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#my face got sunburnt this day
wekillitwithfire · 6 days
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its a unique kind of pain when you get really into something with a small fanbase and not much recent fanart, and you find a really cool piece from a really good artist and you just love how they interpret and draw the characters and you're obsessed with it and you can't wait to see what else they have in store, but then you go to their blog and you realize that the drawing was just a one-off 'i watched this show (etc.) recently and thought it was kinda cool" and they're very unlikely to make anything else for it again
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nomaishuttle · 8 months
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skin feels weirdd
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hyperfixat · 11 months
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How they show affection, demon brothers!
roughly ~700 words :3 side characters ver
Mammon bites.
Seeing how quickly Mammon took to you, he started showing affection around day three of knowing you, after forming your pact. At first you thought he was sniffing your hair, and maybe you needed new conditioner, but then you felt the graze of teeth on the lobe of your ear and a gentle bite.
You don’t react, save for a mild blush, and Mammon’s makes an oddly bird-like chiro, before pulling away from you.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“You bit me,” you acusse. It’s not like you’re mad, but knowing why might be nice.
“Stupid human, you’re imagining things,” and if you didn’t believe him from the tone of his voice the aggressive sunburnt red that eclipses his whole face shows he doesn’t mean it.
Satan headbutts.
It took a while for Satan to be affectionate with you, maybe shortly after the Lucifer slash London incident was when he first rammed his (thankfully horn-less) head into your arm. You thought he just bumped into you, maybe he stumbled and to spare him embarrassment, you didn’t mention it.
But then it happened again, this time he made eye contact with you before shoving his scalp into your chest. You melted.
Satan’s so sweet to you, for real for real.
Lucifer purrs.
Now don’t ask him or accuse him of purring because he will deny it, vehemently.
((The Avatar of Pride does not purr, don’t be ridiculous, MC. (Lying through his teeth.))
You only had the opportunity to hear it once in your first year at RAD, the night before you left, he had let you hold his head in your lap and bask in the warmth of your stomach and thighs in between the other activities you did that night.
Lucifer’s eyes has lidded and he gaze up at you with near heart shaped pupils, eyes nearly completely red, and a low rumble began in his chest.
At first you had thought he was growling and you did something wrong, but when you had stiffened up for a brief instance, Lucifer had snuggled his face deeper into your skin.
Asmodeus rattles.
You can’t see where it’s coming from, but it sounds like a baby rattle or the rattle of a snake.
“MC!” [aggressive rattling]
It was really confusing the first couple times and you had to eventually ask if there was a bug somewhere. Asmo, naturally, got offended, but as soon as you told him it was okay and you were just curious, he tells you it means he’s happy.
Cutie Patootie!!
Belphegor licks.
Belphie doesn’t give short little kitten licks, he gives long, drawn out licks across whatever he can access easiest (usually your neck or chest). His tongue is rough and tends to feel a bit scratchy against your skin and sometimes catches on your clothes.
The first time it happened was shortly after the attic incident, and you had thought you were alone in your bed and nearly had a heart attack when a lazy, oddly thick tongue went over your exposed forearm.
You, as one does when startled, screamed.
Belphie leans upward with a grumble, eyes alert though. “What’re you screamin’ about, MC?”
Beelzebub bites and buzzes.
He tries to keep it to just licks, he knows his teeth are sharp :( and he’d hate to hurt you by accident. But after you get your pact and harming you becomes much more unbearable, he will play-bite much more often.
AND he buzzes (like a fly, teehee) when he is especially content.
Leviathan purrs(?).
It’s probably some deep sea monster echolocation thing, but the closest you can describe it as is a purr.
Now getting him to purr is harder than getting Lucifer to purr, he gets up in his own head a lot, so usually when he’s sleepy he purrs (maybe it’s a trill?) into your side.
Bonus for Memphis, TN. (Mephisto)
Since we have not seen his demon form (thx solmare), I have to use what I know of my babygirl to guess what he is like.
I think he probably taps MC with his cane, like a poke or something idk it’s cute give me more mephisto content pls.
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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hi love! Ive been fawning over your drabbles for the past few hours (marauders girlie but ur honestly converting me into the other fandoms with ur writing).
I had a cute idea for a short poly!marauders, something involving maybe the reader and sirus being prone to getting sunburnt easily? (I hope this makes sense 😞) Where Remus and James tease the two of them but quiet down when they (reader/sirus) threaten not to put sunblock on for them (who would pass on that offer). Maybe a beach day?
Thank you lovely!
cw: reader is implied to have pale/light skin
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 745 words
“Hold your breath, lovie.” 
You pinch your eyes and mouth shut in anticipation, and still a small sound escapes you at the chilly spray hitting your back. 
“Fuck, that’s cold,” you hiss, and James chuckles as he sets the can of sunscreen down, rubbing it in with his hands. 
“You need it.” Remus’ tone is amused. He takes the sunscreen to give Sirius’ back the same treatment, ignoring your boyfriend’s shrill cursing. “You both do.”
“I don’t know, do they?” James asks, and you can hear the mischief in his voice as his fingers slip under the tie-string of your bikini top to get the sunscreen in there. “I think they may just refract the sunlight rather than soak it in. Look at them, they’re gleaming.” 
“Fuck off,” Sirius grumbles. 
“You may be right,” Remus says. A little smile plays on his lips as his hands move over Sirius’ shoulders. “I think if they walked about twenty meters off, I wouldn’t be able to tell either of them from the sand.” 
