#it was my first space background from scratch

[mx-cottoncandy]

A Wizard's Promise

Two space wizards: one of void, one of vast. A promise between them.

(I may not know their names yet, but I really like their designs.)

#my ocs #space #concept work #space wizard #black hole #white hole #digital art #it was my first space background from scratch #i think it came out well #art #oc art #ocs #im working on names dont worry im just picky

[daisynik7]

Sweet Like Honey

Chapter 1: The First Time

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.1k

cw: established relationship, fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary), nipple play, clitoral stimulation, sex without a condom, creampie, pet names

Summary: Nanami invites you to his place for the first time, where he offers to cook you dinner, which leads to a night of many other firsts. 

Author's Notes: I originally wrote these spicy side stories for A Bento For Kento last year and I'm just now getting around to editing/rewriting some of it to match more of my current style! I hope you like it, thank you for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Sweet Like Honey Masterlist | Next Chapter

Being inside Nanami’s apartment for the first time makes you nervous for some reason. Maybe it’s the feeling of being in somebody’s personal space that makes you uneasy. You like this man, of course, but there’s still so much you don’t know about him. It’s only been two weeks since you started dating. Two weeks since your first and second kiss at the street food festival. With Ren still living with you at home, it’s been difficult to find time to be alone with Nanami. 

Until tonight.

He offers to make dinner, which is already such a huge turn on for you. The smell coming from the kitchen is intoxicating. You can’t recall the last time that someone cooked a meal from scratch to serve to you. There’s yearning in the pit of your stomach. Is it hunger caused by the aroma of the food? Or desire for the man currently preparing the food? It’s both, definitely both. 

You’re currently sitting on the couch with a glass of red wine in hand, classical music playing on his stereo in the background. You don’t expect anything less from him, already so smitten by the classy Kento Nanami. You sneak a glance at him in the kitchen, admiring the black apron he’s wearing over a blue dress shirt and his usual spotted tie. He looks extremely attractive right now. In fact, he is extremely attractive. Feeling increasingly nervous each passing minute, you chug your liquor before standing up to walk into the kitchen. He takes his focus away from the pan to look at you, asking, “Need anything?”

“I was actually coming here to ask you the same question,” you respond with a small smile. 

“I’m almost done. Just want the sauce to thicken up a bit more.” He eyes your empty glass. “Need a refill?”

You hold it out to him, nodding. “Yes, please.” 

He pours the bottle, filling it halfway. Without a word, you tip it into your mouth, taking three large gulps to swallow it down. From your peripheral, you catch Nanami watching you curiously.

Why are you freaking out right now? You’re with your boyfriend, who has been nothing but kind, gentle, and sweet to you. But tonight, you are hyper aware that it’s just the two of you, alone inside his swanky apartment, the bedroom just a few feet away.

It’s just dinner, you remind yourself. This doesn’t guarantee that the two of you will have sex tonight. Besides, why are you thinking about sex to begin with? Get your mind out of the gutter. He invited you here for dinner, nothing more. However, there’s no denying that it’s been on your mind. You nearly pounced on him at the street food festival. Every night, you replay the memory of his touch; his gentle hand on your cheek, his warm mouth on yours. How his lips feel against the skin of your wrist. The way his jaw clenches when he’s trying to hold back. You want to feel that again. You want more. 

You’ve seen each other a couple more times after that night, either out in public or at your house with Ren. And with your protective younger brother always keeping an eye out, your goodnight kisses have been tame, a little too tame, if you’re being honest. To say you’ve been eager for this alone time with him is an understatement. Despite this, you can’t help being a tad nervous. Will you two be compatible in the bedroom? Are there any weird kinks he’s into? Is he okay with the kinks that you’re into? These questions won’t be answered all in one night, so there’s no use in stressing about it when sex isn’t even on the table yet. You’re only focus tonight should be to enjoy this delicious home-cooked meal courtesy of your super hot boyfriend and let everything play out the way it should. 

“Go ahead and sit. I’ll serve you.” You snap out of your reverie at the sound of his voice and take a seat at the dining table, taking the bottle of wine with you. Soon, he appears with two steaming plates in hand, setting one in front of you and the other at his spot next to you. “Carbonara and garlic bread. This is my favorite meal to cook,” he says, sitting down and filling his glass. 

“This smells and looks incredible. I’m so impressed!” you beam at him, eyes glowing with admiration. 

“That’s a huge compliment, coming from you,” he responds, smiling.

“Pasta is not a specialty of mine. You’ll have to teach me one day.”

“Sounds like a good date idea. Let’s plan that soon.”

You twirl your fork around the noodles for the perfect bite. It’s still piping hot off the plate. When it hits your tongue, your taste buds sing. The sauce is perfectly creamy with just the right amount of cheese and pepper flavor. The salt from the crisp bits of pancetta adds enough flavor without being too overpowering. The noodles are al-dente, just the way you like it. Everything together creates a luxurious, well-balanced dish. Even the garlic bread is delicious; he roasted the garlic beforehand, surrounding the apartment with one of your favorite scents. “Delicious. Absolutely delicious. It tastes even better than it looks, and it looks incredible.”

“Now you’re just exaggerating,” he says, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“No, Nanami. It’s seriously amazing. Thank you for cooking this for me.” You take another big forkful, closing your eyes and making small noises of satisfaction. He doesn’t speak, a small smile on his face smile as he eats his own food, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you’re still enjoying the meal. The silence isn’t awkward; it feels comfortable. Both of you indulging in delicious food and great company. 

When you’ve scraped your plate clean with your last piece of garlic bread, you finish the rest of your wine, letting out happy sigh as you rub your belly. Nanami finishes soon after and stands up to take the plates into the kitchen. You follow, offering, “Let me wash the dishes! It’s the least I could do after you’ve fed me.”

“I’ll put them in the dishwasher, don’t worry.”

You lean against the countertop, helping him load the dishwasher. After the cycle stars, he steps towards you, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you for dinner. Seriously. That was so delicious,” you say, peering up at him. 

“You know that I already like you, right?” he chuckles, planting another smooch on you. “You don’t have to keep flattering me.”

“I’m just being honest! That was one of the best meals I’ve ever had! But I’m obviously biased because I already like you too,” you tease, winking. From behind him, you suddenly notice something on his fridge. Curious, you walk up to it. It’s the bento box notes you wrote him, hung up by magnets, each one wrinkled from wear and tear. Smiling, you ask, “You hung them up on your fridge?

He stands beside you, arm brushing yours. “Of course. They keep me going throughout the week.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, beaming at him. “You are the sweetest man, you know that?” You kiss, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you in closer. The fact that he still has those notes, now hung up on his fridge like artwork, makes your heart swell. How is this man even real? And how are you lucky enough to have him as your boyfriend?

He pulls away from the kiss, voice wavering just the slightest. “Should we move to the couch?”

Heat creeps into your face as he leads you into the living room. Is the wine getting to you? Or is it your nerves? You’re the one who initiated the kiss, so why are you surprised that he wants to move it to the couch?! There’s no way he wants to get it on right now; you just ate. Isn’t there a rule about waiting thirty minutes after you eat, or does that only apply to swimming?

You both sit on the catch, knees touching, holding hands. He gazes at you lovingly, even as you try to avoid his gaze. “Are you okay? You seem a little distracted.” He brushes your cheek with his thumb, his touch giving you the flutters below your stomach. 

“I’m fine,” you lie, totally flustered now.

“Are you sure?” He brings your hand up to his lips, placing soft kisses between your knuckles. Oh no, your absolute weakness.

“I guess I’m just a little nervous,” you admit.

“What are you nervous about?”

You let out a timid laugh. “I don’t know. I’m just being weird.”

He stops kissing to study you. “You can be honest with me. Please tell me what’s on your mind.”

Taking a deep breath, you explain, “I want to get some things out in the open. Make sure we’re both on the same page.”

There’s a worried glint in his eyes. “Okay.”

Another deep breath. “So, um. Sex. I want to have sex. With you. Do you…I mean, would you like that, too? Is that, um, something you want to do with me?”

You can see a small grin forming on his lips, but he immediately goes back to a neutral expression to answer, “Yes. Very much so.”

Cheeks burning, you reply, “Okay. That’s…good to know.” You clear your throat before posing the next question. “Have…have you been tested recently? I’m sorry to ask this, I just want to make sure we’re practicing safe sex.”

Calmly, he says, “I got tested two weeks ago as soon as we started dating. Everything is good.” Before you can continue, he adds, “And don’t apologize for asking that. That’s a very valid question.”

You nod, easing up a bit. “I got tested a few months ago when I last saw my gynecologist. And I’m also good. I haven’t had sex since then, so yeah. I’m good. We’re good.”

“Good.”

There’s a moment of silence as you properly process this conversation. Why were you so anxious? You should have known that talking to Nanami like this would be easy, considering how mature he is. 

“Oh! Also, I’m on birth control. Just FYI. In case you were wondering,” you blurt out. 

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” he says, a kind expression on his face. Butterflies flutter in your stomach at the way he looks at you. 

Finally relaxed, you say, “Okay, I think that’s all I wanted to talk about. Thank you.”

“Thank you for opening up to me.” He places his hand on yours, caressing you with his thumb.

You ask, “Do you have any questions for me?” He shakes his head no. You continue. “I’m sorry if this is awkward. I just want to make sure we go about this the right way.” The fluster on your face is definitely noticeable; there’s no hiding it now.

His smile brightens as he scoots closer to you. “You’re too cute, you know that?” 

At that, you let out another giggle, glancing down at your lap, shy for an entirely different reason now.

“I really like you. You have no idea,” he whispers, breath warm on your ear. When did he get so close? Your heart pounds like crazy, enough that he can probably hear it. 

Attempting to lighten the mood, you joke, “You still like me after all that interrogation?”

“I think I like you even more now.” There’s lust dripping in his voice. “Can I kiss you?”

Without saying another word, you lean in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss starts slow and gentle. His hand cups your face, thumb grazing your cheekbone, reminding you vividly of your first kiss. How the sounds of the festival were drowned out by the thumping of your heartbeat. Now, the classical music playing in the background is muted by the wet noises your lips make against Nanami’s mouth. His other hand slides up your thigh, fingers dangerously close to the arousal between your legs. The first time, he was holding back. This time, he’s not. He wants you. 

He pulls your head back gently, lips trailing down your neck, sucking on your skin where it’s most sensitive. As if he knows exactly where to touch you to stimulate every nerve in your body. He slides under your blouse, fingers grazing the bulge of your belly. Feeling insecure, you grab his wrist and push his hand away. He stops to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I just…I just ate, so I’m a bit bloated,” you confess. “Feeling a little self-conscious.”

With another kind expression, he says, “I understand. I won’t touch you there.” He returns to your thigh, kissing your neck once more, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “You are beautiful. I hope one day you’ll let me worship every part of your gorgeous body.”

Your insecurity is quickly overtaken by the need to feel him on every inch of your bare skin. Without thinking, you take his hand and slip it beneath your blouse, allowing him to touch you there now. Why did you even bother trying to resist him?

He laughs softly. “Good girl.”

Hearing him utter those words as he touches has your pussy throbbing. There’s nothing else on your mind except feeling him all over you. Feeling him inside you. He squeezes your breast, his thumb flicking your nipple over the fabric of your bra. 

“Want to move into the bedroom?”

