white tank top. Of course, you had a hoodie too, but it was unzipped, and he was more focused on what it didn't cover.
"Hey, last time you said..." Mike nods to the kitchen, and you trail off as you notice the girl sitting and coloring at the table. Abby. Oh. Right.
"You're not in any position to judge my clothing choices, Mikey."
Mike shivers as you whisper in his ear. What exactly is that supposed to mean? His clothes are fine, right? He studies his hoodie and jeans, then shakes himself and grits his teeth as he follows you into the kitchen.
"Look! Mike drew this one!" Abby excitedly shoves a piece of paper in your face as you sit down at the kitchen table with her. It's a sketch of a forest, pine trees and shrubs. It's actually rather well drawn, and you take a minute to look over it.
"It's nice, but you're the better artist for sure." You slide the paper back over to her and give Mike a teasing smile as he sits down across from you, on the other side of Abby.
"Oh, I know." She turns her attention back to her own drawing, another one of Mike. And... wait, was that...? No, it couldn't be...?
"Abby, what are you drawing?" Mike asks the question before you can, craning his neck to get a better look at her paper.
"You." She responds vaguely, still scribbling away.
"Okay, but what exactly is he doing?" You ask, scooting closer to her for a better look.
"And what am I wearing?"
"A suit. It's your wedding." Abby casually drops a bomb on you both, still not even bothering to look up from her paper. Wedding? Mike?
"You're engaged?" You turn to the dumbfounded older Schmidt, and discreetly scan his hands, looking for a ring.
"N-no? What? Abby, I'm not getting married." He finally sputters, face flushed a light shade of pink.
Abby doesn't respond, still focused on her drawing. Now that you're sure what it is, you can totally see it. The red isle. The benches. Mike, wearing... something that sort of resembles a suit, if you squint. And... a bride. You nearly choke when you spot her.
"Abbs, who's that?" You ask, pointing a shaky finger at the bride, who almost looks familiar...
"You."
"..."
Mike gives you a look, and you both quickly excuse yourselves from the table.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
"Seriously, Mike? First you tell her I'm a witch, then you tell her I'm your fiancé? Make up your goddamn mind." You scowl at him and zip up your hoodie as he closes the door behind you. The night air is chilly, and you're almost starting to regret the shorts. Almost.
Mike returns your scowl as he leans against a wall. His porch isn't exactly the best hang out spot, but you two needed to speak privately after Abby's little comment.
"I didn't tell her you're my fiancé." He growls, speaking firmly. Must be trying to make up for the way he was totally blushing earlier.
"So what, then? She just made it up?"
"Come on..." He groans, burying his face in his hands and letting the tough act fall for a moment. "You know how she is..."
It was true, his sister was... weird. He still loved her obviously, more than anyone, especially his stupid ex-girlfriend. But she was certainty different from other kids, made evident by the fact she spent more time talking to imaginary people than Mike.
"Seriously... I didn't fuckin' say that..." Mike wasn't a very good liar. But this wasn't lying, right? He'd never explicitly told Abby he was going to marry you, but he definitely humored her when she asked about it way back when you two were dating. He'd told her maybe. Maybe. To a kid, that meant yes.
"You sure, Mikey? Don't have a ring hidden away somewhere, waiting to pop the question?" You cross your arms and scoff, but it's hard to be angry when this whole thing is so amusing. Abby definitely had a wild imagination, but she wouldn't just make up something like that out of nowhere. There had to be more to this.
"Hell no. I'd rather die alone than marry a witch." He practically spits in anger, but he's more angry at himself than you or Abby. He should have shut Abby down immediately when she asked about marriage... especially considering the relationship hardly lasted 3 months. But, well, he was a lovesick fool. Way back then. Not anymore.
"Pfft. Fine. Have fun at work, Honey." You taunt him as you head back inside, and you can hear him grumble more than a few curses in response.
Little sisters and ex-girlfriends, man. Mike wanted to scream.
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
You nearly choke on your glass of water as Abby drops yet another bomb on you.
"C-can you repeat that?" You ask, coughing.
"Will you teach me witch stuff? You know, cursing people?" Abby blinks up at you innocently. Damn these Schmidts and their big brown puppy eyes.
"Please? When you lifted the curse from Mike, it really worked!" She insists eagerly. "He colored with me!"
You watch as she proudly holds up Mike's drawing of a forest. She must really treasure it.
"I... uh... why do you want to learn witchcraft, Abby?"
Abby cocks her head at the question. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Fair enough." You laugh and shake your head. This kid.