“Moony, be fair,” James chides lightly. “We’d be able to see ‘em. They’re definitely lighter than the sand.” 
“Alright.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “We get it, we’re pale. You’re hilarious.” 
James’ hand snakes down, giving your bum a playful squeeze as he leans around you for a kiss. You give in much too easily for Sirius, who groans in protest as you close your eyes and relax into James’ embrace. He breaks the kiss after a few seconds, taking the sun lotion in hand and beginning to apply it to your face with loving, pacifying touches. 
“Turn around, love,” Remus says. 
“Oh, so you get to ridicule me and then I’m supposed to be obedient?” asks Sirius haughtily. 
“Mhm.” 
“Well, I don’t think—” 
Remus picks the can of sunscreen back up, spraying it on the back of Sirius’ neck. He yelps, turning, and Remus pushes him down onto a folding chair. 
“There we are.” He crouches in front of his boyfriend, smearing sun lotion on his reddening face with the tolerant manner of a patient schoolteacher. “Oi, James, d’you think that if we got stranded at sea, one of these two might work as a beacon?” 
“Oh, absolutely.” You see the delighted scrunch of James’ nose when you glower, his thumb rubbing carefully under your eye. “We shouldn’t even bother with flares, they won’t be half as effective. Actually, if we take the sunscreen off them now, they’ll probably get red enough to attract the eye for miles.” 
Sirius huffs, but you give your boyfriends an appraising look. 
“So what I’m hearing,” you say slowly, “is that we need sunscreen and you don’t.”
Remus sends a small smile your way. “Basically, yes.” 
“S’not as essential for those of us with blood in our veins, lovie,” James agrees. 
“That’s too bad,” you tsk. “I guess you won’t be needing our help with it, then.” 
You look over at Sirius, and he grins, realizing what you’re about. 
“Yeah, seems like we’re off the hook, doesn’t it?” He smizes up at Remus, who frowns back at him. “They’re sort of missing out, the massage isn’t half bad.” 
James’ hands still on your face. “Is that a threat?” he asks amusedly. 
You shrug. “It’s an incentive.” 
“You realize we could just leave you like this,” Remus points out. “You could spend all day under the umbrella while James and I get to enjoy the sun.” 
“I’m perfectly capable of lotioning my own ass,” you say, and James’ eyes dip almost regretfully to the parts of you he hasn’t gotten to yet. “Or, I wouldn’t mind helping you finish up, Siri. Would that work for you?” 
Sirius grins sharply, ignoring where Remus sits in front of him and patting his lap twice. “Get over here, gorgeous.” 
You start that way, but James’ lotion-slicked hands catch at your waist, preventing you from getting far. You grin up at him, expectant. 
“Alright, point made.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Sirius wouldn’t do half as good a job with you as I am anyway, so I’ll finish you up, then you do me. Fair?” 
You glance at Sirius, who exchanges a look with Remus before nodding back at you. 
“Fair,” you say. “I meant what I said, though. I’ll be doing my ass myself.” 
James’ face falls, and Sirius cackles loud enough that Remus looks around you in embarrassment. 
“Shouldn’t’ve made fun of her, Jamesie. Our actions have consequences.” 
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saetoru · 2 years
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#𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆’𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃
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☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ kento’s adjusting to life with a scarred face and body, one day at a time, hand in yours.
— pairing ⋮ nanami kento x reader
— length ⋮ 5.2k words (it could be worse methinks)
— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, post-shibuya incident (i've not rly gotten that far into the manga, so there isn't too much from it), nanami lives, he's having a hard time adjusting to his scars :(, insecure nanami, hints at ptsd, mentions of marriage and having children, body worship, blowjobs, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, creampie — he might be ooc i tried my best 🥹
— notes ⋮ this was supposed to be posted for his birthday…which was a month ago :,) anyway happy (very late) bday to my first ever jjk love—you are still the most special in my heart i miss you dearly. ty bby mich for reading over this mwah ily lover 🫶🏽
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“here,” you murmur, smiling at nanami before setting the mug of coffee down on the nightstand beside him, “just how you like it.” 
it’s a routine by now. 
every day, at nine am sharp, you rise from your side of the bed, adjust the curtains so the small peek of light from the cracks doesn’t disturb him as he sleeps, hum the same little tune as you shuffle out of the room, and you make his coffee. it’s the same every morning—black with two spoons of sugar—and sometimes, it’s the only thing that feels the same for nanami since he’s come home from that day. 
nanami doesn’t talk about the scars on his body. he doesn’t even really tell you details of how he got them after the incident. the only thing you really know is that it was bad, that he was half dead and half gone. he’d even left a voicemail—you still have it saved on your phone. he remembers walking through the pain, faintly thinking about how he couldn’t see through his left eye, and he thinks for a moment that he’ll die. he realizes that his goodbye kiss that morning would be the last kiss he’d ever give you, so he makes sure to part with at least one final piece of him before he does. 
but somehow, he wakes up. he opens his eye—one of them is permanently gone—and he sees you tearily gasp and shoko breathe in relief. and then he realizes he’s alive. 
“you should drink it while it’s hot, kento,” you say gently, carefully, like the wrong words are hot water to sunburnt skin. and you suppose they are—just that these burns are far worse. 
he only hums, sitting up with his back against the bed frame and his eye still trained on his phone in his hands. nanami’s never really been one to use his phone longer than he absolutely needs to, but these days it serves as a good reason not to look up and meet your eyes—a perfect excuse to hide that very visible side of him he just can’t ignore. 