Without a second thought, you answer, “Yes.”

~~~

Fingers entwined with hers, he takes her into his room, watching as she lies on his king-sized bed. He straddles her, hands at the hem of her shirt. “Can I undress you?”

She nods, sitting up to help him strip her, her upper body exposed except for the bra covering her breasts. He doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable; he can tell she’s a bit nervous, despite the obvious desire in her eyes. Most importantly, he wants this to be an enjoyable experience. “Is it okay if I take your bra off?”

She gulps loudly before breathing out, “Yes.”

He wraps his arms around her, fingers grasping for the clasp. She kisses him hastily, lightly nipping at his lower lip, his dick growing stiffer inside his pants. She reaches for him, palming his strained cock until he’s uncomfortable hard against the fabric. When her bra finally comes lose, he tugs it off her body, tossing it to the floor, admiring her bare bosom. 

“Can I suck on your nipples?” he huffs, his patience wearing thin. “Do you like that?”

“Yes, I really like that.”

She really likes it, she says. Good to know. He squeezes her breast, sucking on her nipple. His free hand massages the other, pinching it lightly until he it’s perky against his fingertips. He circles his thumb around it as he continues to work her tits, making lewd noises as he releases her with a wet pop, only to latch onto her again, sucking harder. She moans, his cock twitching with every erotic sound that comes out of her salacious mouth. 

Nipple plump on his tongue, he moves to the other one, sucking until she squirms beneath him, whimpering in pleasure. Still completely clothed, he loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt, stripping until he’s naked from the waist up. Her fingers trail his abs, then down to the skin right above the hem of his pants. Once she unbuckles his belt, he slides out of his pants until he is clad only in his briefs, her focus on the obvious bulge protruding from his underwear. She undresses, keeping just her panties on. He leans over to kiss her passionately, letting his hands explore her body freely, cherishing every soft curve of her glorious figure.

He’s been dreaming about this. Ever since their first kiss, he’s thought about her every night. The way she tastes on his lips. How soft her skin is on his rough hands. He would fantasize about the different positions they would try, the sounds she would make if he ever got the chance to pleasure her. Every second they spend together, his feelings for her grow stronger and stronger. He’s never felt like this with anyone else. That’s why he doesn’t want to screw it up. He wants nothing more than to pleasure her, make her feel comfortable and safe with him.  

He breaks away to catch his breath. “Is this okay?”

She smiles, cupping his cheek. “Yes. This is more than okay.”

“We don’t have to go any further, we can stop here,” he suggests. He really doesn’t want to, but he will if she does. 

“Do you want to stop?” There’s a naughty look in her eyes, as if she’s teasing him.

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

Electricity surges through his body, ready to burst. His fingers reach for her panties, rubbing her clit through the cloth. “Can I touch you here?”

“Yes, Nanami. Fuck.”

His cock twitches at the sound of her cursing. This is one his fantasies, hearing filthy words come out her sweet, innocent mouth. He slips his middle finger past the fabric, sliding it up and down her wet folds, circling her clit, cock rigid underneath his briefs. Feeling her like this is better than he ever imagined. A dream come true.

“Show me. I want to see how big you are for me,” she purrs into his ear.

His eyes widen at her suggestion. Fuck. He won’t be able to last if she keeps saying things like this in her sexy voice. He shoves his briefs down his thighs, letting his hard cock flop against his abdomen. 

“Fuck, Nanami. You’re so big. Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Losing his composure, he mutters, “Fuck, baby. Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yes, sweetie.”

He lets out a huff. “Okay. I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” He reaches for his nightstand, grabbing a condom and lube from the drawer. When she sees him opening the packet, she grabs his wrist. “You don’t have to put that on. I’m on birth control, remember?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Fuck.” He pours lube onto his palm, stroking his erection. She watches hungrily as he positions himself at her wet slit, guiding it in smoothly, her pussy clenching him every inch he slides in. When he bottoms out, he stays still, waiting for her body to adjust to his size. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she breathes out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He thrusts slowly, savoring how incredible she feels around him. It takes everything in his willpower not to come yet. She wraps her legs around his waist, arms linked behind his neck. That beautiful smile flashes across her face, making him tingly all over his body. He really likes her.

His pace picks up, drawing out small moans from her sweet lips. He’s close, but he wants to make her orgasm first. He reaches down to rub her puffy clit with his thumb, the sudden sensation causing her to buck up towards him. Her reaction encourages him to thrust into her faster, moving his thumb relentlessly over the sensitive spot. 

“Fuck, Nanami. I’m going to come,” she whimpers. 

“Come for me, princess. Come all over my cock.”

She tightens, her body squeezing him until she climaxes. After her high, she relaxes her grip on him, eyes glazed over, grinning. When he tries to pull out, she stops him. “Don’t. Keep going until you come. Please.”

It doesn’t take long; he thrusts into her a few more times until he releases inside her, filling her up. As he pulls out, cum drips out of her slit, an erotic sight he’ll never tire of seeing. He collapses beside her, steadying his breath. She turns to him, sliding her arm over his chest, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. Cuddling closer to her, he whispers, “Thank you.”

She laughs. “Thank you, too.” 

They stay like that for a few minutes, the silence comfortable, their bodies cozy snuggled together. Before they end up falling asleep, Nanami sits up and announces, “I’ll be back.” He disappears into the bathroom, rummaging his cupboard for the unscented baby wipes he bought a few days ago. When he returns, he crawls back in bed next to his girlfriend and takes out a few wipes. 

“Wow, you’re so prepared!” she exclaims, taking the wipes from him to clean herself. 

“I figured these would be good to have, just in case. If you want, we can take a shower together before we sleep. You can wear my clothes.” 

“I can’t sleep over. Ren is going to freak out if I don’t come home.”

Slightly disappointed, he responds, “Oh, okay.”

Sensing this, she kisses him on the cheek. “I promise. Next time, I will sleep over. Just gotta get Ren’s approval first.”

“You’re such a good sister,” he smirks.

“And when Ren moves into the dorms in a couple of weeks, we can do whatever we want, wherever we want.”

“I’d like that.”

After she’s cleaned up, she changes back into her clothes. Nanami puts on a new pair of clean briefs to walk her to the door. “Call me when you’re home, okay?”

“I will.”

They hug each other tightly before saying goodbye. Exhausted from his orgasm, Nanami goes straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for sleep. As he lies in bed, under the very blanket they just had sex on, he moves his head to the pillow. The one she was sprawled out on as he made her come. He takes a deep breath with his nose pressed against it, inhaling her sweet scent. He feels his arousal growing beneath his briefs, thinking about the way his cum trickled out of her. 

He smiles to himself, reaching down to stroke his hard cock, realizing he doesn’t have to go off fantasies anymore. 

Taglist: @chiyoso

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x you #kento nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sweet like honey #a bento for kento

[momodita]

snapshots. [—chilchuck tims]

TAGS / WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, modern au,       minor pining, background marcille/falin WC: 1,000 NOTE: divorced father of 3 save me... save me       divorced father of 3...

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS DNI.

“Move over.”

Chilchuck’s voice startles you. The bowl in his hands is steaming: a hearty stew made with Falin and Marcille’s collective effort—(“Senshi’s tried and true recipe!”). A thick slice of bread perches on its rim. It smells just as heavenly as it did at dinner.

“Here?” you ask, stupefied. The armchair you’ve claimed is wide; there’s easily enough space to fit a Chilchuck-sized person, but your mind jumps—unbidden—to the reason he’d been late in the first place.

“Where else?” He nudges you with his knee. “As if I’m gonna sit near that love-fest over there.”

“You’re not welcome anyways,” Marcille tuts, midway through dipping the maraschino cherry from her sundae into Falin’s mouth.

“This is my apartment!”

You concede with a laugh: it’s just your bruised heart working overtime. The moment his body settles, shoulders touching, you stop being able to taste the ice cream Laios had scooped into your bowl. Existence narrowing to that point of contact with a familiar little rush.

It’s Laios’ turn to choose tonight’s movie, much to Marcille’s dismay—(“A documentary classifies! This is a really interesting one!”)—and he scrolls to find it as Chilchuck digs into his food.

Midway through, you engage him in a thrilling mock-battle of fencing spoons. Falin dozes, lulled from the careful stroke of Marcille’s fingers through her hair. By the time the credits roll, they’re folded onto each other, soft snores drowned out by music.

“They fell asleep again,” Chilchuck drawls, chin cushioned against his hand.

“Must be crashing after all that sugar,” Laios suggests, drapes a blanket over them.

“They were pretty high energy tonight. Eager to hear about how Chilchuck’s date went, I guess,” you tease, taking up the mantle with Marcille fast asleep. “You didn’t even tell us her name.” Keeping the tone casual despite the haunting little pit in your stomach.

(It’d been a shock to hear about it: for as long as you’ve known him, Chilchuck has been eager to keep his life private—even from long-time friends. And there’d been no signs of anyone—except you and your little group—coveting his time and attention; no extra, unexplained toothbrushes, no brands you don’t recognize in his pantry, no missed get-togethers.)

“Huh?” He gives you a look, confusion twisted in his features. The TV’s light illuminates a silver hair. “I wasn’t with any girl.”

Your brow furrows. “…His name? Their name?”

Chilchuck stares. This close—where the minuscule twitches in his expression are noticeable—it’s strangely evaluating.

“You know Marcille was joking when she said it was a date, right?” Heat sears along your cheekbones; embarrassment flushing hot under his gaze—the realization of your mistake.

“Of course I knew,” you say stupidly. Chilchuck’s eyebrow quirks. “Shut up. Don’t look at me like that.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Well, then if it wasn’t a date, who were you with?”

“Senshi,” he says. “He was—we, uh,” his eyes slide off to the side, “I asked him for a favor.”

“Oh?” you hum, relief and mirth creating a warm hum behind your ribs. “Looking to get a side hustle as a cook?”

“Not even close,” he grunts, looking away.

“Should we start calling you our little master chef?” You nudge him with a grin.

“Chilchuck is already quite good at cooking,” Laios pipes up without taking his eyes off the screen. “Maybe he’ll learn to make something else after mastering ramen.”

“Hey—”

“Ramen?” you ask, head tilting. “Like, the instant kind?”

Chilchuck splutters. “No!”

“From scratch!” Laios beams. “Senshi’s said he’s been making really good progress since his first day.”

“Oh?” you grin. “Our little master chef is gonna open a ramen shop?”

“Shut up. No way. Not ever,” Chilchuck grumbles, the high curve of his ear a soft pink.

“I hope you’ll make it for us one day—I love ramen,” you say. “Very tedious, though, so I’ve never done it myself.”

His face scrunches, mouth pursing together like he wants to speak, but doesn’t. His cheeks puff with air, releasing as a long, quiet sigh.

“Oh, hey, so after ramen”—you lean a hand on the chair’s opposite arm, boxing him in with a cheeky little smile—“you should look into French onion soup. It’s probably easier than ramen but caramelizing the onions takes so long—”

“You—!” he leans back, shoulders tense and eyes wide. “Don’t go making requests before I’ve even cooked anything decent.”

“Why not? I bet it’ll be great! You’re good with your hands, so soup is probably a piece of cake for you.” You watch—with no small amount of pleasure—as Chilchuck’s face flushes with vivid color.

“Get away from me,” he mumbles, but his tone is so insincere all you do is laugh. He knocks a loose fist against the inside of your elbow. A surprised noise jumps out; you retreat back against the chair, rubbing the spot.

“Mmh?” Marcille rouses with a sleepy hum. “What’re you requestin’?”

“Chilchuck is making us ramen,” you joke, relishing the way he knocks an admonishing leg against yours. “He’s our little master chef.”

“Oh, yeah. Did Laios end up spilling the beans?” Marcille yawns. Falin stirs, eyes fluttering. “Congratulations, you two.”

Chilchuck goes stiff beside you. “What do you mean?” you ask.

Marcille pauses, head tilting with a drowsy look of confusion. “Huh? Didn’t you ask why he’s learning to make it?” she asks. Falin tugs her sleeve.

You blink. “No. Should I have?” Marcille doesn’t respond right away, head bent to put an ear by Falin’s mouth, expression pinched as they whisper. Then, with a sigh, she reaches up to stretch.

“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Laios is quick to grab her attention.

“Hey, so are you actually opening a ramen shop?” you whisper to Chilchuck.

“You’re such an airhead,” he grunts against his palm.

“I’m great,” you reply. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze. When next he speaks, his voice is soft—acquiescing easily to your jest.

“Guess you are.”

#chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #dungeon meshi fic #dungeon meshi x reader #snapshot fic #reader insert #food as a love language from me wow how new and exciting #momodita fic

[anadiasmount]

BFF so morning fluff with jude (waking up and stuff) nd you are in his hoodie wearing nothing underneath ... then you're in the kitchen making breakfast and he's behind you, running his hands inside his hoodie your wearing to find out you're still wearing nothing underneath and it turns him on (slight smut)

BESTIEEEE!!! "nothing but shorts skirts around the house" ** 🤭🤭 // here's my treat to you!! like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

the rain hitting and tapping the windows woke you abruptly, squinting your eyes and looking around the room, quiet and dark, beside the 6ft man who slept sound asleep next to you. jude had his arm wrapped around your naked body, his chin on top of your head snoring slightly. brows drew in as his lips pursed.

jude's hand twitched pulling you closer to him as if nothing happened. recalls of last night played in your head as you remembered how the long night was filled with shared love and lust. kisses, moans, reassurance, and giggles of 'i love you's". he never failed to make you feel special and wanted.

you scrolled on your phone for a bit, replying to messages and emails, and going through your shopping cart to see what needed to be bought and or returned. it had been a long and hectic 2 weeks for jude, playing football and training, so sleep was exactly what he deserved and needed.

you gently moved his secure arm from you, hearing him groan but then turned over to tuck himself on the other side, not once waking up. jude was a heavy sleeper, and when he slept, he slept. the thunderstorm from outside wouldn't even wake him, let alone if it got worse throughout the day.

after brushing your teeth, you slip into a black hoodie he wore once to a basketball game, no undergarments underneath since the hoodie fits you loose, and is bigger than a dress. it went almost touching your knees, and the sleeves had to be rolled up. you grabbed your phone and headed to the kitchen to brew some coffee.

you yawned, stretching your arms and legs, feeling the cold floor beneath you, as you turned on the kitchen lights. you checked the security cameras to ensure nothing had happened over the night, and made sure every door was locked because you never know. you attempted to blend the coffee quietly, quickly putting it into the filter and began to brew it.

it was still early, and jude had the day off with you. he promised he'd workout and then spend the rest of the day with you, either cuddled up or doing last-minute shopping, although the last time that felt impossible with everyone recognizing him. you laugh at the memory, pulling out the carton of eggs, some veggies to add, and fruit to cut up.

you quietly played music in the background, dicing the fruit first, taking two small bowls out for each of you. you hummed quietly, making sure you wouldn't cut yourself as you cut into the jalapenos, cherry tomatoes, and onions to add to the eggs. jude walked down still asleep and groggy, scratching the side of his head as he approached you.

he wore black plaided pj pants walking shirtless. "hi babe, good morning," you greeted leaning up to meet his kiss in a quick peck. jude groaned feeling you pull away and return back to what you were doing. "coffee just finished, and now I'm making some eggs," you say, feeling jude come behind you and tug you into his chest once again.

"my favorite way," jude cheers, looking at all the veggies spread out in the pan sizzling. "gosh I'm so tired, my legs are killing me from the game yesterday," jude complained, not letting go of you once even when he reached to get the two mugs.

he grabbed some scooby doo cookies, dipped them into the warm drink, and ate them. the two of you conversed about yesterday, and plans for today, agreeing if that the storm got worse you'd stay in and recover here.

you squirmed around your space, giggling, as you felt jude teasingly running up his larger hands on your thighs and sides. his fingertips drawing shapes and lines as he ran them under his hoodie, just to find out you wore nothing underneath. "jude?" you asked, feeling as he went quiet and stopped his movements.

"hmm?"

"are you okay?"

"you're not wearing anything under my hoodie, darling," jude points out, his left hand going all the way up to slightly grab your boob, fingering rolling around the bead feeling it get hard. "i know i just didn't want to waste clothes again since I was-s-s going to s-s-shower after," you stutter gulping the small moan you wanted to let out.

you felt soft and silky, and smelled like vanilla and cherry as jude placed wet kisses all over the nape of your neck, biting and sucking at times. "you're distracting me jude," you whined trying to pull away, "what did you expect? you're wearing my hoodie with nothing underneath angel..."

he grabbed a strawberry, placing it between his lips as you watched his every move. he turned you around, grabbing your face gently with one hand as the other one gripped your ass cheek. his eyes went hooded, observing the way your breathing rapidly changed as he traced the red juice of the sweet fruit all along your top and bottom lip.

jude took a bite placing the half un-eaten piece into your mouth, chewing it softly as he sucked his finger to wipe any extra juice. you looked so torn, licking your lips pondering whether to continue with breakfast or let him take you right then and there. his skin trailed with goosebumps as you dragged your hand all the way up to his throat, gliding it behind his neck.

"you're distracting me," you raised your brow playing with fire growing bold and confident. "and you're making me crazy," jude smugged as he leaned down once again to kiss your jaw, pulse point, and now corners of your lips. "you always drive crazy, whether it's you sitting down and doing work or you wearing my clothes in our home. tell me what did you expect?"

"nothing..." you joke watching him pull back with a "don't play with me" look, "but i do expect you to let me finish breakfast?" you said sweetly, an innocent smile playing at your lips. jude hears you giggling and pleads to put you down as he picks you up and takes you to the couch.

his fingers traced from your sides to between your legs, feeling you already wet as he stroked his fingers around your entrance and throbbing clit. he kissed you profusely, still being able to taste the strawberries on your lips and tongue as they danced together. he gently inserted his fingers into you, your back arching at the sensation. jude smirked, kissing your chin, before sinking his didgets deeper.

"i think i can have my breakfast and workout right now... all at the same time..."

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣ #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football one shot #football x you

[b0tster]

cyberpunk bunlith meme breakdown thread incoming!!

i wanted to do a little peek behind the scenes for yall cuz i know a lot of u are interested in my process, so lets jump right in!

first off here is a look of the animation itself in blender, with the original meme as a comparison, which can be found here btw!

the background itself was made to each shot, so the actual zoom out is a mess of meshes re-arranging themselves to line up for the next shot (i have 2 bunliths with associated cams that switch between shots so i can move things to set up the next shot while the other cam is live)

the assets were all made from scratch! this project was essentially a 'dry run' for my next game, which will be made using this style (the same could be said about bunlith herself: testing out the pipeline for expressive, easy to read ps1 style visuals)

i the space background painted a few years ago as concept art for said future game (this game has been a concept since before bloodborne psx started development!). heres a full res, non pixelated version of the art if you are interested!

and here is how it looks in unreal engine! note the pink distance fog which was something i really wanted to experiment with for a very long time as changing the ps1 fog color is the quickest way to change the vibe and i was curious if i could pull off a color as bold as pink

and that's basically everything! thanks for checking it all out 😃

once again, very fun project to work on on the side while i plug away at finishing bloodborne kart!

#bunlith #low poly #ps1 aesthetics #cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #space gays

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 22

part 1 | part 21 | ao3

“…Go ahead,” he relents with a heavy sigh.

He turns the radio back on for background noise, and Robin launches herself into a breathless recap of every minute detail she’s ever learned about Eddie Munson. Genuinely impressive how quickly the words come out; Steve thinks that if her dream of becoming a linguistics researcher ever falls through, she’s got a bright future ahead of her as one of those speedreaders who rattle off the fine print at the end of pharmaceutical ads.

Warning: Discussion of Eddie Munson may cause nausea, heartburn, palpitations, sweaty armpits, and an inconveniently timed half-chub any time you use a pocket knife. Talk to your doctor to see if Discussion of Eddie Munson is right for you!

“Which brings us to tonight,” she’s saying when he zones back in. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Must we?”

“Yes, we must.”

She makes a loose fist, lifting her pointer finger with an aggressive flourish to kick off her ‘list of reasons Eddie has a big, fat crush on you.’ “Fact number one: he was conveniently wearing a super nice outfit.”

“He said he ran out of laundry.”

“And we’re buying that?” she scoffs. Her middle finger springs up to join the first one. “Two: he was so disgustingly up in your personal space. Like, you really should have seen it; it was—”

Mwah. Mwah mwah mwah. “Yeah, I don’t need another demonstration.”

“Three” —there goes her ring finger— “he came to a movie rental store that you just so happen to work at and then left without renting a movie.”

“Because you did something to spook him!”

“Which brings me to my fourth and final point.” Her pinky lifts up to join the team, fingers spread wide like a paper fan, and she telescopes her arm to shove them back and forth under his nose until he goes a little cross-eyed and bitches about her distracting the driver.

“Cut it out! You want me to drive us into someone’s trash cans?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, well I’m sending you the invoice when it scratches up the paint.”

She retreats to her side of the car, curling her back against the door and repeating, “My fourth and final point: I think he thinks we’re dating.”

“And? Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“No, everyone wants us to be secretly dating,” she corrects. “But I’m pretty sure Eddie actually thinks I’m your girlfriend. You remember last week when you dropped me off at school?”