"Alright... but we can't do witchery on empty stomachs. What do you want to eat?"
・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・
When Mike quietly slips back into the house at the crack of dawn, he nearly trips over his own feet when he sees the state of his kitchen table.
"The fuck happened here?" He mutters, picking up one of the many papers strewn across the table. The weird markings all over it vaguely resembled hieroglyphics, not that he was an expert on those. The part that really concerned him, though, was the circle of candles in the center of the table.
They weren't lit, thankfully, but they looked like they had been. Damn it. Those were for emergencies. Like the time he forgot to pay the power bill.
"Too tired for this shit." He gives up on trying to decipher whatever-the-fuck you and Abby did, and makes his way into the living room. He pauses yet again when he sees you sleeping on the couch. Was that his blanket? And pillow? From his bed? Damn infuriating woman.
"Get up." He gives your shoulder a shake, not bothering to be gentle. He doesn't have the patience right now.
"Nngh... 5 more minutes." Ugh. You sound just like Abby.
"Don't be a bum." He rips the blanket off of you, then immediately regrets it when he remembers just how little you're wearing. Your tank top had shifted, almost completely exposing your... fuck, he shouldn't stare.
"Don't you have work?" He grumbles, flopping down in his recliner and pointedly looking away from your body.
"Nah... It's my day off." You sit up and stretch, planting your feet on the floor and reaching up to the sky as you lean back against the couch. Either you don't notice that one of your breasts has fallen out of your tiny top, or you just don't care. Mike clears his throat and looks away again. Fuck. He's definitely blushing.
"Oh, shit." With a casual hand, you tuck your breast back into the tank top. Must have moved around a lot. Damn uncomfortable couch.
"You wanna explain why it looks like I hosted a cult meeting in my kitchen?" Mike snaps, finally able to focus.
"Hey, you're the one who convinced Abby I'm a witch. Not my fault the promise of learning a spell is such an effective way of getting her to eat dinner."
Mike furrows his brow at that. You got her to eat dinner? Two nights in a row? That's an accomplishment. "...Fine. But please, clean up your mess next time. I have to take her to school in a couple hours, and if the table is-"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll clean it up. Let me get some coffee first, jeez." You brush him off and make your way into the kitchen. He still has the same shitty coffee maker that looks like it belongs in an antique store. And no creamer, because Mike hates joy.
"You want a cup too?"
"I shouldn't. Gotta go to sleep after I drop Abby off at school." He grunts from the other room, and you can hear him getting out of the old creaky recliner he loves so much.
"Ah. Night shift."
"Yeah. Night shift."
Mike shuffles into the kitchen and you both stand there awkwardly for a few moments as the coffee brews.
"You don't really look like you sleep, you know." You remark, taking in his ever-present eyebags for the hundredth time.
"Yeah, well, I do. Sleeping is just so... tiring." He scoffs, making light of the situation. He's telling the truth, though. Sleep for him is more of a project than real rest. His eyes glaze over as he gets lost in thought for a moment.
"You good, Mike?" He flinches as you place a hand on his shoulder. He wasn't expecting that from you.
"Yeah, uh, just..."
"Tired?"
"Yeah."
You sigh and decide to let it go, turning your attention to the mess on the kitchen table instead. He didn't owe you an explanation, especially now that you're not together, but it was still frustrating. He's obviously dealing with something, probably a lot of somethings, and he's too stubborn to admit it. That stubbornness is gonna be the end of him, you swear. It was what ended your relationship. Partially.
"Here, I'll help." Mike fumbles to help you pick up papers and crayons, colored pencils and candles. After a few minutes, it doesn't look like such a disaster.
"Oh, by the way." You pour yourself a cup of coffee, and start to stir in a few spoons of sugar. Too much sugar, for Mike's taste. "Abby's little blue dolphin stuffed animal is invisible to you now, got it? As long as it's in the house, grown-ups can't see it. I think she put it in your room to test you. Just ignore it."
"Is that what you two were doing?" Mike leans back against the counter and scoffs, but makes a mental note to ignore the little dolphin from now one. He'd humor her, if it meant she'd eat her dinner.
"I don't know? I panicked, okay? I had to think of something harmless but still believable and exciting for a little kid."
"And 'invisible stuffed animal' was the best you could think of?"
"This is a warning. Find a new goddamn babysitter or I'm teaching her curses next. And you have to play along."
Mike can't help but smile at that. A real smile.
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Already workin' on the next part don't worry <3
Edit: Part 3
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