“thank you, love,” he mumbles. 
“what do you want for breakfast? i can make—”
“i’ll eat later,” he says quietly. hallow. “you can go ahead and eat without me.”
nanami kento has never really dwelled on whether or not he’s attractive. not before missing half of his face, and certainly not after—that much hasn’t changed. what has changed, however, is that he now dwells on how unattractive he is. he stares a little extra longer in the mirror, walks a little extra faster when he strides past you, is a little extra cautious to make sure you’re never on his left side. you pretend you don’t feel him stiffen under your touch, and he pretends he doesn’t notice your eyes dim every time.
on most nights, he has the same recurring dream. one of a wedding—with pictures of you both gathered around by laughing friends and family, pictures on the wall in a house of your wide smile and his soft eyes staring at you. pictures that he’ll someday show your children, pictures your children will someday show their children, pictures that are worth reminiscing over. 
but then, just as his hand reaches for the frame of one, the same agonizing burn from that day spreads through his cheek, down his neck and arm, and stops just at his hip until he’s left numb on one whole side of his torso. then he’ll glance back at the photos, and suddenly, the same sunken hollows of his bones and the same marred skin of his face greet him. he wakes up every time to you beside him, watches the rising and falling of your unconscious figure that’s noticeably closer to him as you find him in your sleep each night despite him maintaining distance. 
he often thinks about the vacation photos you’ll never get to take, the family albums you’ll never get to make together, and sometimes, nanami wonders if he really is alive and well when he grieves for himself. he grieves for everything he ever was. everything he ever could’ve been.
“kento,” you sigh, making yourself comfortable on the mattress, right next to his figure as your arm presses against his. it’s quiet—but it’s not the same comfortable silence you’re used to with nanami. he’s not the same tall and steady mountain—now, you think, he’s just an ant pile on the ground, too easy to kick away as you pass by like it was never there. “come have breakfast with me,” you insist.
“i’m not too hungry right now,” he says instantly. he doesn’t let you hear any emotion to his words, doesn’t give you a lot of opportunities to pick up on how he’s feeling or what’s on his mind. it’s an added burden, he supposes—asides from caring for his wounds, asides from pretending like you’re fine and things are okay, you have to deal with all the feelings he can’t seem to handle himself.
nanami has only shown you a vulnerable side once since he’s come home. it’s after the first time he tries to take a shower, when the water pelting against his raw skin hurts too much for him to handle, when the heat of the water burns at the sore spots. he has to take a bath instead, so you help him wash his body gently, carefully rubbing over the skin with a washcloth like you would a newborn. he lays on your chest that night, clutches at your shirt and slots his body between your legs while you kiss his forehead and rub his back until he sleeps. 
after that, he sleeps on his side of the bed every night, and he doesn’t dare let himself cross over to yours. you try to stay on your half of the mattress until he’s ready, but you can’t control the way your body seeks his out in your sleep. by morning, you’re curled around his good arm, and he’s painfully stiff on his back as he sleeps, not moved an inch from the night before. 
“kento, you never skip breakfast. you’ve always lectured me when i try to,” you furrow your brows, “just eat a little.”
“i’ll eat later,” he repeats, a tad bit firmer this time. you sigh before pulling the covers over your legs and settling deeper into the mattress. 
“fine,” you huff, “i’ll just wait for you.”
“don’t be stubborn,” he frowns.
“i’m not.” 
you pinch your nose, rubbing over the bridge to collect yourself. you try to be patient with nanami. he’s always been patient with you, always gentle and kind even when he’s tired. he needs you now, so you try to do the same for him—try to be as perfect for him as he would be for you if the roles were reversed. 
but it’s hard for you too. 
it’s hard to see the shell of the man you used to know. you love nanami even with taut skin and rough scars. you love nanami even with an eye patch and a trembling hand. you love nanami even with distant words and scarce touches. you love nanami even if he doesn’t want to deserve your love, and you’ll keep loving nanami until he loves himself too. 
but it doesn’t stop you from growing impatient some days. 
“kento, the only one being stubborn is you,” you say frustratedly, the slightly irritated exhale you try to hide does not go unnoticed by him. 
he sets his phone down and looks at you fully for the first time in a long while. 
“i’m not,” he says dryly, “you can eat without me, i said i’ll eat later.”
“and you can join me for once instead of sitting here and feeling bad for yourself.” he doesn’t say anything after that. 
you wonder for a moment if you’ve gone a little too far, if you’re making things about yourself when they should be about him. you wonder if you’re selfish, if you hope he’ll heal for the sake of healing, or for the sake of being your kento again. you suppose maybe both.
but then you wonder if maybe he’ll ever even be the same kento again. but you think you’ll love this kento just as much as the old one—you think you’ll love every version of kento in every life. 