He does. Eddie had actually been there early for once; had been sitting on a bench out by the soccer fields, looking surly and half-asleep while he sucked down a cigarette. Hair all messed up by the wind. Looked kind of dangerous. Wild.

“He was, like, fully glaring at me when I walked into school that morning, and then he was super rude to me in band. Which, at the time, I was like, ‘oh, well I guess that’s just Eddie no one can ever tell what his mood’s gonna be like from day to day,’ but noo-o-ow…”

She starts squirming in her seat again, excitement overflowing as she finally cracks the case. “Now it all makes sense! Oh, my god! He totally hates me because he thinks we’re dating, and I’ll bet you anything he either didn’t know we work together or didn’t expect me to be there tonight and he totally, one hundred percent was there to flirt with you because he’s in lo—”

“Okay, Detective,” he cuts her off, because the tips of his ears are burning, and he doesn’t think he can handle her saying the L word out loud right now. “You’ve made your point, thank you.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“Uh, no.”

“Come on.” She jabs at his side. “Tell me I’m right tell me I’m right tell me I’m—”

“—A fucking menace? Gladly.”

“Translation: I’m right and you’re mad about it,” she smirks, victorious.

Steve knocks his forehead against the wheel as he pulls up to her curb. “Why do I drive you places?”

“Because you love me." She flips her visor down to freshen up her lip balm, mumbling around the chapstick, "I’m adding Surly Best Friendlish to my list of fluencies; I think it'll really make my college applications pop."

"Yuh huh," Steve grumbles. The thought of Robin leaving for college always sits in his gut like raw bread dough — thick and heavy and gross, rising to form a swollen lump in his throat. "Didn't you already submit all of those?"

"Yes, I diiiid," she sings, shimmying her shoulders with pride. "Duke's gonna say yes, I just know it. Picture it with me: Robin L. Buckley," she gestures to an imagined marquee somewhere just beyond the windshield, "class of 1990."

Steve swallows the urge to be a sulky dick about it. "They'd be lucky to have you," he says quietly.

"Nope. No no, none of that. No moping." She tugs at his arm; links their elbows together. "You're not allowed to mope when we have a party to get ready for."

"No, you have a party to get ready for. I'm going home."

"Steeeve-uh!" Holy shit. He just had to be soulmates with the whiniest lesbian in a 500 mile radius, didn't he? "Come to the bonfire party with me!"

"Yeah, that's a no."

“It’ll be fun!"

It most certainly will not be. "You really want me to go freeze my ass off in the woods all night while a bunch of former classmates talk shit about me the second they think I'm out of earshot?" He's been to enough of his parents' 'networking events' over the years to know exactly how that'll go. A full night of subtly closed-off body language, smirking whispers and judgmental glances that dart away as soon as he meets them head on. Fuck that. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

He just wants to go home. Feels momentarily sick with the desire to drive himself to Loch Nora.

"What did I say about moping?" Robin asks. She shoves into his space, hugging his arm tighter and deploying her most lethal sad wet kitten face (and Steve doesn't even like cats; this shouldn't fucking work on him.) "Pleeeease," she begs. "Vickie's going to be there, and I could really use a friend."

"So ask a friend!"

"I am, dipshit!"

Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Goddamn this woman. Steve hangs his chin to his chest in defeat, notices the weird stain he got on his shirt during work. "I have some conditions," he concedes.

She throws her arms out wide. "Condition me, baby!"

"First— ew. Okay, I don't like that; don't call me baby." Yeesh, and furthermore, yuck. "First, I'm borrowing one of your shirts, and you're probably never getting it back."

"Understandable,” she nods as she gets out of the car. Steve follows her out, propping his elbows on the roof.

"Secondly,” he continues, “I'm getting very drunk at this stupid party, and you're figuring out how we get home."

She reaches out over the top of the car; gives his hand a quick squeeze when he puts it in hers. "That's three things," she says fondly, "but I can work with that."

—

part 23

tag list part 1 below the cut; comment if you'd like to be added tomorrow (not tagging ageless or under 21s unless we're mutuals or you let me know your age ✌️)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @questionablequeeries @runninriot @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutabed @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #my writing #my fic

[smellrain]

in which: Jack has liked you for years, but so far you have been oblivious to his feelings. Will the guide he made with the help of his teammate make you fall for him? Or will it end up destroying your friendship?

tags: written, mention of use of alcohol, slight angst. (masterlist for this au) (my masterlist) <prev. part: prologue I next part: ch. 2>

notes: [4.3k] First of all: thank you for your kind words after the prologue yesterday! Very happy that so many of you liked it. There is an analysis post about this chapter here that you might want to check out after! I hope you enjoy :) & come tell me how you liked it!!!

It had been a long day at work for you. The data your boss had assigned you had taken you a lot longer to work on than you’d expected, which meant that you actually, genuinely missed your last lecture of the day. You had texted a barely-even-friend that attended the same elective about her notes but you hadn't gotten a text back so far. 

Standing in front of your door now, you leaned the crown of your head against the outside of it and took a deep breath in. You had missed the key hole not once but twice now and the anger that welled up inside of you was completely unwarranted, so you knew you needed to mentally take at least one step back. 

Four seconds in, seven hold, eight out. In and out. You blinked once and the dark of the wood was an unwelcome reminder of reality. Still, unlocked the door, this time succeeding on the first try. 

The hallway was quiet, but you had expected as much. One of your flatmates had a nightshift at the clinic she was working at while the other was sleeping over at her boyfriends. The blissful silence you had looked forward to this morning seemed suffocating now. 

It didn’t matter. It was fine like this, you were fine.

After turning on the kitchen light, you walked to your room, put down your bag and fell down onto your bed, face first. The scratchy fabric of your bedcover was not nearly as nice as the sheets you had dreamed of all day long. 

For a while you let your eyes fall closed, not asleep, but resting nonetheless. You just wanted to rinse the day off of you, but you were too hungry to even think about showering. 

With a groan you peeled yourself off your bed, sat at the edge of your mattress while an inexplicable urge to cry welled up inside of you. Your day had been really shitty and your were really, really hungry.

But you got up anyway and walked towards the light in the kitchen that shone through through the space of the door to your room.

The music you’d put on in the background helped but it didn’t quite scratch that itch for conversation, for company. When you saw your phone light up from where you had left it on the counter, you hoped it might be the classmate you had texted. 

You rinsed off your hands to see who had messaged you. 

Jack (worst Hughes brother): hey what r you doing tn? You: currently making dinner why what did you do what do you need Jack (worst Hughes brother): nothing  wait why did you assume i did/need sth anyways: can i come over soon?

The shower. You still had to shower, but soon for Jack usually meant at least half an hour. It  should be enough time and besides it was just Jack, no reason to put in more effort than necessary. 

You: because you always text me when you need my help sure, I might be eating by then, have you eaten? Jack (worst Hughes brother): I did like 5min ago wait no ignore that, you’re telling me I could have had some of yours??? jkjk see you soon

You liked the last message and turned the heat off your stove. Shower first, you reminded yourself, even as you mourned the loss of the start of your dinner that you had been frying on the stove. 

When he knocked at your door you were still sitting at the small kitchen table that could barely seat two people. “It’s open,” you said, loudly. 

From the sounds you could hear him open and close the door, take off his shoes and leave his bag in the hallway. When he finally came into your view, you couldn’t help but smile. Strange how that worked, considering you had almost cried half an hour ago. Food really worked miracles sometimes. But then again he had always had that kind of effect on you, making you smile despite yourself. 

“That’s not very safe of you,” he had said but he was already smiling, “having your door unlocked.”

“Hey you, fancy seeing you here.”

There was a warm feeling curling itself around your ribcage at the look at him, “hey yourself. I left it open because I knew you were coming over, don’t worry about it.”

“Alright,” he conceded, “did you watch the game yesterday?”

“‘Course I did,” you said, eyes following him as he took a glass from the cabinets and filled it up. There was something intimate about that, the ease he carried himself with, him knowing where to find your glassware and feeling comfortable enough to do so while carrying on with the conversation. 

There was something in you that ached at the feeling, at having someone that comes home to you. At having someone that just feels that comfortable with you, that you live your life alongside with. 

It’s not like you were lonely, you had wonderful flatmates and good friends, but there was just something different about this feeling, about this longing. Or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, inexplicable as always.

“Good, otherwise I would have felt stupid after my goal.”

You had seen the new ritual he did sometimes that he had been asked about by the media sometimes. He had done it a few times now, more often over this past year. He was approached by his teammates first, but then he was still for a bit, putting his hand on his chest and raising it up after, usually waving once. The warmth that had seeped into your bones crept up to your face, “you did that for me?”

The one time he talked to an interviewer about it, he had said it was a new good luck charm he was trying out.

Because of the small table the two of you sat close and his knee kept bumping into yours, but you hardly paid it any mind. It was comforting, having him here, this close in the low light of the kitchen, cradling one of your glasses in his hands. 

Admitting something he hadn’t told anyone else.

“Yeah, of course, had to show my appreciation for my number one fan somehow.”

You laughed a little, “you are such an idiot.”

The smile he gave you in return crinkled up the skin at the corner of his eyes and you wanted to trace that fold with your thumb. What were you even thinking? “I know.”

So you just swatted his shoulder and got up to wash your dish. “Did you guys go out and celebrate?”

Jack turned in his seat, his body facing your back from where he was still sitting at the table, “yeah. It was a really small bar in the middle of nowhere, Nico said he didn’t want to be recognised, despite the win.”

You hummed in response. The constant scrutiny must have been affecting them all after these past few games. “Cool. Did it actually work or,” you trailed off, not really sure how to finish your question. 

“Sort of, I mean we took a few pictures when we came in but it was a lot better than usual.”

“I’m glad then,” you said and turned back around to face him, “I’m glad nothing too exciting happened.”

At the word exciting his expression morphed into something odd. “What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he answered but he wasn’t meeting your eyes anymore. 

“You can tell me, you know you can,” you reminded him, now getting closer to him again. You were usually able to get out every last secret of his if you just asked the right questions. 

“I know,” he assured you, now pulling you a little closer by your hip and resting his hand there. He had always been touchy like that, arms slung over your shoulders or around your waist, hands holding your wrist to pull you through crowds, thumbs circling your ankle when you rested your legs in his lap. 

“But it’s really nothing, I just got a little drunk,” he assured you, but you didn’t really buy it. 

Still, you had no real reason to press, knowing that it just made him close up further. He would end up telling you, just not now. “Okay.”

The two of you went back to your room soon after, deciding to watch a movie. You didn’t tell him that you were really, genuinely tired, because you knew he could tell. He always could, somehow, even if you yourself weren’t all that aware of it. Funny how that worked.

You sat down first and then patted the spot next to you on the bed, but for a split second you saw him hesitate. That hurt, just a bit because you had thought that the two of you were close enough for it to not matter anymore. 

Still, he leaned against the headboard next to you, his shoulder softly knocking against yours and your worries disappeared at that. You must have imagined it.

“Any preferences?”

“Ratatouille,” you said immediately, not even knowing where that request came from. 

He smiled, “I do like a girl that knows what she wants.”

For some reason you blushed at that, at the barely even there implication of being his. You really were going insane today. “Is that okay for you?”

“Sure,” he said, “let's watch the rat be a better cook than the two of us combined.”

You typed the website and clicked play on your screen and settled your laptop down between the two of you, one knee on each side of the bottom of it. 

You were suddenly keenly aware of the fact that you didn’t even own a tv, that you were watching a movie from your laptop when he could be at home, watching it on a screen that was at least double the size of this.

It was a stupid thought, so you brushed it off. He was a professional athlete, you were a college student. There was something fundamentally different about your current lives, as intertwined as they were. 

The movie started soon after, so you pushed all of that to the back of your mind. At first the two of you ran a semi-steady commentary about what was going on but soon after you were both too engrossed in the story to think about anything fun to say. 

When a sharp sound came from the screen you realised that you had your eyes closed. Sleepily you blinked your eyes open again. It must have been for a few minutes, at least because you weren't sure what was going on anymore. 

“Tired?” he asked, a knowing glint in his eyes. 

You let your forehead fall against his shoulder, this time on purpose. It was a welcome contrast to a few hours ago when you did the same thing against your front door. His shoulder was softer because of his sweatshirt and he smelled nice. Like the shampoo he used, like his laundry detergent. You wondered when that smell had become intrinsically his and not someone else's' like a friend of yours that used the same deodorant. 

You kind of wanted to drown in it, but you held yourself afloat anyway. He wasn’t yours, you weren’t his. The two of you weren’t like that.

“Had a hard day at work,” you mumbled, a little more tired now than you’d been just moments ago. His presence did that to you, calmed you down when you didn’t even know you were high to begin with. 

He lowered your shoulder a bit which made it more comfortable for you to rest your head on it. “You could have said no, you know that, right?”

But you had wanted to see him once you had seen his message. “I know.”

“Good,” he answered, as if it was as simple as that and remained quiet after that. 

You tried to turn your focus back to the movie, you really did, but before you knew it your eyelids were drooping again. 

Then you were woken up again, this time by Jack. 

The movie must have finished in the meantime because he had moved his arm, closing your laptop. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, trying to form a coherent thought but the only thing on your mind was the warmth of him next to you, the dream that just barely slipped out of your grasp. 

“Sorry,” you said.

He turned to you, surprised. “What for? If anything I should apologise, I kept watching even when you were tired.”

“You know I don't mind that,” you said. “I just wasn’t very good company today. Sorry.”

Jack knocked his shoulder against you with a little more purpose so you  turned to him. “Nope, none of that. I don’t mind, I got to see you, which is all I wanted anyway.”

How could he just say something like that? As if words like these didn’t bore themselves under your skin, living there forever, etching themselves into the white of your bones.

This casually, as if it didn’t just make your heart flutter the same way it did when you were eighteen, back when you had loved him. Still, in your barely illuminated room, late at night you let yourself linger. Let yourself pretend that his words held meaning. 

Let yourself pretend that the two of you were different.

You thought about the thousands of times you must have seen him just like this, in the dark, looking back at you. 

It was a weird memory that came to you, just then.

Back when the two of you had first met you had been crushing hard. It wasn’t really surprising, now looking back. You had never really gotten a lot of attention by boys growing up, so when he went out of his way to talk to you, you really had no choice but to fall for him. 

Liking him had become addicting. 

You could still remember the moment you thought he might like you back and the very same moment you knew it wasn’t, probably ever, going to work out between the two of you.

It was at a party, after you had just graduated. You had just come out of the bathroom, alone because your friend was finally, finally talking to the guy she liked. 

Then you picked up a friend’s voice somewhere down the corner, most likely from the kitchen. “C’mon your turn now. Who are you crushing on,” Aaron had said. They must still be playing a weird mixture of truth or dare and some other game you had already forgotten the name of.

Your mind immediately went to Jack, the way his hand had brushed yours when he had gotten you a drink earlier that night. 

“I don't?” Jack answered, slightly laughing, but there was an air of unease in his voice that you couldn’t help but notice. 

“C’mon, Jack don’t be like that,” someone else interjected, and suddenly you were a lot more invested in the conversation than just a moment ago. It was always like that when it was about him. 

“There are always so many girls throwing themselves at you, surely you want one of them,” you could hear the other guy’s jealousy from miles away but you weren’t sure if the others picked up on it too. 

“I’m serious, I barely have time for my friends already, let alone a girlfriend.” Jack said and there was this tiny spark of hope rising in your chest. Maybe you could change that. Maybe you could be the exception. 

“True,” Aaron agreed calmer than usual. You thought he might be noticing the tension waving off of the other guy. 

“There is no shame in admitting it,” the other guy doubled down, “what about that one girl? Short, brunette, on the track and field club.”

Oh god, he was describing your friend, the one you had just left with her crush. “Nah, wait I think she has a boyfriend, but what about her friend, the one that Kevin hangs out with.”

You. Shit, he was talking about you. Did you really want to hear Jack’s response? What if he said he didn’t like you? But what if he did?

“She is my friend too, you know,” Jack said, “but she is pretty, I guess.”

He guesses? That kind of really stung. You knew that there was nothing all that memorable about you, but it’s not like you were ugly. A thousand different insecurities that you thought you had worked through rose to the surface and you didn’t have the strength to push them back down. 

You had to escape, now, without being noticed and without listening to anything more. Still, your ear couldn’t help but pick up on the rest even as you pushed past that guy that sat behind you in math.

“Jack, don’t be like that,” the other guy insisted, “don’t you want to go up to her and just fuck her? I mean her ass-”

Humiliation. For some reason you felt humiliated and violated. You knew about locker room talk, but you had never wanted to be part of it. Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes and suddenly you could feel every single person that had touched any part of you today, suddenly questioning if it really was accidental. 

You had to get out, now. The static in your ear was loud and the bass vibrating through the soles of your feet seemed to turn it up even more. You had run away, texting the friend you came with some kind of bullshit excuse for leaving. 

The asphalt outside on the sidewalk was cold, but you sat down on it anyway. You just wanted to cry. Everything seemed so overwhelming and important all at once and you had no idea how to deal with all of it. 

Soon you were leaving high school for good, your friends were moving all across the country, you were so fucking lonely and the guy you had been crushing on for a better part of a year didn’t even think that you were worthy to look at. 

You drew your legs closer to your body and folded yourself up as much as possible. Growing up seemed scary all of a sudden. There was that one Lorde lyric that said that too, that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Suddenly people were streaming out of the house, all at once. You wiped your tears, looking up at what was happening. In the stream of people you couldn’t make out any of your friends.

Then you heard your name being called. It was Kevin, still standing at his door. He held Jack at the others shirt collar, as if he was holding up a particularly unruly cat that had gotten in trouble again. 

Your eyes must not have been red because when you came closer neither boy commented on it. “Get him home,” Kevin said and dumped a heap of Jack right in front of you. 

Jack glared back at where Kevin disappeared back into the house, eyes murderous. You had never really seen him act like that, especially to a friend. But then again how well did you really know him?

A beat of silence. You really wondered what on earth had happened for the party to just end. You shifted your weight on your feet. “Do you have a car?” you asked eventually. 

Jack brushed past you, “yeah. I’ll drive you home, didn’t drink anything.”

You followed him, but on the short walk back to his car neither of you said anything. 

The stereo remained off all the way back to your place. After you had stopped looking at him to try and figure out what had him in this bad of a mood, you looked outside. The neighbourhood was so familiar, and the horribly sad feeling from earlier came up again. 

You really needed some kind of distraction. “Thank you for driving me home.”

For a second he remained quiet and you really thought you were going to be ignored. He had always had a bit of a dramatic streak at times. “Of course.”

His expression remained scarily blank. “Can I ask what happened with Kevin?”

“Nothing,” he said, his gaze staring firmly ahead. Then, “I don’t like his friends.”

What kind of response was that? “Okay,” you tried, carefully, “then why did you come?”

“I didn’t know I didn’t like them before tonight,” he said. 

Then you looked at the way his hands were gripping the wheel, specifically at his knuckles. Wait- “did you punch one of them?”

He laughed, and the sound bounced off the small enclosure and some kind of happy feeling made your heart swell, even though you had been apprehensive about him just moments ago.

It was a lot longer than your comment had warranted. You really were a bit concerned about him. Should he be driving if he acted like this? “I might have.”

Before you could ask why, because you had never seen him actually punch anyone, he continued, “in my defense, he started it.”

“That’s a shitty defense,” you said, “that just means you have to be the one to take a step back first.”

He only shook his head in response but you were happy he was back to acting like that Jack you knew. “You would have punched him too, I just know it.”

“Sure,” you replied. You had never punched a person because you didn’t like them and you didn’t think you’d start anytime soon. 

“Trust me, you would have,” he said and left it at that. 

The two of you arrived at your place soon after, so you thanked him and left. 

The rest of the summer between highschool and college was spent getting over him, which you eventually succeeded at when he introduced his now ex-girlfriend to you and your friends. 

In college you went out on a few dates, but none of them ended up going anywhere. That was fine to you, because it just meant that you were prioritising other things now, like your studies and your friends. 

There wasn’t even anything all that similar between that memory and your current situation, but you drew the comparison anyway. His jaw was more refined now, his hair longer and his eyes seemed different now, a bit more mature maybe. Or maybe just a bit more tired. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked. 