“i’m fine,” is all he says. 
nanami does not want to have breakfast with you. it’s not because he doesn’t like being around you—on most nights, he counts his blessings that you’re still climbing into bed beside him instead of packing your bags and walking away. it would be the easy thing to do, and he wouldn't blame you. maybe then, you might have a semblance of a normal life, a normal husband who doesn’t—didn’t, he couldn’t go back now—fight cursed blobs for a living. a wedding with happy pictures. a house with photos on the wall. children with a father they can go to the park with. family vacation albums you can put together. 
it’s all things he’s robbed you of, all things he let burn away along with the healthy flesh he used to have. he knows that if he tells you this, you’ll insist nothing’s changed. but paper does not smooth down no matter how flat you press it after being crumpled, nanami kento knows this better than anyone else.
he doesn’t want to have breakfast—he can’t stomach the idea of sitting across from you at the table, of feeling the aftershocks of failing you first thing in the morning. lunch and dinner are hard enough as is, and he doesn’t want to skip those and offer you lonely meals along with the pain and suffering he’s already brought onto you through his injuries. he also doesn’t want you to have to stare at his pink flesh and pathetic eye patch and trembling hand. he doesn’t want you to realize you’re stuck, bound to a cage to care for a flightless bird when you deserve the sun’s rays and the wind blowing between your own feathers.
perhaps if he’d died, you’d have mourned him for a year or two. maybe three. perhaps if he’d died, you’d keep one of the ties he’s always worn—the ones you can’t help but tease—and keep them in a box with a photo. maybe you’d meet someone new, someone who’d teach you how to laugh again, to smile and feel the wind on your face and the grass between your toes. maybe you’d get married and throw the bouquet with a sweet laugh and hopeful eyes. maybe you’d move on and be happy—and if he got lucky, maybe you’d take out the picture and tie from time to time, looking back and remembering him too. 
but now you’re stuck somewhere in between a stranger and the man you love, he thinks. and he’s stuck somewhere in between the living and the dead. 
“you’re not fine, kento,” you sigh, shuffling closer until you can hug his arm. he lets you, looks down at his lap and lets himself ignore his mind screaming no in favor of feeling you press your warmth against him. truth be told, he misses your touch—he just can’t find it in him to let himself have it. “and you don’t have to be. not right now, at least. but someday—”
“someday, i’ll have even more regrets than today,” he says skeptically. 
the sun pours through the small cracks of the curtain, hitting the skin he desperately wants to hide. he almost feels the ghost of a lone tear in the eye he doesn’t have. 
“no,” you say firmly, reaching to cup his cheek and turning him to face you. you trail your thumb over the scarred skin, rubbing over what would’ve been the apple of his cheek like you always do, like nothing’s changed. “kento, you’re alive. you have things to live for,” you say softly, leaning and pressing a kiss under his eye patch. 
and when a single tear rolls down the eye he does have, you catch it with your thumb and rub it away. 
“not a wedding,” he mumbles. 
“why not?” you tilt your head in confusion, “you…you don’t want to get married?”
“of course, i do,” nanami says quickly. he pauses, ponders his words for a moment before he decides to turn his body and face you fully. “i’m sorry,” he offers with a strained voice.
“what are you apologizing for, kento?”
“you won’t have the pictures you wanted. we won’t have photos on the walls, or vacation albums, or—”
“of course, we will,” you argue, furrowing your brows like the words he’s uttered are completely absurd. he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair—thankfully, that’s grown back in full, otherwise he doesn’t think he’d go out in public at all. the stares from people are expected, but he thinks the looks he’d get from being half bald might just have been a bit too much to handle. “kento, we can still do all the things we wanted. nothing’s changed.”
“everything’s changed,” he clenches his jaw, “i’d ruin them. the pictures, the moments. everything. if we had kids, i couldn’t even take them to the park, or drop them off at school, or pick them up. they’d get bullied by the other kids, the parents would whisper about you. i’d ruin it all. i am ruining—”
he doesn’t get to finish that last statement.
you climb onto his lap, cupping his cheeks with both hands and silencing him with a kiss. he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back even if he doesn’t understand how you can be kissing him in the first place. it’s like muscle memory. it’s involuntary, the way his lips mold against yours. like the way his heart pumps blood and his lungs breathe in air, like a compass points north and the sun sets west, nanami kento’s lips press back against yours as firmly as he can without fail. 
“not to me,” you whisper against him as you stop to breathe, “you wouldn’t ruin a thing to me. our pictures would be perfect, and our vacation albums too. our kids would be lucky. i’m lucky, kento,” your voice wavers. your eyes are glossy and your lips are trembling. you clutch his shirt this time, inching yourself closer until all that’s left is to climb into his skin. you’d do it if you could—scars and all. “i’m lucky you’re here, i’m lucky you’re alive. that you’ll scold me to go to bed on time at night. that you’ll make sure i don’t leave the house on an empty stomach in the morning. that you’re here to let me untie that awful tie of yours or hang your coat when you come home. that i don’t have to sleep alone. that i get to take bubble baths while you wash my back. that we can hold hands while we watch a movie. that you’re here kento—with me. i’m not…i don’t have to be alone. i’m alone when you’re gone,” you croak, tears slipping past your cheeks and splashing onto his shirt under you. “i don’t…i don’t wanna be alone. without you.”
it’s nanami who kisses you this time—and it’s the first time he kisses you himself, the first time he closes the gap and presses his lips to your own since he’s come home. he pulls your body flush against him, trying to make up for the time he’s kept you away. you kiss him back hard, silent streams of tears running down your face as you desperately taste him on your tongue. it’s a messy kiss, not like most of the kisses you’ve shared with nanami. this kiss tastes like narrowly missing death, like the reaper’s scythe misses by a hair, like heaven has closed its gates to grant you one more day on earth. 
you pull away first, and he almost protests until you kiss under his eyepatch again. you trail your lips down his cheek and jaw, littering soft pecks along the raised skin of his neck while he breathes heavier. he lets out a shaky breath when you gently lift the hem of his shirt up slightly, waiting for his approval—and he almost wants the pull the covers over his body and shut his eyes and sleep again, but he decides to take a chance and let you peel his shirt from his body. 
he doesn’t meet your eyes. he can’t. not when you’re staring down at his skin, tracing along the line that separates healthy flesh from scarred—along the line that separates his past from the present. and then you cross over to the side that’s not so perfect, that’s not smooth and promising under your touch, the side that’s rough and tight and a reminder of things he failed to do—and you kiss it.
“you’re beautiful. perfect,” you murmur as you kiss along his collarbone, all the way to his shoulder and back again, down his chest and along his abs, right to his waist where you press one last kiss to his hipbone sweetly. he’s panting by now, and nanami is more than a little embarrassed that he’s as hard as he is from something as little as affection. 
but your lips are so near where he needs them so badly—and it’s been ages since he’s let himself indulge in anything sexual. even on his own. 
“can i?” you hum, making him groan when you roll your palm over his crotch, feeling his erection poking through his pants. he lets his head fall back, lets his hands clutch the sheets under them as you untuck him from his pants when he nods. “missed you, kento,” you murmur, kissing the head of his cock. 
the gesture makes him shudder, a weak grunt falling from his lips as he breathes heavier, letting out a soft groan when you smear the dribbling pre cum from his tip along his length. he’s sensitive, you note, more than he usually is—maybe it’s from not doing this for so long, maybe it’s from finally letting himself indulge in your touch after avoiding it, maybe it’s from the excitement that you still want him enough to do this. whatever it is, nanami moans softly when you stroke him slowly, chest rising and falling as you squeeze the base of his cock with every drag of your fist, cursing when you lean and press a small kiss to his inner thigh from your spot between his legs. 
he spreads them a bit wider to make more room for you. he’s on what used to be your side of the bed—he lays there the first night so his burns aren’t next to you, and you don’t have it in you to protest. looking up to meet his gaze, you smile gently at him. 
“do you want to stop?” you ask as you rub his thigh soothingly, “we don’t have to if you—”
“no,” he pants, “just…i…i’d like to keep going,” he says quietly. with that, you shoot him a bright grin, one that makes his heart flutter in his chest and his cock twitch between his legs. you pump him a few more times in your hand before leaning in to press a kiss to his tip once more, this time swirling your tongue around the fat head of his cock, gliding through his slit. he groans, low and deep from his chest, lets a hand fall to your head while the other fists the sheets. 
“love you, kento. i love you,” you murmur, and then you’re taking him in your mouth, wrapping your lips around his length and swallowing around him. he bucks his hips on instinct, gasping when your hand comes to fondle with his balls, massaging them gently while you bob your head up and down his cock. 
“f-fuck,” he rasps, “feels…feels good,” he breathes, closing his good eye and letting his head fall against the frame of the bed. you hum around him, the vibrations making him twitch slightly above you before you pick up the pace. 
it’s messy, the way you loosen your jaw and fuck him with your mouth, the way his tip hits the back of your throat as a mix of your drool and his pre cum drips down your chin. he lets out a breathy whine when your tongue drags along the vein under his cock—he’s always been sensitive there. you still know him like the back of your hand, like he’s the same, like he’s not a stranger but the man you love, like nothing’s changed. 
nanami has felt the warmth of your mouth pull him into blinding pleasure more times than he can count, but he never thought something so vulgar could make him feel so warm in his chest. you bob your head down, taking him deeper into your mouth, and he chokes on a cry of your name as he cradles the back of your head. 
“‘m close, love—f-fuck, you sh-should—” he tries to warn you with a gentle tap to your head, but you’re determined to push him off the edge, so your hand squeezes around his balls a bit tighter, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and making his hips buck upwards as he grunts in surprise. he cums with a twitch of his cock, his orgasm crashing over him sooner than he expected. you hear him gasp, moaning brokenly as his eyes close and his lips tug between his teeth, hips rolling into your mouth against his better judgment. you swallow what you can of the hot, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth, hand pumping the base of his cock where you can’t fit. every crack in his voice and every low call of your name as he spills into you makes the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, an ache steadily building between your legs. 
“so good,” he pants, spilling the last few ropes of his cum as he cants his hips up, “f-feels so good.” you pull away, swallowing whatever’s in your mouth as you stare up at him, making his eyes close as he lets out a low groan at the sight. you giggle when his cock twitches again between his thighs, still hard and heavy between his legs. 
“not enough, baby?” you tease, kissing just below his belly button before you climb onto his lap, cupping his face as he smiles softly. 
“i suppose not,” he chuckles lightly, “i don’t think i’ll ever get enough of you.”
“i love you, kento,” you murmur again, kissing along his jaw and nipping at his skin. his hands grip at your hips, squeezing firmly as he guides your clothed cunt to rub against his cock, making you sigh against his neck as your clit rubs over him through the fabric. “so much, you know. i don’t think i could ever stop.”
“yeah?” he asks quietly, “you think so?”