It must have been a bit strange, you just looking at him. “You,” you replied honestly. “Do you remember that one party, way back, after high school where you punched someone?”

He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall, his throat exposed. Your gaze lingered there for a bit before returning to his face. Some kind of feeling almost bubbled to the surface at the sound and the matching sight.

“I do.”

“I never actually figured why you did that.” When his gaze remained firmly on your ceiling, you continued, “I feel like now enough time has passed for you to admit why.”

He smiled a bit. “There was this other guy, right? The one I punched, I mean.”

You nodded. 

“He was being a real dick about one of my friends, and when he didn’t stop talking about her I just kinda wanted him to shut up. Moved before thinking about it.”

“Asshole,” you commented, not about Jack. 

“Right?” he turned his head so that he looked back down to you, “after that one punch I came back to myself but before I knew it Kevin had dragged me out by my collar, shouting that everyone had to go.”

“He must have wanted to avoid a full on fight,” you said. 

“For sure, can’t even blame him.” With a mischievous gleam in his eyes he said, “but it felt really good to finally shut him up.”

You laughed, thinking that the entire situation was a lot more dramatic than it really had any reason to be. The laugh turned to a yawn by the end. 

“I should leave,” he said but you had the weird urge to ask him to stay. 

“Sorry, I’m a lot more tired than I thought,” you said instead.

“Don’t apologise for that,” he said, getting up. He ended up offering you a hand to help you get up as well even though you really didn't need it. You took it anyway. 

He picked up the bag that he had left at the door, opened it and turned to you. “I had fun.”

You smiled, “me too.”

“Good,” he offered you a smile in return. You saw his hand reach out and stop for just a second, but before you could ask him about it, he held it against your temple and leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. He lingered in your orbit for a bit longer than the duration of the kiss, just hovering above you. 

“See you soon,” he said, waving, and you replied the same. Then you closed your door and locked it. 

You didn’t need to hold your hand against your cheek to feel it burn. What was that? He had never done that before. He had never done anything like that before, ever.

You stumbled to your bathroom, and went through the motions of brushing your teeth and going on the toilet. When you finally crawled under your sheets, you let yourself sink down into them. 

Still, you were too tired to properly dissect the entire interaction so instead you closed your eyes. You drifted to sleep, your mind focusing on the tips of his ears that had seemed a bit flushed when he closed the door behind himself. 

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @hughescomplex @lupinslibraries @megaluke @cixrosie (send me an ask to be added!)

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #nhl #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl x reader #ame writes #jhgtfil

[necroangelz]

i love him so much, it just turns to hate . . .

i fake it so real, i am beyond fake !!

day 1 of @jiraidolls' event

“ a character you hate dislike from a media you love. ”

NATSUKI TUMBLR LAYOUTS! this was my first time making banners and i did pretty well i think.. ehehhee.... layouts can be used on other platforms but they were initially made for tumblr.

rambling under the cut. like/rb and credits appreciated!

NOW PLAYING: Doll Parts by Hole !!

another song that i previously wasn't familiar with until i discovered it in a character playlist!!! i like the song though. it reminds me of this friend of mine who likes hole. she once did a photoshoot similar to the album cover of this song i think.

OKAY ANYWAY. i crossed out "hate" to say dislike instead bc its not like i hate natsuki, not as much as i hate horropedia AHHAHAHHAHAH, but natsuki just... isn't a fave of mine. there's characters that i like more than her. tsunderes are just not my thing. but that's only when it comes to the canon game! she's really annoying in the game due to the nature of how it's written as a stereotypical dating sim. but i think she can be pretty cool when depicted in fanworks!

this was really fun and interesting to work on, since it was my first time creating banners from scratch and not using a photo i found online as a banner and editing it slightly and calling it a day. i kind of struggled trying to fill the space in the first banner and at first i didn't know what to do with it. also i'm not too satisfied with its colors but i don't really feel like changing it...

i did 2 kinds of pfps where it's a transparent sprite/photo and another where there's a frame. i think ones with transparent backgrounds are rather popular right now on tumblr so i wanted to edit those as well.

also, oh my god im listening to doll parts right now as i type this ramble and this song fits natsuki SO much?

lastly i joined this event quite late so ahahahha i hope i have enough time to complete the prompts, especially during such a busy week... why did i join 3 events again..............................

#👁️‍🗨️﹕ from the archives 𝜗𝜚 ︵ #jiraidolls #natsuki ddlc #doki doki literature club #ddlc natsuki #doki doki natsuki #natsuki ddlc layout #rentry graphics #rentry inspo #rentry overlay #rentry masks #rentry resources #natsuki icons ddlc #natsuki header ddlc #natsuki icon ddlc #natsuki banner ddlc #natsuki banners ddlc #natsuki headers ddlc #ddlc icons #doki doki icons #doki doki literature club icons #sayori ddlc #monika ddlc #yuri ddlc

[madwomansapologist]

doubt comes in | bg3 companions

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: You knew exactly what would welcome you back to camp. The alluring smell of Gale's cooking, the awful noises of Lae'zel working on a sword that don't need to be sharpened, Wyll practicing his dance moves. You clearly weren't expecting to see yourself. Or to be forced into fighting the companions you swore to never harm in order to prove Orin was playing with their minds. [3.4K]

warnings: orin being orin. well, you, actually. "prove who's the real you" trope. i mean imagine the level of anxiety that scenario induces because you want me to act like me? kitten, mommy don't fucking know who she is. bg3 level of violence. a lot of blood. body horror should be a tag? tav suffers slashing damage, but orin suffers psychic damage. angst. happy ending. shadowheart x tav x halsin. companions (lae'zel, astarion, gale, wyll, karlach, jaheira, minsc). camp followers (yenna, scratch, grub). background (orin, gortash, mizora, shar, cazador, silvanus).

Reaching Baldur's Gate didn't made life easier, but Gods did it helped. Danger is near, sometimes closer than a kiss, but this city is still your home. They can try, but no one can take that away from any of you.

Mizora can bargain and dissemble, but no lie coming from her burning lips will ever change the fact Wyll would do anything for this city. He had his first kiss in one of those bars. Gortash is a threat, but did he started counting his days? Karlach is coming for him, and he had it coming. She can still remember the vinegar taste on her mouth after her first spree.

Shar had her time to mess with Shadowheart's memories, to turn goodness into fear and desires into guilty. Shadowheart is learning how to swin. Long ago, before Cazador could even think of looking at him, Astarion walked on those streets. Cazador can see him as a walking corpse if he so desire, something that fell into decay, but Astarion is alive and free forever and evermore.

The world is a freaking mess, but so be it. That won't stop you from living. That won't stop any of you.

"Soldier! Over here," Karlach called for you, up on The Blushing Mermaid's balcony. You dodged the drunkards and ran upstairs to their table. They saved a seat for you. They always do. "What took you so long?"

They're always teasing you for being so controlling with their gold. That was an act of survival, to save for what matters, but now that you reached the city... You're still controlling it, Silvanus knows Astarion would waste it all without noticing, but you can allow your party some luxury from time to time.

You put the bags under the table, careful to not let them see what was inside them. "Just lost track of time," you sat between her and Minsc. "Did I miss much?"

You turned around, looking for a waiter, but a glass was dragged from across the table towards you. Halsin, sitting across from you at the round table, had already ordered your favorite drink. He always knows what you want even before you say it.

Your smile was subtle, the glass already rising to hide your mouth. You didn't use words to thank him, but your foot met his under the table. You dragged it along his leg, a hidden affection. A secret between you two.

"Oh, yes, Boo. Minsc agrees, her smile really seens different," Minsc whispered. Boo moved on his shoulder, sniffing around. "What are you hiding, my gentle friend?"

Perfume of night orchids, clothes fit for a vampire or whatever Astarion means by that, a recently released tome of evocation, instruments to improve weapons, a music box for a dancing hero, owlbear cub plush, new whittling knifes, a book about adventures Jaheira wasn't part of but is still somehow the main character, and stone sculpture of a certain miniature giant space hamster. "Nothing," you answered.

Halsin chuckled. "There is nothing you can't do, my heart. Except by lying, I must add."

"I just bought a few presents," it sounded almost defensive. Alright, maybe you really were a bit too controlling of the gold. Just a bit. "I'll give them after dinner."

Karlach chocked on her beer. "Are you feeling well, soldier? Have anyone forced you to waste your precious gold?"

"There is a hero coming through to help you, my friend," Minsc hit the table with closed fists. Your drink almost fell on your lap. "Tell Minsc who forced you and his boot shall find your wrongdoer!"

Karlach and Minsc tried to see what were in the bags during the walk back to camp, and you protected them with your life. They started a game of guessing what you had bought, never realizing you weren't participating on it.

Halsin took the bags from you, and with his free hand caressed yours. He kissed your knuckles, then your forehead. You melted against his touch. "Is it duck related?"

You chuckled, eyes still closed. "Fuck off, Bear."

Finally at camp, Halsin followed you to your tent .You saw when Wyll walking out of his tent, hair dripping wet, and smiled at him. Karlach and Minsc sat by the bonfire, still arguing about the possibility of receiving an ax as a gift.

You told Halsin to close his eyes so you could hide everything. "Alright, done."

You walked towards the bonfire, but Halsin grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. You linked your arms around his neck, ready to stand on tiptoe. "It's on your black chest, isn't it?"

You sighed, walking away from him. He tried to stop you, but you dodged Halsin easily. "Of course not," you lied. And he could tell.

You used a branch to stir the fire. You had the feeling it would be a cold night. Yenna was near it, stroking Grub's fur, and smiled at you. So young, so innocent. So unfair.

Lae'zel and Jaheira carried pans with food to the large table Gale conjured, and nodded on your direction. "Fifteen minutes, cub," said Jaheira. "Weren't you on watch?"

You denied with a movement of your head. Jaheira isn't the one to get confused with watches, neither are you. After all, you both organized all shifts.

"Are you hungry?" You stroke Yenna's hair, ignoring Grub in order to not scare him away. Kneeled in front of her, you threw the branch far away. Scratch ran to catch it. "I have strawberry and hon..."

"What the fuck is that?!"

You turned to Karlach, your sword suddenly so heavy on your side. She looked perfectly fine. Following her gaze, you understood it.

Shadowheart had her spear on hands, back from first watch to supper. And besides her, with a hand on the half-elf's waist, stood you.

One thing you can't deny Orin: that bitch is creative. You admit, it was smart. Half of the party left with you, half stayed at camp. It was only a matter of chosing the right moment to appear, making sure to say only the right words, and everything would work on her favor.

Smart, until she wasn't anymore. Because instead of aiming your companions quietly without raising doubts, you are back now. She is surrounded by the enemy. Cornered by her own actions.

You smiled to Yenna, her scared eyes shone upon you. "I need you to close your eyes. Can you do that for me?" As she put her tiny hands in front of her face, you raised from the floor. The smile was still there. "Orin."

She was behind you, but you knew Karlach made Nyrulna find a way to her hands. He's not on your vision field, but you promise Silvanus you'll kill yourself right then and there if Minsc and Boo aren't ready to fight and die beside you. The golden light on your periphery in theory could be from anything, but you knew it was Halsin waiting for your command to transform and attack.

The things you couldn't see didn't surprised you. Quite the opposite.

Jaheira's eyes shone, and without hesitation she turned into a fire myrmidion. Wyll, before careless, casted an armor on himself. Lae'zel had her sword on her back, but her movements showed she was nothing but ready.

They were looking at you.

As easy as that you understood. You're always thinking on the great scheme of things, careful about every movement and choice so at the end nothing will stop you from defeating the Absolute, but this isn't a game of Go. Orin didn't proposed a bet, one where all moves matter and any choice could change the final outcome. No. This is as simple as tic-tac-toe. The results depends only on doing the right first movement.

Orin isn't surrounded here.

You are.

Shadowheart hesitated, the spear uncomfortable on her hands, her skin paler. She gazed at you, at that thing, and you could almost see the doubt replacing the new found glow in her eyes.

"You finally decided to show up again," Orin said. She could immitate your voice perfectly. Even the words were something that could've been said by you. "Now we don't need to hunt you down."

You kept on staring at Shadowheart, ignoring her stained words. "Lua, you know who I truly am." You drew your sword, the golden glow illuminating your face within the light of the setting sun. "Fight beside me, my love. Like you have always done."

"Don't fall for her theatrics," replied Orin. If you didn't knew better, even you would fall for her tricks. "She is playing with your mind. Trying to control it like many attempt to before. Don't allow it."

In a quick motion, her spear cut through Orin's torso. Orin, you, stumbled back. You stood in front of Shadowheart, protecting her with your body from the changeling's response.

All Orin did was to add pressure to the cut. "Get away from her!" A necrotic energy came from her fingers, the same you are so used to control. You shouldn't have left your shield on your tent. "My love, she'll only hurt you."

Jaheira aimed at you, lava dripping from her transformed hand, but didn't attack because of how close Shadowheart was of you. Karlach got further away, now with a better view of camp. Minsc had his sword in hands, just as Wyll had a cloud of darkness aiming at him. Lae'zel was in front of Orin, eyes filled with determination.

They moved faster than you wanted to. The board getting new possibilities, and you worst problems to deal with. What strategy can overpower hers?

"On sight, soldier," Karlach screamed from distance. You could picture the spear on her hands, ready to be throw right in Orin's eyes. "One word."

"Ckh. Enough," ordered Lae'zel. "Pull yourself together before I pull you apart."

"That changeling is playing tricks with your mind, Lae'zel," said Shadowheart. Light came from her fingers. "Don't let her fool you."

"I know my leader," was her response. "You should know too, cleric."

"Can't any of you see her true goal?" Your voice echoed through the camp. "She isn't just trying to end me. She could've done this before, we all now she had chances. Orin wants you to fight one another, to break our bonds and divide us. Stay still, stay alert, and she won't have a choice but to end her disguise and attack with her own claws. Patience: that's the only thing she does not have."

With the noise, Gale and Astarion came out of the kitchen. "Who is..." Astarion didn't even had time to finish.

"It's me," you yelled. You had even forgot about them. Just more players for a game that should be won alone. "For Silvanus, I even said goodbye to each and every of you befo..."

You swear you saw a smirk on your duel's face. She fooled you too. "You fucking bitch."

You barely had closed your mouth when red strings of energy passed right beside you. Shadowheart's illuminated fingers were surrounded by darkness now. Gale's work, you knew.

"She is right," Lae'zel's words made you breath easier. It was more than just a smart move, it was a great plan, but Orin won't suceed for a very simple reason: her main goal is to hurt, and yours is to prevent it. Lae'zel stepped closer, her longsword in hands and eyes on Orin. "The wizard shouldn't have aimed at the Shadowheart, neither was she supposed to fight."

A sign of trust coming from her of all people could convince them all. Lae'zel cares, deeply, and wouldn't do something without being sure of it. You glared at the others, hoping Lae'zel's words had calmed them down. And it did. Their eyes were softer towards you. But those weren't the eyes you should've been watching closely.

You didn't saw when she moved. Didn't noticed the smell of danger floating on the air so near you. Didn't heard anything that would've warned you to defend yourself.

But you felt as Lae'zel rip your chest apart.

So much blood. You never would've guessed a mortal vessel could carry so much blood. It stained the silver, dripping from the longsword, splashed her face. It ran down your body, penetrated the ground and its roots, fed the plants..

Red. It was all you could see. All you could think about. Your lungs only had space for it. They burned. Your trembling hands moved towards your ripped belly, your insides staining them, and held the sword. It cut your palms.

"Bloodlust won't solve our problems," someone said. You knew that voice. Was it yours? Lae'zel forced the sword down, then pulled it out of you. "The changeling's is all we need to spill."

You were on your knees. Did you fell? Were you kicked? Are you praying? You must be. You probably were. Who do you pray to? Have you ever prayed before?

Kneeled beside you, a woman talked to you. Her mouth moved, a red liquid dripping from her face and hands. Her touch was warm. She felt like home. Shadowheart. Her eyes reflected a golden light, but they dissapeared so quickly.

"Let me go!" She tried to fight Lae'zel's hold, but the warrior was stronger. "She'll die because of you. She'll die and I will never ever forgive you for that, you damned gith!" The screams turned into cries. "She saved me, let me save her!"

"It's me," the doppelgander said. She held Shadowheart by the cheeks, trying to get her to calm down. "Lua, love, it's me. Just me."

"Get out of me," Shadowheart spat on her face. Lae'zel pushed her away, trying to prevent Shadowheart from doing something she would regret. "Why no one here listen to me?!"

"Stop squirming," Lae'zel hissed. "Look into her eyes. Look and tell me you don't see our leader."

Shadowheart eventually stopped fighting, her body exausted from crying. The changeling was in front of her, you were in front of her. She smelled like you. Talked like you. Felt like you.

"Is that really you?"

"Of course it's me," lied Orin. "Please, look into my eyes. We were together all day. You know I haven't left camp. Please, please, trust me."

Spikes grew, surrounding Orin. She hissed, the ivy twining around her legs and tearing the skin open. Halsin were throw to the ground before he could end the healing spell.

"Halsin!" Shadowheart screamed. She almost escaped Lae'zel's hold. "No!"

"She was with us all day, Halsin," Wyll said as he paralised the druid. "We know it's her. Don't fight back."

That didn't stop Karlach from throwing her spear near the Blade's feet. "You fucking idiot!"

Mizora clapped, enjoying the show.

Jaheira burned Mizora before losing her wild shape. She will come back, she always does, but that never stops Jaheira. At least they will have some moments of respect.

She wandered towards Minsc. He kneeled on the floor, and for a moment she feared something happened to him when she wasn't paying attention.

"She told me not open my eyes," cried Yenna. "I can't open they yet. She told me not to."

"Have you ever seen my miniature giant space hamster?" Yenna didn't react to him. "No, Boo, she nee..."

Jaheira kneeled beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You did well, cub," she forced herself to laugh. "You were so brave. Let's get you and your red cat something to eat, alright?"

A dry sound reached their ears, stopping every and each one of them. You fell to the ground, as firm as an empty sack, whimpers leaving your mouth as you slipped into unconsciousness.

No fighting. No yelling. A quiet end. A peaceful one.

So easy.

Astarion grabbed Gale's shoulders, whispering so the others wouldn't notice. "It smells like her," Astarion swallowed hard. "I know it."

"Are you really sure of that?" Gale watched you, saw all your blood spreading through the ground, and looked into his eyes again. "Because if you're not, if your guess is wrong, then it will be our guts on the ground. Do you really trust your nose that much?"

Astarion gave him a smirk, but Gale could see the fear he was trying to hide. "Will you cover me, darling?"

"What's your plan?"

"Please. If you think I have one, then you don't know me at all."

As the spike dissapeared, Orin held Shadowheart's face again. "Think of everything we faced together. The nautiloid, the grove, the shadows. Wasn't I beside you all this time? Have I ever turned my back on you?"

"No." That Shadowheart knew the answer. "Never."

She looked up to the moon, praying for assistance. When her eyes fell down, she saw the body on the floor. And what surrounded it.

Scratch sad down beside you. He nudged your shoulder with his nose, waiting for you to stop with that game. He didn't like it. It wasn't fun like the others. But as he moved your body, she saw something reflecting the sunset. A flask. Concentrating, Shadowheart saw the contour of something. Of Astarion's body.

Gale had blue rays of light coming out of his eyes.

"Exactly, my love," her cheeks were pinched. The long nails digged on them for so long. "I've never turned on you. Not when you tried to kill Lae'zel. Not when you lied to me again and again. Or when you showed us how low you would go for your goddess. Remember the fear on the Nightsong's eyes? Remember how I pretended not to know all you would do to her if I wasn't there? A cleric who doesn't know where to lay her faith, a torturer so easily deceived, a coward unable to make the right decisions. That's why you never turned on me, right? Because I make the decisions you can't. I carry all the guilty for you. Because it's easier when I control everything. Don't you like it? That you don't need to use your brain when I am around? Wouldn't you give your memories to me if I asked? I know you would. I know you will."

Your head fell. The bone cracking, the skin stretching. They could hear as it moved, as it turned into something else. The shoulders falling, elbows breaking in half, the spine bending until it touches the bloody ground. The last snap, deep and long.

And from a thin cloud of dust, Orin appeared.

"Look at it. Crawnling under my fe..."

Nyrulna wasn't near Wyll, deep on the ground, neither did it came back to Karlach's hands. With accurate aim, the trident pierced Orin's ribs. Her blood joined yours, and the pale body fell where yours once lay.

Taking your time, you walked towards her. Stepping on the changeling's stomach, you ripped the trident from her insides. "I will give you a glorious death," you growled. "I'll make Bhaal wish I was his chosen."

You kneeled beside her, pressing the trident against her neck, then lowered your face until her ear. "I'll make him regret ever settling for you," you whispered.

Her eyes shone. "How... you know," she could barely say anything. "My... sib..."

You squeezed her cheeks, shutting her up. Then you caressed it, getting her skin dirty with your blood. "I know shit about you," you replied. "But I can tell you would never be anyone's first choice."

Orin can believe she escaped, if it's that what she desires. That you were too slow to stop her from teleport to wherever she deemed safe. That you were all bark and no bite. The truth is that she was wrong about you from the start.

You like the hunting.

You dropped Nyrulna to the ground, and threw yourself into Shadowheart's arms. “She lies,” you whispered. "She deceives and hurts and maims. Nothing was true. You're nothing that she said."

Quietly, Shadowheart hugged you. She breathed in your scent, felt your touch, heard your voice. You, you, you. She cried against your body. You.

Looking at the rest of your party, you breathed in. "We need a code," you said. "If we ever get into this sort of situation again, we need to say..."

You bite your lips, trying to think of something. Something you wouldn't use in another situation. Something that would be unique, impossible to confuse the meaning.

"Gold," you chose. "Or the rest of us are allowed to go for the kill."

Lae'zel cleared her throat. "Fair enough."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#oc: liliana wilde #kind!druid!tav #orin the red #shadowheart #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x tav #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel x tav #lae'zel #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 x tav #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin #wyll ravengard x tav #wyll ravengard #karlach #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #gale dekarios #jaheira #minsc #orin the red x reader #shadowheart x halsin #halsin x shadowheart

[zeltqz]

stress reliever - k.nanami

fem!reader, boyfriend nanami, established relationship, reader is a buisness gyal, stress from work, mentions of bitchy co-worker rivalry, cunnilingus, overstim wc: 1.2k

Nanami sat on the couch, a pen in his hand doing a wonderful job at scratching his undercut as he scribbled down onto his notepad. The tv played his favourite show in the background. The front door unlocked and you ambled inside, closing the door behind you. 

He put his pen down and watched you slump down on the opposite couch, landing face first into the cushions. 

“Hey, are you okay? What’s the matter?” he asked. 

You sat up and tossed your bag on the couch. There was a pout on your face that he didn’t like seeing, so he opened his arms wide and put his notepad on the coffee table, freeing up space on his lap and gestured for you to come. 

You trudged over towards him and plopped onto his lap sideways, your head resting against his shoulder. He enclosed his arms around you and kissed your forehead. “What’s wrong sweetie?”

You spoke but your words were muffled by your face in his neck. He laughed as your sentence tickled his neck and nudged you once again. “Talk to me.”

“I’m just…stressed,” you replied after a long heavy exhale. He shifted you more on his lap, your legs swinging over to straddle him. Your arms looped around his neck, scratching gently at his baby hairs.

He reached behind his head and grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles one by one. “Is it that girl from work?” 

“Yes. She might get the promotion before I do. Fucking kiss-ass,” you hissed. Nanami’s laugh fanned breezy against the back of your hand and you mumbled, “it’s not funny.”

He pressed one last kiss to your hand before putting it back around his neck. 

“You’ll get the promotion. You’re better than her.”

“No I’m not,” you mumble.

“You are. Promotions take time. Even if she gets it first it doesn’t take away from you or make her better by default. So don’t feel bad about it.” He states his wisdom but you’re not paying attention, too busy sulking. 

He noted that and sighed. You were placed on your back on the couch and he opens your legs wide enough to slip between them, hovering above you. “Lemme make you feel better.”

You frowned. “How? Are you going to talk to my boss? No offence but that feels like a parent conference meeting—”

He shook his head and leaned down to plant a kiss on your neck. “I can help you in other ways.” He began to unbutton your shirt and once he got the last one, you sat upright to remove your arms from the sleeves. He sat back and watched as you reached behind you, unclasping your bra. 

You hung it over the edge of the couch and settled back into the couch.  Nanami’s sole focused was laying kisses down your body, starting at your neck down your chest. He reaches your tits and you put your hands in his hair, running your hands through them as he sucks your right nipple. He kept sucking passionately until your nipples started to harden in his mouth. 

“Kento, please,” you whispered, wanting more.

He shook his head and moved onto your other tit, removing your hands from his hair and pinning them above you. “Be patient.”

“But I want—” You stopped talking when his teeth grazed your nipple. His tongue licked flat against the pebbled bud, flicking it a couple times, enough times to make you moan softly, the sound slowly driving him crazy. 

Filling that desire, he began kissing down your belly until he reached between your legs, shifting back on the couch to settle against your legs. 

He took your pencil skirt and pulled it down your thighs, throwing it on the floor without care. You lifted your hips up, letting him pull your tights and panties down. He didn’t take them off completely, leaving them hanging off your ankles and lifted your legs up and over his head, your legs dangling on his shoulders. 

You twisted your body, grabbed a cushion and set it at an angle, biting your lip as you looked down at your boyfriend between your legs kissing your thighs. The pain of his fingernails digging into your thighs stung but only added to the pleasurable feeling of his lips getting impossibly closer to your cunt. 

He licked along your flaps, his tongue adding more slick to the wetness already pooling between your legs and sucked. His tongue flicked your clit, alternating between that and sucking, an overwhelming sense of arousal filling your veins. 

Nanami loved eating you out; he loved everything about you. Your taste, the way you squirmed underneath him whenever he sucked too much on your clit, the way your thighs felt in his hands, the way your legs squeezed around his neck and trapping him in place.

He looked up and over the curve of your boob, he saw you biting your lip hard to stop any noises spilling out. His eyebrows creased and he stopped his movements, pulling away. You instantly noticed and looked down at him. “Why’d you stop?” Your voice was soft and disappointed.

“You’re being too quiet.”

“Sorry…” you muttered. 

He bent back down, mumbling it’s okay between kisses to your clit before sucking it back into his mouth. He switched between sucking and licking, successful in making your head go foggy. You let your moans out, not bothering hiding them anymore.

The sensation became too extreme, drowning in bliss as you felt your orgasm bubbling inside you. From the way your legs squeezed around his neck, he knew you were about to cum. He flicked his tongue between your folds and you tried pushing him away, but his arm muscles flexed as he tensed and held you down. 

Your hips snapped up, using all your strength to run away from the feeling of your impending orgasm. “Kento, I’m…!” You moaned, cutting off your words as your vision went white, eyes squeezing tight as you felt yourself gush on his face, almost suffocating him between your legs.

Your limp legs unwrapped from his neck and let them drop onto the couch as he sat up and wiped his mouth. You flushed, embarrassed when you saw how wet his lower face was, lips and chin soaked in your wetness. “...sorry.”

He chuckled, the low and raspy sound stirring in your belly. He hovered on top of you and you held onto the sides of his face, kissing him slowly. He pinned you back into the couch and introduced his tongue into the kiss. The slow way you began suckling on it made his head spin, groaning lowly. 

You could feel more of your taste on his tongue and pulled away laughing. You used the edge of your arm to wipe at his face. “It got everywhere.”

He smiled at you and pecked your lips. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

His response slowly made you wetter and he kissed you again, his hand trailing low between your legs, running a single finger through your now drenched folds. He lifted his drenched hands to your eye-line. “Still wet?”

You flushed, embarrassed once more and he slowly pushed you back down onto the couch, about to settle between your legs when you stopped him. “You don’t have to. We’ll be here all day…”

He looked down at the wetness between your legs then back at you. “It’s fine.” He licked another stripe, tasting you once again. “I got all day.”

MAIN MASTERLIST

ok i caved and wrote for nanami 🙄😑 jjk is slowly overtaking my whole brain its crazy...gojo next...

#— jjk </3 #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami

[goliathgastropod]

Where did you learn to draw the pokemon pixel art style so well? Do you know any video tutorials, or could you do a small post with the techniques you use? If not, that's okay

I can assure you this post Will Not Be Small.

My interest in spriting started in I want to say 2012 or 2013 when I started binge watching pokemon fusion videos. mostly from creators like SuperSonicGX

Back In My Day we called completely original sprites scratch sprites, I still use that terminology and get confused when people don't these days. But that's just a side note. for resources and general tips I do have plenty!

The classic is, has been, and will always be the dragonfly cave spriting guide

this scorpion means everything to me.

When spriting in any style the first, most important rule is learning what limits you have. color, size, even specific palettes for some games.

For the first two generation pokemon games you had three separate sprite sizes, 40x40, 48x48, and 56x56, as seen here.

along side this requirement, these sprites also had four colors

white, also used for the background, black, a light tone, and a dark tone as seen with our friend Kingler here

the big rules to follow with spriting are remember to use space efficiently. Sometimes the whole canvas isn't needed to get the point of a sprite across!

techniques I personally use for spriting are used mostly during the sketching stage.

Such as blobbing in a silhouette and then filling it with rough color to get an idea of what to do, as seen here

helps immensely with the spriting process and means you can get sketches out very quickly.

I do want to make my own soft tutorials eventually, just timelapses to show off the process. But hopefully all this as is helps!

#pixel art

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 6

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader chapter summary: a new face threatens what you've started to build with mat and nora & you recieve some much needed advice from jax

warnings: angst, not edited, mentions of food, a sprinkle of fluff word count: 1.7k (sry its not longer i am trying my best lol) authors note: hi so it's been a month and change but i am finally able to present to you guys, part 6!! thank you for the continuous love on this story. your likes, reblogs & comments mean the WORLD to me!!! someone said nora needs to start a parent trap - don't worry, she's on it <3 quick important notes: the first bit in italics is a flashback. not sure if I will do many more of them. second, i have no idea how many more parts there will be to this series because i feel like i've barely scratched the surface of what can be done. and last, im sorry if your name is calista. enjoy and please don't hate me :)

requests are open. masterpost masterlist tag form askbox

It wasn’t often that you and Mat had time to yourselves. He was busy with school and hockey, and you had a lot going on so when the opportunity arose, you always made time for each other. Liana was at a sleepover and his parents were gone out for dinner with friends so the two of you had the house to yourselves for a few hours, which as teenagers, wasn’t often. His parents were always good about giving you and Mat space but you were still teenagers, after all. 

You were curled up together on his bed with some random movie playing in the background but you weren’t paying attention to it. You were thinking about graduation that was fast approaching and what the aftermath would look like. It wasn’t a surprise that the two of you would be going separate ways once you graduated high school. Although not set in stone, Mat was on his way to the National Hockey League to an unknown team. It wasn’t realistic for you to wait to see where he would end up and then figure something out for school. You had scholarships and your heart set on UBC, not quite yet ready to move too far from home. 

But Mat, well he could go anywhere. 

You’d toyed the idea of a long distance relationship in your head but you always ended up realizing that it wasn’t logical. Mat would probably be playing on a team thousands of miles away and you were going to be busy with university. Sure, there were holidays and summers but going from being basically attached at the hip to hardly seeing each other. 

“What’re you thinking ‘bout?” Mat suddenly mumbled. His hand had been rubbing your back but when it stopped, you thought he had fallen asleep. 

“Graduation,” you said and his body stiffened. The difference between the two of you was that you were an overthinker and a planner whereas Mat was a go with the flow type of person. He didn’t think about things until he had to. 

When he didn’t say anything, you peered up at him. He was frowning, staring at the ceiling in deep thought. You reached out to smoothen the wrinkle between his eyes and he looked down at you and smiled. 

“If I was selfish enough to ask you to come with me wherever I end up, would you say yes?” 

It was a theoretical question because you knew he would never be that selfish. Neither were you though, because you would never ask him to give up his dream. 

“No,” you admitted and his smile didn’t waver but something flickered in his eyes. 

***

As a general rule of thumb, you don’t introduce Nora to anyone you date until the three month mark. It isn’t something that you have to worry about often because most of the guys you meet run the second they find out you have a daughter. It doesn’t bother you most of the time; you have your family and friends, and Nora is your number one priority so if someone has a problem with you having a kid, they aren’t worth your time. 

So, it didn’t occur to you that it was a conversation you should have had with Mat. You thought that he had enough common sense not to bring the girl you recently learned that he’s casually seeing, to lunch with you and Nora. 

It takes all of your willpower to stay in your seat and not take Nora and leave when they sit across from you. Mat seems completely unfazed by the sudden tension in the room and it hurts on some level because he used to know you so well that if something was upsetting you, he always knew. 

But that was when you were kids.

You don’t get a chance to say anything because Nora gives the girl a onceover, and wrinkles her nose. 

“Who’s that?” She asks in such a bitter tone that you’re torn between scolding her or laughing. 

The girl, to her credit, doesn’t even blink an eye. She just offers her hand to Nora and introduces herself. 

“I’m Calista, and you must be Nora,” she says, still holding her hand out and waiting for your daughter to shake it. When she realizes that Nora is not going to respond, she quickly brings her hand back and lays them in her lap. Mat looks absolutely horrified, either by Nora’s behavior or the fact that you haven’t scolded her. He’s still not sure if he’s allowed to reprimand her when she acts out and often looks to you to be the bad guy. You’re enjoying this a little too much though, especially when he coughs and gestures to you.

“Cal, this is-”

“His baby mama,” you cut him off, smiling sweetly at her. He’s not getting off the hook for ambushing you, and sure, maybe it’s a little childish of you but you have heard the stories from Liana already and you know you won’t like this girl. 

“Um, nice to meet you,” she says awkwardly, but there’s something in her eyes that tells you she isn’t the innocent, sweet, new girlfriend of Mathew Barzal. There’s definitely a different personality hiding behind the curtain. 

“Have you guys ordered already?” Mat asks.

“No, we were waiting on you,” is your reply and you make sure to emphasize on the word you. He doesn’t humor you with a response, instead looking at the menu and asking Calista what she wants. 

Lunch goes about as terrible as you expected, with Nora acting out because of a new person suddenly joining the outings she was used to only being the three of you. She ignores Mat’s attempts at talking to her, opting to read a book she brought along and gives Calista the stink eye anytime she speaks. You’re fine with her wanting to ignore Calista, but you don’t want her relationship with Mat to suffer because of this, so towards the end of lunch, you excuse yourself to the washroom in hopes that she might talk to Mat if you step away. 

The only problem is that Calista decides to tag along with you, claiming she needs to wash her hands. You suspect there will be something more and your suspicions are proved true when you’re washing your hands and she walks up next to you. 

“The whole kid-trap thing is really cute,” she says, fixing her hair. “Just keep in mind that it’s me in his bed every night.” 

She doesn’t give you a chance to say anything before she quickly walks out of the restroom. You stand in shock for a moment, because you haven’t had a girl talk to you like that since high school. Liana wasn’t wrong when she told you there was something off about the new girl Mat was seeing, but this teenage-like attitude? This isn’t something that Nora is going to be around.

You storm out of the restroom, planning on taking Nora and leaving right away but you stop short when you see Mat and Nora talking. She’s giggling about something he must have said and the fondness and love in his eyes towards her is almost enough to make you stay but one look at Calista, reminds you why you were leaving in the first place. So, you walk over to the table, picking up Nora from her chair even though she’s capable of walking herself and tossing a twenty on the table. You don’t look at Mat before you leave, only calling out a goodbye over your shoulder. 

Nora doesn’t say anything until you’re buckling her seatbelt. 

“I didn’t like her,” she says casually.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Me neither.”

*** 

Mat blows up your phone with calls and texts but you ignore them. As soon as you left the restaurant, you planned on driving straight home and you knew that was where Mat would look first so instead you drove around aimlessly until you ended up in Jax’s driveway. Nora fell asleep about twenty minutes ago and you didn’t want to wake her, so you sent him a text to come out to your car. You watch as Jax comes out of his house and runs down the driveway in bare feet, climbing in your car and closing the door quietly. 

“It went that bad, huh?”

You’re quiet for a moment before leaning forward and resting your head on the steering wheel and taking a deep breath. 

“I feel like Mat and I are stuck in this constant cycle, you know?” you mutter quietly.. “Like, two steps forward and then five back. Everytime I think we’re making progress, something happens and I can’t help but wonder if I should have let him in her life at all. I’ve been a mom for 6 years, and Mat has only been a parent for a few weeks so the rational part of me knows I can’t be too hard on him, but I feel like we’re not making any progress and this is just going to end up bad, especially for Nora.”

Jax knows you well, and doesn’t say anything right away. He lets you say and feel your own thoughts out loud before giving his opinion. 

“Want me to sugarcoat anything?” he asks and you lift your head to look at him. Jax is looking at you with slight concern so you know he’s about to give you his exact thoughts. 

You shake your head and he sighs. 

“I think you still have feelings for Mat,” he says and when you open your mouth to cut him off, he stops you. “I’m not saying that you’re still in love with him, but you have something going on in your head that is creating chaos with the relationship you have with him now. You said he’s doing well with Nora, yeah?”

You nod, but don’t say anything. 

“If he’s doing well with Nora, you shouldn’t be having these doubts about if you should have let him in her life. You’re her mom, you know what’s best and if you really felt like it wasn’t working, you would have stopped it right away. You are the problem, whatever lingering feelings you are holding inside, you’ve got to figure them out.”

For a split second, you hate Jax. For a split second, you want to yell and scream and swear at him because he’s right.

“He has a girlfriend,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Jax says. “Why are you upset about it?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t say anything until you look at him. 

“I think you do,” he replies.

You hate that he’s right.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @alilstressyandlotdepressy @teapartydreams @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @cavill83 @bellstwd @alwaysclassyeagle

if you'd like to be added or taken off the list please let me know <3 also if you asked to be tagged and wasn't, it was because when i typed in your user, it didn't come up. send me a msg & we can figure it out.

#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x y/n

[ickyblickyy]

★彡 EXPLOSIVE HEARTS 彡★

pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

sypnosis: upon losing feelings for your boyfriend monoma, you start developing a new attraction towards the football team's quarterback. the only problem is, you two have never met. but that's where your bestest friends come in.

two | series m.list | four

THREE. undying love

NOVEMBER 27TH

1:47 PM

you hear the ring of the bell as soon as you and your friends enter the cozy cafe that recently opened up. it was cute; baby blue colored walls decorated with fairy lights and soft music playing in the background. the space gave you peace of mind, taking away all the stress that was bubbling up deep inside you.

you all made your way to a booth that was big enough to accommodate all six of you. after getting yourselves situated, you found yourself sitting in between shinsou and todoroki with midoriya sitting in front of you, uraraka and iida on either side of him.

you noticed a menu on the table and picked it up. you looked through the menu and decided on what you wanted, spicy ramen and strawberry boba. everyone took their turn looking through the menu and after several minutes, everyone knew what they wanted to order. midoriya and uraraka offered to go make the orders in line while the rest of you stayed back, to which you all agreed.

“so,” shinsou started, breaking the silence and turning to look at you. you look at him with a raise of your eyebrows, indicating that you were listening.

“when are you going to confess your undying love to bakugou?” shinsou asked, smirking at the way your nose scrunched up and the very obvious blush creeping onto your face.

“hitoshi, be serious. we don’t even know each other,” you replied, rolling your eyes as your best friend attempted to wriggle his eyebrows, making him look dumb.

“if you wanted to, you could get to know him, l/n,” iida said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, one of these days you two are bound to talk since we’re friends with his friends,” shinsou added.

“yeah, but—” you started before todoroki cut you off.

“speak of the devil,” the boy said and you all looked over to where his gaze was pointed at. a pink-haired girl with four guys following behind her was approaching your table, all of whom you were familiar with due to having at least one class with them.

however, one guy in particular caught your eye; his spiky ash-blond hair and his piercing red gaze were pleasing to the eye. you thought his eyes were the prettiest thing ever (that’s a lie—even though you liked bakugou’s eyes, no one could compete with the beauty of todoroki’s eyes).

shinsou smirked when he saw exactly who your eyes landed on first and started obnoxiously nudging your side with his elbow. you looked at him with creased eyebrows before lightly slapping his arm, muttering something along the lines of how he needed to behave for once.

“hey, guys!” mina exclaimed, stopping by your table.

“hey, mina!” you smiled at her, always pleased to see your happy-go-lucky friend. you liked that about mina, she always brought positivity into your life.

“these are my friends. i’m sure you know them,” mina said, pointing to the boys behind her. the boys you recognized as kirishima, kaminari, and sero all greeted you while bakugou stayed silent.

“hey, boys,” you said back, not noticing the way bakugou’s eyes landed on you.

“d’ya mind if we sit with you guys?” kirishima asked, scratching the back of his neck. “the place is real packed and there’s no tables left.”

“of course, kirishima! the more the merrier!” iida exclaimed, scooting over to make space for the group.

“this’ll be a great opportunity to catch up, won’t it?” shinsou asked with a smirk on his face, subtly winking at you.

and this is how you found yourself sitting between shinsou and todoroki once again. however, now there was kaminari on shinsou’s left and sero next to kaminari. across from sero was uraraka with midoriya on her right and bakugou on his right. next to bakugou was kirishima, mina, and iida. it was a pretty packed table, but you didn’t mind at all.

what you did mind was that somehow, bakugou ended up across from you. shinsou was having the time of his life watching your reactions every time you and bakugou made eye contact by accident.

when your food came, you were delighted, having been ready to eat since you left the dorms. as you were sipping on your boba, you heard bakugou kiss his teeth which made you look up at him.

“what’s wrong?” kirishima asked, a concerned expression on his face.

“they got my fuckin’ order wrong. i asked for spicy ramen and they gave me katsudon,” bakugou replied with an obviously annoyed tone. “how the fuck do you even mix that up?”