“yes,” you pout, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crevice of his shoulder. he wraps an arm tightly around you, rubbing the small of your back as he feels you as close as space permits you to get—and even then, it’s not close enough. “i’m pouring my heart out, right now. you could say ‘i love you too,’ you know. now would be a perfect time.”
you feel his chuckle rumble from his chest against yours, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh since he’s opened his eyes that day. 
“no need to get so impatient, love,” he teases. nanami feels the sun soak his skin through the cracks of the curtains, and he sees the way it catches in your eyes and brings out the small flecks in your irises as you pull from the crook of his neck to press your forehead to his. the day has only begun, but he thinks for the first time in a long time, there’s more waiting for him. “i,” he presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, “love you too.”
“a lot?” you bat your lashes with a cheeky grin. he shakes his head in amusement. 
“i’ll have to think about that one,” he pretends to ponder for a moment. 
“kento,” you whine, pouting deeper. nanami chuckles once, then twice, and then soft, sweet laughter pours from his mouth like honey trickles from the comb. it makes you giggle with him, contagiously pulling you to join his moment of glee. his chest is light but his arms are heavy with the weight of you in them—and he can’t ask for more. 
maybe nothing’s changed after all. 
“a lot,” he agrees with a nod. “i love you a lot. more than anything.”
“i want you more than anything,” you whisper, gently grinding your hips down on him, biting your lip as he drags along your throbbing clit. you whimper softly when his hand travels under your shirt, kneading your breasts in his palms as you roll your hips against him. 
“i think i can give you that,” he murmurs. 
it happens quicker than you can imagine. your shirt is pulled over your arms and your bra is unclasped. nanami flips you both over so your back hits the mattress and he’s hovering over your chest, lips wrapping around a pebbled nipple as he sucks and rolls his tongue over it. your hand clutches at his blonde locks, head thrown against the pillow as you whine, back arching a little when his hand reaches for your other tit and his fingers rub and pinch at your nipple so as not to leave it neglected. 
“k-kento, please,” you breathe, “more.” 
he hums, switching his mouth and his hand to give the same attention to the other side, slotting a knee between your legs and spreading them wide. you’re dripping, pussy aching as it craves the stretch of his cock. it’s almost nauseating, how much you need him—thankfully, he seems to have an idea. 
you breathe his name the same way you always do when he slips himself into you, breathless and in love, brimming with lust and awe, glossed with ache and need. he sets his jaw and presses his forehead to yours, feeling your tight walls squeeze him in as he lets you adjust. and when you buck your hips with a greedy whine, just like you always do, he all but pulls out completely before slamming into you, just like he always does. 
“god, kento,” you moan, “so full. feels good—always make me f-feel good. only you.” he groans at your words, hips rutting into you desperately as he chases the friction of your wet cunt, lost on the way your walls flutter around him. 
you were made for him, he thinks, the way your pussy hugs around him, the way he fits so perfectly, the way your bodies slot against each other just right when you pull him close. nanami kento is sure you were sculpted by steady hands, deliberate and slow—and he can only hope he’s enough to be yours, enough to reach for your hand and feel the way your fingers entwine and your heart seeps through your palm into his. 
he’ll cradle it carefully, until he’s enough for you, until you’ll willingly take his heart when he hands it to you too. 
but something tells him from the way your cling to him, arms around his neck, chests pressed so closely that your nipples graze, that you want his heart in your palm too. 
“fuck,” he grunts, “missed fucking you like this,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as you mewl, raising your hips and meeting his sloppy thrusts halfway. “missed the way you take me so well, love. so tight,” he breathes. 
he lets a hand travel between your bodies, rubbing at your clit in slow circles that make you squeal, legs wrapping around his waist as your thighs tremble. his fat tip kisses your sweet spot, the one he knows by heart as he angles his hips and slams into you with precision, the slow, sloppy roll of his hips building up your orgasm in a steady ache. your hands find his hair, tugging at the roots as you let wanton moans spill from your mouth. and he’s everywhere, his skin against yours, his mouth pressing hot, searing kisses along your jaw, his vein dragging along your walls as his cock curves into you just right. 
you can feel the coil in your belly tighten until it’s just ready to snap, can feel yourself get closer to your high, can feel the way nanami is close too as he twitches in your dripping heat. he’s groaning into your neck, head falling into the juncture of your shoulder as he lets out deep grunts, balls heavy and aching to release. 
“kento, kento,” you chant his name. it leaves a tender feeling swimming in his chest, fond and proud and a little grateful all at once. the way you say his name like that makes him think you still need him, that he’s still enough, that he’s still everything you want. and when you tug at his roots, letting out a soft sob as his thumb rubs harshly over your sensitive clit, he smiles a little against your skin. “‘m so close kento, n-need it. need it so bad, please.”
“let go,” he kisses your neck, “cum for me, love.” 
and you do. hard. 
it’s been as long for you as it has for him—sometimes you let yourself forget that. but he slams himself into your walls, your slick smeared messily along your thighs, and you cum on his cock with a silent sob. your back arches as you cling to nanami, tugging at his hair while he fucks you through your high, groaning deeply at the way your walls spasm around his cock. 
your high sends him hurdling into his own release, his second orgasm rippling through his spine as pleasure burns through every nerve. nanami’s head falls to your shoulder, and he faintly registers your hand cradling the back of his head as he desperately ruts into you, rhythm sloppy. he paints your walls white, thick ropes of cum filling you up as he fucks his load deep into your sloppy cunt. 