you don’t know what came over you, nor do you care to even understand, but a surge of confidence suddenly bursts through you. you pushed your untouched bowl of spicy ramen towards bakugou before speaking.

“you can have mine.”

everyone paused to look at you, only your friends staring at you in utter shock. you would never willingly give someone your food, even if it was just a trade. shinsou and todorki shared a knowing look before shinsou started smirking, causing todoroki to roll his eyes.

“nah, it’s fine, l/n. we don’t want to trouble you, especially after invading your hangout,” kirishima said, furrowing his eyebrows. “we can just fix his order.”

“no, really, it’s fine. the line is long anyway,” you said, pointing to the line behind your table for emphasis. “we can just switch and finally enjoy our food in peace.”

kirishima looked at bakugou who just sat in silence, staring at y/n. kirishima didn’t miss the blush spreading across bakugou’s cheeks either. he just nodded at you with a smile on his face and started digging in.

you finally looked at bakugou again and he quickly looked away, trying to hide the blush he knew was on his face. he pushed his bowl towards you and said, “thanks or whatever.”

you smiled softly at him before you took the bowl and immediately started eating. soon after, everyone was immersed in their own conversations while enjoying their food. bakugou couldn’t keep his eyes off of you which didn’t go unnoticed by everyone besides you.

as you were talking to shinsou and scrolling through instagram, you suddenly got a text from one of your cheer sisters that read, ‘bro wtf’, followed by a picture. you stopped talking and furrowed your eyebrows which caught shinsou’s attention. he looked down at your phone to see what made you stop, but as soon as you clicked the message, the smirk that was always etched onto his face dropped to a frown.

the picture that she sent made your heart drop to your stomach. it was a picture of monoma making out with a girl that was sitting on his lap. midoriya had noticed your mood switch even though he was a little far from you. he had caught shinsou’s eye and had silently asked what was wrong. shinsou mouthed, ‘monoma’, and midoriya frowned.

with a tilt of his head towards the door, midoriya silently asked shinsou to console you elsewhere, knowing full well how you felt about showing your vulnerability around people. shinsou nodded before tugging on your sleeve.

“guys, ‘m gonna take y/n back to her dorm. she’s not feeling well,” shinsou said. he turned to look at kaminari and sero and they silently got up to let you and shinsou go.

“aww, feel better, babe,” mina pouted as she watched you pick your boba up. “i’ll see you back at the dorms later.”

you mumbled a ‘thanks’ before you got up to leave with shinsou. however, bakugou suddenly stopped you with a call of your name. everyone, besides you, raised their eyebrows in confusion at bakugou. he never called anyone by their name upon first meeting them, usually making up some nickname for them based off of their appearance.

bakugou held his hand out towards you with money in it. you tilted your head to the side before asking, “what’s this for?”

“for the food,” bakugou huffed.

you chuckled before putting your hands up in a defensive manner. “it’s fine! our food was the same amount of money anyways. you don’t owe m—”

bakugou cut you off with a glare, “just take it before i change my mind.”

you nodded sheepishly and took the money before thanking him. after that encounter, you and shinsou bid your friends goodbye before walking out of the cafe.

todoroki noticed something that no one else did. he saw the way bakugou’s growing annoyance faded away into a little frown as he watched you and shinsou leave. it wasn’t his usual frown that he kept on his face everywhere he went, no, it was much deeper than that.

tag list: @kotoprincesa @chrofeisnightmaregf @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @blamemef0rit @iridescentrays @archer-fb @bakugouswh0r3 @singingcherri6 @parker-webs @polarbvnny @lupinandout @thebestrouge

© ickyblickyy 2023 please do not steal, copy, or repost my work onto other platforms.

#⋆.ೃ࿔* cloud nine #smau #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia smau #my hero academia smau #bnha texts #mha texts #boku no hero academia texts #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou smau #bnha fanfic #katsuki bakugou x you #mha bakugou #my hero academia bakugou #katsuki #bakugou #bnha x female reader #fluff #social media au

[papermatisse]

the ultimatum || J.WW

♗ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader

♗ genre: angst

♗ word count: 6.3k

♗ warnings: argument, break up, family problems, depression, overthinking, uhh

♗ synopsis: wonwoo is living a peaceful and happy mundane life with his partner, though outside forces and responsibilities prompt wonwoo to make a tough decision.

♗ (a/n): hello :) I have written smth :) this is for this request that I got in october and I've only just now gotten to writing it bc I finished my semester finally :)) thank you anon for your unrelenting patience I am so so so sorry for taking this long to write this. I v much so appreciate your understanding and your leniency on me 😭🙏❤️

main masterlist

It was silent. Nothing but the low hum of his radiator whirring somewhere in the background, serving as the sole ambience to fill the dreadful, awful silence that plagued the dingey, rundown apartment. He sat on his couch, the rough material scratching along the back of his neck as he looked up at the ceiling with this dazed, thousand mile stare. The haze of delirium had haunted him for days now, at first merely muddling his thoughts into this droning ambiguity that left him empty and monotonous. Though soon it seeped into the outer edges of his character, skin paling like death, lips settled into a permanent scowl, eyes clouded with no emotion—or perhaps that look was him drowning and wrought with every emotion his feeble mind could conjure up.

There were specks of happiness dabbled in the disordered web of thoughts in his mind. They derived from the lot of memories in the archives of his head, playing on repeat and reminding him of better days.

When he first met (y/n), bemused by the sight of this girl dressed to the nines yet soaked to the bone. A flimsy jacket, just as drenched as she, lay helplessly above her head as a makeshift and utterly unsuccessful umbrella of sorts from the storm raging outside. He watched her carefully, glancing every so often as he wiped away at the counter. She at first stood there, taking in her surroundings with what seemed to be a mixture of confusion and awe. Though soon, she seemed to catch her bearings as she navigated over to his bar, carefully sliding onto a booth as if it were an entirely new contraption to her.

"What's your poison?" He asked her as he made his way to her side. The sound of his voice had startled her greatly, as she near jumped out of her seat, head whirling to face the sudden addition to her solitude.

"I'm sorry?" She replied. Her own voice was far too soft for a bar setting, though he was thankfully able to catch on to her and the utterly hopeless stare she gave him. With a soft chuckle, he leant over the bar, drawing as close as he could to her without invading her space.

"What drink can I get you?"

She was quiet at first with this stunned expression, blinking at him in a stupor. Quickly shaking her head, she averted her gaze to the countertop.

"I'll just have water please."

A simple request, though he couldn't really argue, merely filling a glass with water and sliding it over.

"Can I at least get you a lemon to top off your beverage?"

"Sure," She replied, a small smile spreading across her face at his inquiry, and he felt just the slightest bit accomplished in his duties as a bartender.

Again, he watched her carefully as he continued with work and as she nursed the drink before her. She had finally shed the useless article of clothing from her head, placing it in her lap with a defeated sigh. She really was quite overdressed for a bar setting, wearing a designer dress suited more for a business meeting than for day drinking. It only served to further pique his curiosity, and as the time passed by and the rain outside refused to let, he saw his moment to answer his questions.

"So what brings you to this fine establishment? Aside from the obviously satisfying atmosphere." He smiled to himself as she chuckled at his mannerisms.

"As much as I love this fine establishment so far," she began, widening his smile at her own jests, "it was the first place I could run into when the rains started." He hummed, still looking at her with unwavering eyes, and she attempted to meet his strong gaze, though faltered at the end. With a sigh, she continued, falling under the silent peer pressure of his eyes urging her to continue. "I attended a meeting for my dad. It didn't really agree with me, so I left. Before I could catch a ride home, it started raining, so I ran here."

"Sounds like a pretty rough day." She agreed with a nod, fingers absentmindedly tracing over the condensation clinging to her glass. He could see she was trying to shrink away from his presence, though he was never one to back down. "How about I give you a ride home?"

"Pardon?"

"My shift's just about to end now. I'd hate to leave you here knowing you're trapped 'cause of the rain." She looked at him again with that same stunned appearance as she had when he first made his presence known to her. Sparkling eyes with this dazed nature to them, as if not fully there at the moment—entrenched in her thoughts with nowhere else to direct her attention. The realization brought another grin to his face, and he waited expectantly for her answer to arrive.

"I don't even know your name, though." Her words were laced with hesitancy, as if not even she was fully committed to the concluding limitations she had made of his offer. Because he knew it was a good deal for her, and for him, as a part of him truly didn't feel right leaving her all alone without knowing for a fact that she was safe at home.

"Wonwoo." He replied easily, sliding his hand over to her. Her eyes had watched the movement, lingering on him for a moment more, before she slid her own hand into his in a subtle, noncommittal handshake. "I can't take a stranger in my car though. What's your name?"

Another chuckle out of her, and another boost to Wonwoo's ego for the day.

"(y/n)."

It was out of character for him, as he usually pays no mind to drifters of any sort, though he can't find it in himself to ever regret having stepped out of his comfort zone to bring a smile to her face that day. And what had started as a mere happenstance crossing of paths had soon morphed into frequent visits with (y/n) wandering into the bar and waiting for Wonwoo to serve her a drink before taking her home.

It was near inevitable for the two to grow feelings for one another, and soon blossom a relationship.

Wonwoo felt the corners of his lips twitch up just the slightest bit, remembering how nervous (y/n) had been to ask him out one of the days he dropped her off home. The memory of how she avoided his gaze, fiddled with her hoodie, stumbled over her words, and all he did was sit there and wait patiently, heart bursting at the seams at the sight of her trying to profess her love in some meaningful way on a random Tuesday evening.

It had all been so heavenly at the start. His apartment was small and old, yet she brought this vitality to it that made him feel more alive everyday. The kitchen which once was strictly for sustaining his nutrients now became a haven where the two cooked anything and everything together. The living room which was once merely a middle ground for him to pass the time by with nothing better to do was now where they spent their days watching movies and talking to each other endlessly. The bedroom where he once fell asleep and woke up as is became his sanctuary, where he could fall asleep and wake up to the sight of her right beside him.

Though now as he recounted these memories, that happiness in him soon twinged into a bittersweet sadness, wincing at the reminder of when it had all started going wrong.

Wonwoo had become well aware of (y/n)'s background in living a comfortable life with her family's old money. How could he not with how flippant she seemed to be with her finances. He had been initially concerned with the steady stream of money she tossed away at things he'd deem inconvenient or unnecessary, though it all started to make sense in due time. The way (y/n) went about life with such little worries, at times even seeming naive in Wonwoo's eyes. Though it never bothered him. He was always glad to be there for her. To help her in things she didn't understand, be the helping hand as she experienced many firsts in the world, and he could tell she was just as happy to have him by her side helping. A mutualistic relationship, in which both parties thrived in each other's differences.

At that point was when Wonwoo knew he was in love, and he hadn't hesitated in telling (y/n) that on a random night where they debated what to watch and wound up deciding on perhaps the worst B-movie they've ever seen. Through their fits of laughter, tears in their eyes and stomachs sore, Wonwoo took a moment to admire (y/n) as she was. Freshly showered and smelling of his body wash, adorned in his old raggedy clothes, bright eyed and smiley, absolutely jubilant in his arms. It was an undeniable fact. Something he couldn't refute, nor anyone else for that matter.

“I love you.”

(y/n) had glanced up at him, laughter slowly dying down, though her smile remained in place, only growing by the second as she processed his words.

“Really?” He nodded, lips tugging up at her infectious giggles bubbling up as she nestled closer to him. “I love you, too.”

It had only taken a few weeks after their confession for her to deem it acceptable to introduce him to her family, which is how Wonwoo found himself at the doorstep of an imposingly large manor, adorned with his old button up that had been tossed in the back of his closet, and a bouquet of flowers in hand.

The mother was the first to greet them as they entered the house, appreciatively accepting Wonwoo's floral offering. Next had been her grandmother, who had been absolutely floored by Wonwoo’s looks, praising the Lord above for her granddaughter having found such a good looking man.

Then he met her father. A man who seemed to be the epitome of stoicism. A permanent scowl was etched into the aged lines on his face, and every advance on Wonwoo’s part was greeted by a cold glare and an indifferent grunt. None of the others were in any way taken aback by his mannerisms, however, and so Wonwoo could only assume this was just how his character was.

Some days had passed since the initial meet and greet, and Wonwoo found himself being unexpectedly invited once more to the manor by none other than the man of the house. How he had obtained his number was beyond him, but upon the request of a one on one session between the two, Wonwoo couldn't really care less about the ordeal of his privacy, merely relieved at the possibility that he hadn't completely ruined his reputation with his significant other's father.

Or so he was led to believe.

“I'm sorry?” Wonwoo spoke, voice low and barely above a whisper, yet strained as he attempted to piece together the sudden turn of events without outright creating a potentially unnecessary fiasco in this man’s office.

“I want you to break up with my daughter.”

Okay, so he hadn't heard wrong. He truly was just given the demand to break up with his girlfriend for seemingly no reason. Shocked couldn't even begin to explain the emotions swirling in his head, mouth agape as he attempted to make any semblance of the situation at hand.

The man remained seated across from him, briefly returning to his documents as if Wonwoo’s presence alone was nothing more than a hindrance to his schedule. Merely a minor detour in his work flow that didn't deserve even his full attention.

Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo summoned every ounce of strength within him in order to maintain his calm facade, pressing on with as steady a time as he could muster.

“May I ask for what reason you've sprung this upon me?” The older man paused to look at Wonwoo, giving him an unimpressed once over before returning to his work.

“Mr. Jeon, you seem to be a very good man. Strong, capable, good looking. You're practically everything a father wants for his daughter. Just not my daughter.”

To say he was taken aback would be the understatement of the year, because Wonwoo found himself practically reeling whilst trying to gather his thoughts and make sense of the situation. He felt his eye twitch momentarily, fists clenching by his side as he allowed the man to proceed with whatever motives he had in summoning Wonwoo in the first place.

“My daughter is scatterbrained as is. The last thing she needs is financial struggles to add to her carefree thought process.”

“I'm not rich enough for you?” Wonwoo spat out, venom laced in his tone. His head quirked to the side, a sharp glare directed at the man, challenging him to press on with his offense. Yet the man seemed unaffected by Wonwoo’s clear disdain, merely huffing an amused sigh as he continued.

“Don't take it to heart, kid. You'll understand when you have your own daughter in the future.” Wonwoo watched as he stood from his seat, rounding his desk to be face to face with him. “You know (y/n) as well as I do. She's not built for the harsh world out there.”

“You want to keep her sheltered in your little fantasy world? Coddle her until you're on your deathbed?”

“The world's less harsh for our kind.”

Wonwoo felt his blood boil, though remained as is. Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, staring daggers into the man and his blatant ignorance.

“She's a grown woman,” Wonwoo began, voice low because he feared any alternative would involve shouting. “A grown woman capable of making her own decisions. Falling in love with whoever she wants to. Dealing with her own struggles without her father hovering over her.”

“She'll get just that if she stays with the likes of you.”

At this, Wonwoo found his composure faltering, brows furrowed in concentration, attempting to piece together what the man could possibly be insinuating. Judging from the prior turns of their conversation thus far, Wonwoo could only imagine the lengths this man would go to rid his life of Wonwoo’s presence.

A sly smile crossed the face of the man. Perhaps the first expression outside that of his permanent scowl. Wonwoo felt immediate discomfort from the sight, at the apathy emanating from beyond the man’s eyes. This cold, resolute stare that seemed near sociopathic almost.

“What are you insinuating?”

“If my daughter is to remain with the likes of you, a certified liability upon her, then I'd have no choice but to cut her off entirely.” Wonwoo felt his heart drop at the monotonous words coming out of this man's mouth, uncaring as if it were nothing more than a business transaction. “Cut off her finances, her access to my estate. Even her relations with myself and my family.” Wonwoo attempted to meet the hard and calculative stare trained on him, but his resolve was beginning to crumble with every new thing spoken. “You wouldn't want to be the cause of (y/n) being disowned, now would you?”

No, he wouldn't. It was a shitty ultimatum. Break up with my daughter or she'll be completely removed from her family. It was downright psychotic behavior. Something which shook Wonwoo to his core. He had only ever seen this type of character in fiction. Someone this unmoving, completely devoid of empathy. His thoughts and concerns only revolved around himself, only ever using the facade of concern for his daughter. Though in actuality, it had become perfectly clear to Wonwoo that the man only cared about his own personal image which would be impacted by his daughter's unworthy match.

He wanted to leave immediately. He wanted to actively punch the man before leaving this accursed manor. He wanted to whisk (y/n) away from the pitiful excuse of a father trying adamantly to control her every waking moment. He wanted to run away with her, live their own life without the crushing weight of societal expectations dampening the tranquility of their relationship. He wanted to return home where (y/n) would be waiting for him, safe from the outside world in the sanctity of their four walls. He wanted to make her laugh until her head was tipped back and her sides ached. He wanted to comfort her when times got too tough for her to manage on her own. He wanted to be the one to embrace all of the love she had to offer. He wanted to be her first and her last in everything.

Though he couldn't bear the guilt of having forced this ultimatum upon her. He didn't want to tarnish the image of her family because of the tyrant claiming to be her father. He didn't want to have her choose between her family or her significant other. The mere image of (y/n)’s agony wreaked havoc upon his poor battered heart. Images of when he first met (y/n), walking into the bar like a confused, wet puppy flitted through his memories, and he couldn't handle bearing witness to it once more.

That day, he left the manor without another word and without another glance behind him. He couldn't recall much of what happened following his departure, though sooner rather than later, he found himself walking into his apartment once more. His mind felt frenzied with thoughts and concerns, calculating his options and reevaluating his morals. Yet in a conflicting sense, he felt absolutely empty. Numb to the outside world, barely conscious enough to even discern how much time had passed since he had returned home.

By the time he had come to, he hadn't come to a decision. Or perhaps he just hadn't come to a decision he liked. There was a logical answer, one that took into consideration everyone's circumstances, one that accounted the world and the way it functions outside his own life. And then there was his selfish answer. The one that accounted for all of these factors, yet ignored them nevertheless in lieu of his own desires. The one that resulted in his own happiness, though at the cost of everybody else's.

It felt like an internal strife was dismantling the very foundation of his life, eating away at him until he was nothing left. A vessel devoid of its soul, wading listlessly in the universe, awaiting for, dreading the moment he'll have to make his choice. Or more correctly, make the only feasible choice in the matter. Because no matter how desperate he wants (y/n) in his life, and no matter how heinous of a being her father is, the guilt of the matter which derived from the conditions forced upon him overrode that of anything else. He couldn't possibly revoke (y/n)’s entire life, everything she's ever been accustomed to, merely for his own selfishness. He knew this was exactly what her father hoped for. Exploiting the way Wonwoo cared for (y/n) with every fiber of his being. And as much as Wonwoo wanted to deny it, his plan worked.

The sound of his door unlocking was what managed to jostle Wonwoo from his stupor, albeit only a microscopic amount, though enough for him to blink away his delirium and look up just as (y/n) came walking into the room, bright smile on display the moment her eyes landed upon the man seated on the couch.

“Wonwoo!” The jubilance in her voice managed to soothe the turmoil wrought in his heart, a wry smile curling at the corners of his lips. From where he sat, he watched as she mosied about the apartment as naturally as one breathes. Toeing off her shoes, tossing her things onto the counter, raiding the fridge for whatever beverage she can find to cool off. All the while, she rambled endlessly of her day, from the very beginning when she woke up to the traffic on her way to work, the new place her and her friends visited for lunch, anything to fill the void that usually enshrouds Wonwoo's apartment. And his smile grew more and more fond, impossible to even deny for a moment how happy he was in her presence. It was how they always worked. What he was, she was the opposite. In the silence Wonwoo had grown accustomed to, resided for most of his life, she offered that peaceful white noise to settle his nerves and quell his rampant thoughts. “You're awfully quiet today. Is everything alright?”

(y/n) had made her way to the living room, collapsing on the couch beside him, naturally nestling against his side. All the while, her soft eyes remained on him, never pushing him to talk, though assuring him he was always free to. The clarity of her emotions and the way she expressed them to him was always something he admired, and meeting those loving eyes for perhaps the last time finally broke his resolve.

“It's nothing, really.” He quickly turned away, not wanting her to see the way his eyes glossed over with unshed tears.

“Well, obviously it's something if it's got you like this.” Her voice was low, just above a whisper, preserving the still of the atmosphere set around them. The hum of the radiator filled the room, providing that subtle medium for Wonwoo to concentrate on and avoid the spiraling thoughts swirling in his head. Beside him, he could feel (y/n)’s gentle touch on his hand, thumb lightly brushing against his knuckles. He loved the way she treated him so tenderly, taking her time and speaking lightly, touches sweet and demure no matter how imposing he may seem to others. The thought of tarnishing this tranquility, destroying the relationship they both worked so hard to build up, killed Wonwoo inside.

His heart ached as he sat there, seconds ticking by, battling himself every step of the way. (y/n)’s persistent patience didn't help his cause in any way. Her presence which usually served as an anchor weighing him down to earth now felt like a damning weight upon his shoulders. The arrangement forced upon him by her father revolved around his thoughts, an ever recurring reminder that he can't preserve this. He can't keep this happiness anymore. He can't have (y/n) any longer.

“I…” His voice trembled, cracking through the gravely undertone from his silence that day. He hesitantly turned his head to face her, though couldn't find it in himself to look up at her.

He was a coward, he knew this. Everything in this situation only further proved this revelation of his. He was a coward, and even if he did choose the selfish route in this predicament, in what world did he even deserve (y/n) in the first place?

He gulped, breath shaky as he finally dared a glance her way. As always, the (y/n) before him was as lovely as ever. Eyes remaining on him, an edge of concern in her furrowed brows. Her hand in his continued to soothingly stroke his skin, comforting him for as long as he needed. Averting his eyes once more, he felt his body tremble with wrought emotion, knowing what was to come, yet attempting to delay it.

He truly didn't deserve (y/n).

“I think we should break up,” he finally spoke, voice weak, forced out in a broken whisper.

Silence settled over them, the radiator persisting with its low hum, yet this time, it couldn't mask the heavy tension slowly accumulating in the room. Wonwoo’s body seemed to vibrate with the effort exerted in detaining himself, preventing him from retracting his words, reaching out to (y/n) and apologizing for ever even amusing such an outlandish idea. But he remained as is, nervously scratching at the rough material of his jean clad legs, torturously waiting for a response from (y/n).

The silence he met was perhaps the most harrowing response he could've received, not having the slightest clue of what could be going through her head, especially since his eyes refused to stray her way. Though he could feel her gaze upon him, and it killed him inside. Completely and utterly at a loss for himself with only the fleeting strength he'd managed to scrape up to preserve the facade of monotony across his countenance.

“Break up?” She asked, the only words she could muster with his sudden proposition. Her voice was once more soft, though instead of the comforting lull it usually carried, it seemed weak almost. Barely able to slip past her lips, barely loud enough for Wonwoo himself to hear. His heart clenched upon itself at the sound of those words coming from her, as if a taboo phrase never meant to be uttered by either of them. And the realization that the two have both broken that unspoken promise made the situation all the more real. “Why?”

Why?

It was a simple question. Inevitable, even. But somehow it threw Wonwoo for a loop. He couldn't just outright expose her family for what they were, more specifically that of her father. It wasn't his place. And he wouldn't dare place that burden upon her. It was why he was deciding to break up with her now. He just couldn't say that to her directly…

“I…” He paused to clear his throat, averting his gaze to his lap now, perhaps his one safe haven in a room which reminded him of (y/n) far too much.

Every memory they ever made together. Where they first said I love you, where they shared countless meals together, where she'd fall asleep unknowingly in his arms and heal his soul with her presence alone. Every hug and every kiss, every loving word and tender touch. Their milestones, their fights, their heart to hearts. Every aspect of their relationship is imprinted upon the aspects of his apartment, like a time capsule commemorating the moments they shared together.

“I don't think… we're a good match…”

“Why?” This why came much faster than the previous one, and Wonwoo found himself momentarily floundering upon the realization that this would result in a back and forth with which he'd have to give her a proper reason for giving up on their relationship.

“I don't want to hold you back.”

“Hold me back?” She questioned. “Where would you have gotten that assumption from? In what ways are you holding me back?”

At the sound of her frustrated tone, Wonwoo gave in and finally met her gaze. Though her voice wavered with restrained disappointment, her eyes betrayed her motive, watering as she finally met Wonwoo's own conflicted stare.

“I mean… You're you… and I'm me. You have your life and I have mine. And I don't…” He paused once more, swallowing down the lump in his throat to continue. “You have your friends, your family, and—”

“My family?” She asked, drowning in confusion at his utterance. “What about my family? Did something happen?”

Wonwoo sat there for a moment, panic broiling within him. An opportunity presenting itself. His final chance to back out.

Either he confesses to everything. Tells her how her father pulled him aside on purpose so he would be the one to decide, in order to save face with his own daughter. Tells her how she would be forced to start anew in life if she were to stay with him. Cut off from everything she'd ever known in life. Money, family, businesses, properties. All of it no longer at her disposal. Merely as a consequence for choosing him at the end of the day.

Or he continues with his initial goal in mind. Revoking her right to decide merely because it was too tasking of a decision to make for him, let alone for her. Force her to live in blissful ignorance alongside her family, abandon Wonwoo and the life they built together, allow her to continue with the way of life she'd grown so accustomed to.

Could she handle the pressures of starting adulthood from scratch? With her only resources being Wonwoo and whatever he was capable of giving to her? Could she handle the debilitating trauma of being disowned and banished by the people who raised her? Merely to stay with him? Was he even worth such a grand decision?

Perhaps deep down, Wonwoo actually feared what her answer would be. Because there was always a high probability she'd choose her family and her comfortable life over him and their relationship. Perhaps that's why he felt the need to make the decision on his own. Perhaps that's why he chose to punish himself rather than to let her do it for him. Perhaps that's why he suddenly found himself spewing whatever nonsense his jumbled mind could conjure to complete this objective.

“This has nothing to do with your family.” (y/n) quieted down at the sudden resolve in Wonwoo’s tone, and Wonwoo himself was shocked to find how steady his voice had become in a mere few seconds passed. “It has everything to do with the fact that we are just not compatible.”

“Not compatible…” (y/n) repeated in awe, words mumbled as she attempted to process what he said to her.

“You come from an affluent background, so it was already a given we'd find differences in the way we perceived the world and engage in it. Your terms of spending and saving differ vastly to my own. Though you may seem indifferent to the way I live my life, I am not in regards to your own.” His words sounded almost rehearsed with the way he spoke in such a steady and monotonous manner. One brief glance towards (y/n) only served to validate his own observations of himself, and he quickly averted his gaze once more lest the unbridled emotion enshrouding her eyes tempt him into retreat. “With the obvious aside, I find myself struggling to find meaning in this relationship that we've somehow stumbled our way into.” He paused to gather his bearings, taking as discrete an inhale as he could to try and quell the nerves firing within him. “I find you clingy in that you've occupied my apartment for weeks at a time and have essentially weaseled your way into my living space. I think you're immature in the way you spend your money, but also shameless as you also attempt to monitor my own finances. You're sheltered and you don't understand the real world, including my own and all those around us. You—”

A swift slap across his face halted Wonwoo from proceeding. It hadn't hurt him in any physical way, merely resulting in the combination of silencing him, turning his head in another direction, and perhaps a slight sting at most. Though what truly struck at Wonwoo's heartstrings was the sharp gasp that followed the initial impact, and in his peripheral vision he could see (y/n) grasping the hand that had slapped him, as if offended by her own action.

He took the suddenness of the situation to gather himself once more, regaining his composure to the best of his abilities before slowly turning to meet (y/n).

His breath had become shaky upon the sight of her. Tears streaming down her face, hands clamped over her mouth in a feeble attempt to silence the sobs bubbling out of her. Her body trembled with the whirlwind of emotions broiling within her, and Wonwoo could see it all as clear as ever. Shock that she'd ever strike Wonwoo in such a way, never in her wildest dreams had she envisioned inflicting any harm to him. Confusion, seemingly in reference to both the slap that catapulted them into this moment of silence though also to the events which had led up to it. Desperation, as if wanting it all to end, not wanting to experience another moment of this ordeal, hoping it would all end soon, or even better if it would have never even happened in the first place. Though the most overwhelming emotion riddled all through her tear ridden gaze was that of despair. Because no matter how much she reflected upon herself and Wonwoo, no matter how much she prayed that this was all a sick figment of her imagination, there was no denying that what had transpired was in fact very real, and unchanging. Wonwoo said what he said, and as the silence grew longer and longer, it was clear there was no chance of him denying his words.

He inhaled shakily, at this point fully rendering the permanence of this situation, and thus allowing himself to momentarily falter in his stoicism.

“Must I continue?”

The next few seconds felt like a blur. One moment he was staring at (y/n), eyes darting to every feature he could, memorizing the curves and lines of her face, imprinting the image into his mind. Allowing himself to admire her one last time in person, even if the image before him would forever haunt his dreams. Every time he'll think back to her, he'll be met with the cruel reality that he allowed her to leave his side for the final time as a broken, defeated woman. Though perhaps it was what he deserved. To be forever reminded of his transgressions, and to forever reflect on what he's done to the one he loves.

Though this hadn't lasted long, for in the next moment, she was quickly rising from the couch and away from him. He sat still, unmoving as he listened to the raucous behind him. Her grabbing her things from the counter, sliding her shoes back on, and then the opening and closing of the door.

What he hadn't heard was the lock behind her, a telltale sign that the one thing she made sure to leave behind was the extra set of keys he had given to her. And at that point, alone in his apartment with the lone hum of the radiator to accompany him, he allowed himself to finally let go, releasing the broken sobs that he'd tried so desperately to restrain whilst in her presence. His cries wracked through his body, loud and pained with reckless abandon. His body gave up, caving in on himself and collapsing onto the floor, barely even strong enough to catch himself before he had curled into the cold, unforgiving hardwood floor.

Once more, time felt more a construct than ever before, for he hadn't any idea the duration of time he spent there, grieving for what he had lost. The pit in his stomach grew cavernous, churning with the absolute nothingness now occupying his insides. Despair consumed his being, imbibed in every fiber of his person, ensuring there wasn't a single remnant of the joy (y/n) had once instilled into him. Regret coincided with his downfall, memories of what once was now being met with memories of what had just occurred. Images of (y/n) smiling at him collided violently with images of her final mortified expression, alongside the onslaught of tears staining her face that he had been the cause of. Though the one all encompassing emotion that overrode everything else was that of pain. Pain riddled his entire body, clawing away at him, scarring him forever. This overwhelming emotion that burrowed into his soul and demanded his attention. He felt it in his gut, his chest, his head, though it soon bled to every square inch of his body, reminding him that it wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

Days had gone by since the break up, and Wonwoo found himself once more sitting at his couch, staring at his ceiling, listening to the radiator hum away. It was sickening to him how time continued to march by, not sparing him even a moment to recover from the plight he'd gotten himself into. Time continued, and so did life. The mundane routine he had made for himself returned like clockwork. Bartending throughout the week before returning home. Though even if he had lived through life like this for longer than he could recall, the now apparent emptiness of it all lingered tauntingly before him.

The lack of shoes to greet him when he'd return home to toe off his own. The silent kitchen as he cooked for one. The TV had remained off ever since, and instead he spent most of his spare time in front of his monitor playing games in hopes of it distracting him from the loneliness now consuming his life.

This was the first day he actually decided to sit on the couch since. The first day he sat in front of the TV, albeit with the screen still completely black. The first day he allowed himself to try and confront what had happened.

His head lolled to the side where (y/n) last sat, and in his self deluded mind, he could practically see the manifested image of her beside him. The clear image of what she looked like that day still fresh in his mind. Though the longer he recalled, the more he could remember of (y/n).

He could still feel the touch of her lips upon his own, her breath hitting the shell of his ear as she whispered sweet nothings to him, the warmth she'd radiate as she cradled him against her. The memories of her felt not only alive with the surroundings of his apartment where they lived together, but also forever imprinted on his person alone.

Weakly, he pulled himself forward, leant against his knees as he attempted to ground himself back to reality. As sweet and oftentimes bitter the memories were to him, they served no purpose other than tormenting him. He needed to move on first before he could think back fondly at what they once had. Though it was always easier said than done.

His hand swiped down his face, rubbing away the exhaustion from his eyes as he reached for the mail he had haphazardly tossed onto his coffee table.

Flipping through the stack, he was met with his usual itinerary of garbage and junk mail. Though one crisp envelope captured his attention. Unmarked, though from the quality alone, Wonwoo could tell it held some significance to it.

Mindlessly, he tore open the letter and extracted the singular sheet of paper within. An unmarked check, signed by none other than (y/n)’s father with only one remark written on it.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

♗ (a/n): hello! this was my first request and also my first like pure angst fic! I do feel really bad for having suddenly dropped off the face of the earth for a good two months, so I hope this is okay. I had fun writing! I mostly sat there reflecting on some psychology 101 type of ethics lol.

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[simporado]

You’re somethin’ else

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Summary: The same words said to you in different points of your life, all still manage to make you blush everytime.

Content Warning/Tags: Fluff, Making Out, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Drunken Confessions kinda, Mutual Pining, Reader-Insert

MDNI please 🔞

Today was work study for you and some of your classmates. You were out in patrol with with some of the heroes from the company you were interning in. You had been patrolling for about 30 minutes now. As you and your fellow hero turn a corner, you see Deku, Shoto, and Bakugo walking towards your direction.

Deku spots you first, “Oh! Y/n-san! What a coincidence.” Bakugo and Shoto then turns to look at you. “Hi guys! you were out on patrol too, huh? How’s that going for you all?” You asked. Bakugo puts his hands in his pockets and slouches, “Hah. No ass-beating’s happened yet and its a fuckin waste of my time.” Deku calls out with a small “K-Kacchan..” in the background when suddenly, a scream was heard. You all turn to the direction of the sound.

A villain attack. You all spring into action. You, Deku and Shoto evacuate nearby civilians away while Bakugo immediately goes for the villain. the villain had a quirk where they could aim in various directions and multitask. When the villain had Bakugo at point range and a civilian was nearby who would for sure get hit, you immediately moved to intervene. You had used your quirk to simultaneously move the civilian safely, Bakugo out of the villain’s shot, THEN delivered a blow to the villain enough to get him distracted.

The police had finally arrived and restrained the villain with anti-quirk cuffs. Shoto was briefing the police while Deku aided in bringing civilians to get first aid. You and Bakugo had been talking to an officer as well. After the officer left, you were about to turn on your heel “Well, I’ll be on my way. Great job in handling the villain as usual, Bakug—“

“I didn’t really do shit…” Bakugo interrupts. “You… handled that well more than any of us.” You blink at that then smile, your hand reaching to scratch at the back of your head in bashfulness, “Well, we all did what we could and succeeded, didn’t we? That’s still a win.” and you smile. Bakugo stares at you with an unreadable expression then looks away. Then, you feel your cheeks heat up as you heard what he whispered to himself, “Heh. You’re somethin’ else.”

-----

Your classmates from UA decided to get together after working hard being Pro Heroes. It was a hangout in Momo’s place since she had the largest space to accommodate all your classmates. It was mostly the girls and the “bakusquad” who had planned it. “C’mon, it’s a great opportunity for everyone have fun and catch up! Plus everyone’s schedules aligns by then, so there’s no other perfect time.” Mina had said. And you did agree, it was a much needed relaxation after working hard being a pro hero.

You hadn’t planned on drinking too much, but it must have slipped your mind because everyone was having a really great time. Karaoke was brought out, and Kirishima’s folk song performance had most of you dying of laughter. Some of the guys looked like uncles it also made you laugh so hard, you couldve busted a lung. Iida, Sero, Shoto, and Shoji standing at a corner, a hand holding their beers and the other either at their waist or in their pockets, chatting amongst themselves. Others went and played Just Dance, You, Mina, and Ochako being the ones playing more then others.

Whenever you danced, you felt eyes focusing on you but refused to acknowledge that and played it off as being delusional. You tried really hard not to scan the room and see who was watching, you really did. But before you could stop yourself, you found yourself locking eyes with a pair of red ones, who was sitting at the couch nearby. The shock must’ve been great because you didn’t notice you both were just staring for so long.

“Oh, we’re almost out of cold drinks here!” Kaminari announces from the table, and it snaps you out of your daze. “I’ll get them. There’s more in your fridge, right Momo?” you asked, volunteering mainly to excuse yourself. Momo turns to you from the table, “Yes, they’re in the fridge. They’re still unopened in crates so it’s quite heav—“

“I’ll come with.” Bakugo interrupts Momo. “I need a cold one.” he explains, raising the empty beer in his hand as if to emphasize. He stands from his seat and stops right next to you. You stare at him wide eyed and in shock, and he just raises a brow at you. After shaking off the shock, you quickly realized he was waiting for you to go first.

When you get to the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the beer crates. Bakugo reaches to get the crates from you, but you didn’t let him. He tuts and forces the crates out of your hands, only to quickly put in on the nearby island behind you and trap you between his arms. against the island “Why’re you carrying a lot.”

You blink at him confused, “What?”

“I mean, just let me fuckin’ do it...”, he pauses, “for you…” You didn’t know how to respond. You figured he was drunk with the way he’s acting. But then again, so were you with the lack of response your brain had been giving.

Before you could say something, he drops his forehead to your shoulder and you stiffen. “You’re too fuckin’ cute.” He groans into your collarbone before softly kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, going up your neck until he stops at your cheek. You both stare at each other, his eyes silently asking if he can continue. You raise your hand to grab at his collar and pull him to your lips. You felt a flutter in your stomach when he leans more into your kiss, releases a sigh of relief through his nose, as if he had been meaning to do this. You gasp in surprise when he starts to swipe his tongue on your lips, and takes that opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth. His hand on your waist pull you tightly against his body and his right leg pushes up in between your thighs. He pulls away, both your spit still connected. “Fuck, you’re something else.” He says panting, pupils blown wide.

Your half-lidded eyes widen at his words but before you could respond, Kirishima enters the room loudly. “Momo said to bring all of them out, so I came to help—“ You and Bakugo already had distanced yourselves from each other when Kirishima’s eyes lands at you both. Bakugo wordlessly brings out the two crates from the island and walks out the kitchen past Kirishima. “You okay, y/n? you look red in the face.” You cup ur face then fan yourself, “Do I? I mean, haha, Momo wasn’t kidding when she said they were heavy”, you lie as you thumb at the fridge. Kirishima just smiles at you then you both carry the remaining ones out the kitchen.

It was already late in the am, and most of your classmates were passed out. You couldn’t stop thinking about Bakugo since the incident in the kitchen, especially the last thing he said to you. You scanned for him in the room, only to find him going up the stairs. You don’t

know what compelled you to follow, but you were already on the stairs. When you got up, you didn’t see where he went. Just as you were about to walk to a direction, a hand grabs you and pulls you into a room. It’s Bakugo. And he’s got you against the door.

The room was dark and the only light was coming from the window. He leans into you, forehead resting against yours, his hands on your hips. He opens his mouth to speak, “I—“ but before he could finish, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him fervently.

—————

Nothing but heavy panting fills the darkened room. Pants alternating between the two of you, eventually your breathing slows in sync. You're straddling his hips on top of him, brows furrowed and both eyes closed as you bask in the afterglow. Both of your hands at the sides of his waist on the matress, the proximity allowing you to feel his slowing pants on your face. You slowly open your eyes only to see him already staring at you. Somehow you couldnt begin to describe the look in his eyes. Disbelief? Adoration? Love-

As soon as the last thought hit you, his fingers comb through your hair from the hairline at your forehead down to the back of your neck. His hand ends up cupping your jaw, thumb carressing the skin of your cheek. He lets out a deep sigh, "You're somethin' else" he whispers, mouth adorned with a soft smile.

Your eyes widen before chuckling and he frowns. “What’re you laughing ‘bout?” he asks. “Nothing, just remembered you first told me that during work study before back in UA.” you cross your arms on his chest and lay your head down on your arms, tilting up to look at him. “Left an impression on me because it was the first time you had complimented me.” Katsuki’s eyes go wide and blushes. “I… pushed myself to say that ‘cuz you looked hot, beatin’ the shit outta that useless extra and all. Realized I’ve never really seen you in action before that.” and now your red in the face at his confession.

He smirks in amusement at your flushed face, as if he knew what you were thinking, before wrapping his arms around your waist and slowly bringing you towards his lips to kiss you once again.

“I’ve always liked you since then, Y/n. You really are somethin’ else.” He says with such serious eyes yet full of emotion. You lean up to kiss him at that, then lay your head down on his bare chest. sleep starts to overtake you as you listen to his heartbeat. "I like you too, Katsuki. I think you're really something else too."