“god—you’re all i need,” he moans, “everything i need—c-can’t lose you, never you. i love you. i love you,” he chokes, panting as he trembles in your arms with the last new waves of his high. you’re repeating the words back—and through soft sniffles, he faintly registers—while your fingers are gently threading through his hair. 
and when he slips out of you, slumping onto the bed beside you as he collects you in his arms, he realizes that this is the first time he’s laid on his side of the bed since he’s come home to you. 
“i love you, kento,” you say for what feels like the millionth time that night. and you think you’ll keep repeating it for as long as he needs it. “thank you for coming home to me.”
“thank you for bringing me home,” he smiles, kissing your forehead. 
you kiss over his scarred skin, he brings the sheets over your bodies, and nanami kento is home. nothing’s changed. 
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik
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miguelswifey04 · 9 months
Text
beach day with miguel
some silly headcanons
that man plans way too much for just a simple beach day 😭 he got a long list of what he needs to bring like beach essentials and actually brings extra of quite literally everything on that list…
you can’t tell that man NOTHING, “oh you forgot something!” “NOPE! i already got that!” LMAO he’s two steps ahead of you + you cannot joke with him that he forgot something because he will give you an earful
you both get there early…he’s the type to get at the beach early to get the best spot at the beach because he doesn’t want to fight parking. so, of course you get the best area at the beach and parking..the car would in good view so that miguel can spot that car every once in awhile to make sure nobody breaks into it (?)
miguel would let you carry the food, drinks, and small essentials like lotion, sunscreen + spray BUT would not let you carry the heavier stuff even if you’re capable, he just won’t let you. you’ll see him carrying all the beach chairs and everything, and you wonder how he can carry everything in one go like what the hell 😧. if you ask him if he needs help he’ll be “NOPE, i got it, don’t worry mi sol.”
he unironically calls you “mi sol” but he says it more at the beach because it’s sunny…and he says you’re hotter than the sun. HE GOT SOME CORNY ASS PICK-LINES he uses on you especially because you look hot in your swimwear attire.
he quite literally sets up everything LMAO don’t worry about none cause he got you covered. he sets up the umbrella, the blankets down, the chairs, the cooler, the food & table…maybe the canopy if it gets extremely hot later on. “get comfortable, everything’s set!”
y’all eat bomb ass food he whipped up last night whatever he likes and whatever you like he got that cooked 🤭 everything’s neatly organized and prepared and you’re like wowzers
he helps you put sunscreen FIRST then himself! very good with his hands and massages the sunscreen into your skin <3 sometimes you’ll end up napping in the first hour at the beach 😭
he always has to reapply sunscreen every 80 mins or else he’ll get sunburnt 😭
he always cracks a cold one at the beach and his favorite is modelo negra—his favorite cerveza 🍺 on a hot summer day at the beach 🏝️
you bring him a small fan for him because he does get overheated from the heat just because he’s very sensitive or you get him one of those fans that sprits water on your face!!
carries you in his arms to the ocean and it’s just so romantic of him, and he loves to kiss you a lot he doesn’t care if people stare or not like C’MON it’s at the beach who cares! am i right??
the music he plays on the speaker he bring at the beach would be CUMBIA 🫨💋 he will get up from his beach chair and pull you with him to dance 💃🏽 🕺🏽
y’all both nap together on the blanket comfortable at the beach together!! nobody would bother you guys because miguel is quite literally 6’9 and large…
i feel like he would go up to the lifeguard and start talking to him…just to see the beach conditions LOL
believe it or not he would be happy to take cute couple pictures when there’s no one nearby <3 he wouldn’t mind if you posted them either, just make sure he looks decent!
———
a/n: some of these headcanons were inspired from yesterday when i went w/ my bf & our friends 😭
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lovebugism · 10 months
Note
Oooooo how abt shy reader & Steve at the movie theater? 🥰
thanks so much for your request, angel! i hope you enjoy!! steve takes shy!reader to the movies to make up for a bad date, featuring a wee love-bomb (1.6k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Even though it’s your fifth date, you’re nervous like it’s your first.
It’s been a few months since then. Four of them, to be exact. 
Steve took you to a drive-in on your first date. He confessed some weeks ago that he thought it’d be easier for you — doing something that wouldn’t require a whole lot of talking outright. By the end of the movie, a reshowing of Rocky Horror, you felt more comfortable with him and less like the buzzing ball of anxiety you’d been when he picked you up earlier that evening.
The second date was dinner, the third was mini-golf, and the fourth was a picnic.
The fourth date did not go well.
Steve picked the hottest day of the year to eat outside. He hadn’t meant to, of course, but he certainly hadn’t packed enough water to combat the heat. And being that he also forwent the sunscreen, the two of you were sweaty, miserable, and sunburnt by the time he brought you back home. 
There was a world of bugs, too. The butterflies you hadn’t minded, but the wasps were a different story.
“I swear they’re antagonizing me,” you joked as you cowered into Steve’s side.
He was scared of them too, but he protected you anyway. “Well, what did you do to them?” he laughed with a pretty grin that made the heat and distant fear worth it.
“Nothing!” you giggled. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life!”
Steve smiled down at you, sandwich crumbs stuck to the corners of his mouth. “I know that’s a joke, but I totally believe you.”
And as if the day wasn’t already going horribly wrong, a couple of asshole kids kicked a soccer ball in your direction and smacked you against the ear. 