~~~~

originally posted from ao3, link below!

this is my first fic ever like. no cap. sponsored by my delusional simping brain.

i hope you enjoyed reading nonetheless! thank you for reading mmmwak

#bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #mha x reader #reader insert #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff

[stvharrngton]

the cabin

a/n: request for my bestie @sweetiestevie​ <3 i hope you like it i’m sorry it’s not super long :( 

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, cursing, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, sub!steve, dad!steve and daddy kink all rolled into one (first time writing that so if it’s awful i apologise lmao)

The lit fireplace crackled in the dim living space as the wind whipped outside the cabin. The room filled with festive scents of cinnamon and spiced apple as the candles you lit flickered in the background.

Your daughter had been long put to bed, tuckered out and grizzly after a long day of playing outside in the snow. Your extended weekend vacation at the log cabin proving its worth in tiring her out, allowing for a smooth running bedtime and more importantly, alone time for you and Steve.

It didn’t consist of much, simply enjoying each other’s company. You curled up on the couch, Steve’s head in your lap and your fingers carded through his wild hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, the other nursing a large glass of wine he’s so kindly poured for you.

A glance down at your husband; his eyes closed, features awash with calm, his lips slightly parted, the light scratch of stubble that decorated his chin. He looked so peaceful, so pretty.

Leaving one hand in his hair, your fingers traced over the soft skin of his cheek, stopping to trace over every mole and freckle, tickling the slight scruff on his jaw. A sigh leaving his lips as your thumb rubbed along his bottom lip, pursing together to form a pout to kiss the pad of your thumb.

Your fingers travelled lower, brushing over his neck and the smattering of chest hair that peaked out from below his shirt. They continued down his pecs, stopping to lightly pinch at his nipples before they reached the hem of his t-shirt, delving beneath the material. Your nails lightly scratched at his stomach, the happy trail that sat there.

Steve leaned up on his elbows now, large palm reaching for the back of your neck to bring him closer to you. Your noses brushed along each other’s, your lips finally pressing to his. This kiss was slow, lips and tongues moving together languidly. Your fingers never left the skin beneath his shirt, your soft touches setting Steve’s skin alight.

You deepend the kiss, fingers tugging at the ends of his hair now, pulling little content sighs and moans from the man below you. It was bliss when you got to steal moments like these alone, whimpers and groans swallowed between kisses, hands wandering and dancing over aged skin. It made you both feel like teenagers again, like kissing in the back of a movie theatre, like getting a little too handsy at a party.

Steve was sat up with you now, only breaking the kiss to lose his shirt. His hands were in your hair, letting one fall to your waist to bring you closer. Your delicate fingers rested on his thigh, tracing over the soft material of his pyjama pants. They inched higher, fingertips ghosting over his semi hard cock, a throaty groan escaping from Steve’s mouth.

You broke the kiss now, lips a little wet and swollen, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed. You braced yourself on Steve’s shoulders before you swallowed the dry lump in your throat. Your eyes cast aside,

“Why don’t you take a seat over there?” nodding to the side to the large plush armchair that was next to the fireplace, “Let me take care of you, Stevie?”

Steve swallowed as you continued to palm him over his pants, “Yeah,” he breathed, “fuck yeah.” nodding eagerly.

You watched as he padded over to the chair, legs spread wide and arms on either side of the arms. Your breath hitched in your throat a little at the sight, you sauntered after him kneeling in between his thighs.

“Let’s take these off, baby,” you cooed, fingers hooking beneath the waistband as Steve lifted his hips to allow you pull them down his legs. The warm air of the cabin hitting is cock made him hiss through his teeth, the sight of you knelt before him making his thighs clench.

You kissed all along his legs, over his thighs, licking a stripe up his cock, your other hand cupping his balls, “You gonna let me make you feel good, baby?” you asked, lips pressing a soft kiss to his tip, “Show you what a good man you’ve been, what a good Daddy you’ve been, hm?”

Steve moaned all pretty, head slumped back against the chair, eyelids heavy and gaze lustful, “Yeah, yes,” his thumb stroked across your cheek, “fuck- please, please.”

You wrapped a hand around his throbbing cock, vein protruding and tip leaking. You pumped him lazily at first, pace slow and teasing as you licked and mouthed at his heavy balls. Steve let out a loud groan, teeth digging into his bottom lip to stifle his noises.

You chuckled at his expression, brow furrowed and eyes clenched shut, fingers curling into the arms of the chair, holding on for dear life. You quickened the pace a little, mouth leaving his balls to spit on his dick.

The scene before him so obscene, so dirty, Steve couldn’t help but whimper as your hand glided up and down his cock. You squeezed his tip between your fingers, thumb swiping over the precum from his slit.

“Oh,” Steve squirmed, hips canting upwards into your hand, “fuck, oh baby, please.”

“Doing so well, Stevie, so good, baby.” you praised, voice low and sultry, knowing it would send a twinge right to his cock. Steve was fucking himself into your fist now, desperately chasing his own high but you weren’t ready for him to cum just yet.

So you slowed your hand, watching as his chest heaved, his head lulled back and eyes staring at the ceiling. You hummed as your lips left wet kisses along his thighs and up to his stomach, fingers reaching up to tweak his nipples.

The sweetest whimper escaped Steve’s lips, all desperate and needy. His fingers scooping your hair into a makeshift ponytail as your lips encircled his tip now, tongue swirling.

You pushed slowly until you felt the tip brush the back of your throat, tears welling at the corner of your eyes as Steve filled your mouth. You breathed through your nose as you pulled off him, a string of saliva still connecting you to his wet cock.

You went back for more, head bobbing up and down his length, hands planting Steve’s hips into the plush of the chair, “You- you look so pretty like this, fuck, oh my God.”

Whining around his cock, you couldn’t help but slide your fingers between your thighs, fingers circling your clit lazily, slick spreading over your pussy. Steve’s desperate moans and fucked out expression going straight to your core.

You sucked his cock with everything you had, wet and sloppy, Steve cursing every time his tip brushed the back of your throat. Hand twisting at the base, squeezing and pumping as your spit dribbled down to his balls.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he groaned, “feels s’fucking good.”

You felt him tense all over, fingers tugging at your hair as you pulled off of him. You wiped the spit from your mouth with the back of your hand, eyelashes fluttering up at Steve.

“Shit,” be breathed, “‘m so close, baby.”

“Yeah?” you asked, hands stroking up and down his muscular thighs.

It was on the tip of your tongue. A word you never dared mention in the bedroom before, not in this context, always too anxious that it would kill the mood. It was silly really, the nerves that bubbled in your stomach every time you thought about saying it but you knew Steve wouldn’t view you any differently.

But you were so riled up, heart thumping beneath your chest. Steve’s hair a little wild from how his fingers tugged at it, lips pink and chest panting. Cock throbbing against his stomach, your pussy dripping.

“Stevie,” you mummered.

“Hmm?” he hummed, thumb coming to brush the apple of your cheek, stopping at your lips, a rasp from his throat when you took it into your mouth, sucking.

“Tell me,” you whispered, “what does Daddy want?”

Steve’s jaw went slack, mouth hanging agape, every inch of his body tensing as those words left your mouth. He huffed through his nostrils, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Oh,” you breathed a sigh, a little relief, “you like that? Like it when I call you Daddy?”

He groaned, throat thick and dry. His cock growing impossibly stiffer, begging to be touched and sucked, begging to be fucked dry.

“Yeah,” he breathed, “yeah, I like it, fuck.” Your thighs clenched at his admission.

Steve nodded, urging you to stand up, “C’mere,” he whispered. Hands reaching for the satin of your nightie, eyes bulging when he saw you were bare underneath. Steve pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.

Your fingers found his hair, brushing the stray strands from his forehead, your cunt aching at the feeling of his cock snug between your folds.

“What do you want, Daddy? Want me to make you feel good?” you rocked back and forth now, a slow dirty grind of your hips.

“God,” Steve whined, “ yes, fuck. Please fuck me, baby please,” his hands splayed across your ass now, pushing and pulling your hips faster, “Need you t’get on my cock.”

“Yes, Daddy.” you moaned at the neediness in his voice, reaching behind you to grab his length, sliding him through your slick before sinking down him.

You both moaned at the stretch, Steve’s teeth nipping at your shoulder to silence himself. Mustering every bit of stamina in his body he could find to keep himself from climaxing right there and then.

“‘M not gonna last long, shit,” he cursed under his breath, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“S’ok, Stevie,” you whispered, lips pressed over the shell of his ear, “gonna fuck you real good.”

You began to move your hips now, hands braced on his broad shoulders as you rocked back and forth on his cock. The tip sat so deep it brushed that sweet spot with every roll, and Steve was a wreck beneath you.

Fingers digging into the plush skin of your hips, gripping so tightly. Head back against the top of the chair, leaving his neck exposed for you to press your wet lips to it.

“Cock feels so good, Daddy,” you mewled, hips working faster and harder now, your ass bouncing, the sound of your skin slapping against each other’s filling the room.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, eyes glassy, a low moan leaving his throat, “just like that, fuck.”

The stretch of his cock buried inside you and the filthy words you both spoke to each other drove you insane, fingers slipping down your body, one hand playing with your tits as the other found your clit. You keened above Steve, the coil in your stomach tightening as you felt his gaze on you.

“C’mon,” Steve groaned, “cum for Daddy,” eyes focused on where your fingers rubbed, “such a pretty girl.”

“Oh,” you whined, fingers circling faster, hips bouncing harder, “yeah, fuck, Daddy.” Muscles clenching and fingers stuttering as you reached your climax, chest heaving and legs shaking. Breathy pants escaped your lips as you moaned a mix of incoherent curses and chants of Steve’s name.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “good girl baby, fuck-”

Steve never let your hips stop, urging you to grind your hips into his, his own orgasm close behind yours. He was desperate now, wanting nothing more than to cum, than to fill you up. He was so fucked out, his head a little fuzzy, muscles tense and whines needy.

You mustered enough energy in you to keep going, to keep Steve from fucking himself into you. You held his chin between your thumb and finger, pressing his lips to yours. It was messy, a clash of tongues and teeth, desperate and needy.

Your hips picked up the pace again, slamming back and forth onto Steve’s cock and the man all but near died at the sight of you. Body sweaty from your orgasm, tits bouncing in his face with every thrust of your hips. Tired and fucked out moans tumbling from your lips.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum, baby.” Steve groaned, toes curling into the plush expensive rug on the floor, thighs clenching.

“Want you to cum for me, Daddy, please,” you cried, “fill me up.”

Steve whined, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your words, strings of curses and your name escaped his lips as he squeezed your hips tight. Muscles tensed as he reached his high, stuffing you full of his cum, chest heaving.

You laid against his chest, fingers stroking up and down his bicep soothingly, letting him come down from his orgasm. You watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath his lungs gave, eyelids fluttering shut at the sight.

Steve breathed a fuck into the warm air, fire place still crackling in the background. His arms circled your waist, his cock still buried in your cunt. A shallow chuckle worked its way past his lips,

“So, how long have you kept that one in the trunk, huh?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #sub!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #this isn't edited either i'm sorry #pls i tried yali i hope you like it #k.fic