They were in kindergarten, practically babies, and their moms were very apologetic. And you, being too nice for your own good, promised them that it was okay — that it was an accident and that it barely even hurt.
That wasn’t totally true. Your ear was red and ringing then, and hadn’t lessened when Steve took you home. He got you into bed and nursed you back to health with a bag of frozen peas pressed to your ear and a million kisses.
“I’m sorry,” he’d whispered against the crown of your head as he held you to his chest. “I feel like I fucked everything up…”
“You’re not the one that whacked me in the face with a soccer ball,” you laughed.
“Yeah, but… It was really hot. And the bugs wouldn’t leave you alone…”
“They had a vendetta against me, I think.”
“Totally,” Steve chuckled.
Your jaw rubbed against the fabric of his t-shirt as you turned to look up at him. His scruffy chin jutted downward as he peered down at you. “You protected me, though.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. “So thank you.”
He scoffed. “Don’t thank me. You’re hurt.”
“’S not your fault.”
“Yeah, but I’m the idiot who wanted to picnic in a hundred-degree heat.”
“You couldn’t have known,” you retorted softly. 
Steve grew sheepish. With the hand not holding the frozen pack to your ear, his fingers brushed the length of your arm “So… you didn’t have the worst time in the world?”
“No, it was pretty bad,” you confessed, smiling when you felt his laugh rumble through his chest. “And I don’t know if I’ll ever go on a picnic again, but… I’m glad I got to be miserable with you and not someone else.”
You meant it. 
As overwhelming as the afternoon had gotten, Steve made it a lot less agonizing. He was your focal point, your teddy bear, your soft place to land. The big bouts of anxiety felt less significant with him holding you. Besides, you don’t think anyone else would clutch you to their chest and hold a bag of frozen vegetables to your throbbing ear. 
It wouldn’t feel as good with anyone else, either.
Steve’s smile curls against your forehead before he presses a kiss there. “I’m glad you get to be miserable with me, too, babe…”
The fifth date, though simple, had been carefully planned out.
He didn’t want a redo of the fourth one, lest you decide never to go out with him again. 
So he asks you to wait a few weeks before seeing Labyrinth despite your enthusiasm for the new film. He promises to take you, but that he’d rather wait until everyone else has already seen it so it could just be him and you in the theater.
And you, having never been a fan of huge crowds anyway, accepted without question.
He only asks that you wear the same pretty dress you wore to the picnic. The white sundress with the puffy sleeves and the flowy skirt that stopped just above your knee. Since, you know, neither of you got to enjoy it last time.
Steve leads you hand in hand into the cinema two weeks later. Everyone else was too busy crowding into the theater to watch the new Karate Kid sequel, which left the entire auditorium to yourselves. 
Well, mostly. There’s an older couple sitting in the middle off to the exit side. Steve jokes that they must’ve just heard that Labyrinth came out, and in two more weeks they’ll learn about Karate Kid. You giggle into your Slurpee.
The two of you settle in the very back of the theater in the center of the row. The theater isn’t dark, but it’s still dim — yellow in the faint lamps and the smell of buttery popcorn.
“Guess the means we can’t fool around in here, huh?” Steve quips, his shoulder nudging yours when he leans in to whisper to you.
Your eyes go wide, and your cheeks burn like a stove eye. “Steve!” you scold, much louder than you meant to. You shove him away with your shoulder, though you don’t really want him off you.
He reads you like a book and wraps an arm around you to press you closer to him. His musky cologne covers you like a warm blanket. Even in the dim light, his eyes twinkle when he grins down at you. “I’m kidding,” he promises.
“I was just about to thank you before you got all pervy,” you grouse lightheartedly.
“Thank me for what?” the boy scoffs. “For not taking you on the worst date of all time?”
“No. For… For buying my ticket and… for getting me snacks and everything…”
Steve shrugs. “That’s what a date is, babe. You let me do those things for you.”
“Yeah, but… You don’t have to do them, you know? But you do. So, thank you.”
You go sheepish, looking at him so shyly you’re practically peering at him from the corner of your eye. 
You do that a lot — not get all shy (even though you do that pretty often, too), but thank him for being your boyfriend. He doesn’t know if that sort of excessive politeness has been conditioned into you or if you had an ex that never did anything worth thanking them for. 
He doesn’t press the subject because he doesn’t want to stir up old ghosts. He remains curious about it nonetheless.
Steve squeezes your shoulder with one hand and digs his other into the container of popcorn in your lap. “Thank you for not dumping me after our last date.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” you promise, giggling.
“Yeah, ‘cause it was terrible!” he retorts dramatically. “I was scared you were gonna break up with me after that wasp started swarming you. And when you got whacked with that soccer ball, I was sure you were never gonna wanna see me again.”
It makes your heart hurt to think that he’d ever think something like that — that he’d been stewing over the whole thing long after you’d gotten over it.
“Honestly, I think it might’ve been a test,” you confess quietly.
“A test?” Steve snorts.
“Yeah, like… the world was trying to see if I liked you enough to suffer through second-degree sunburns, and bugs, and getting hit in the face, and… everything.”
The boy tilts his head to his shoulder. “And what did the world decide then, huh?”
“That I like you,” you admit, all quiet like it’s the first time you’ve ever said the words. Steve lost count around the millionth time they left his mouth. “Enough to do it all over again.”
“You like me?” Steve teases, as if your schoolgirl crush on him doesn’t give him schoolboy butterflies.
You nod and try not to smile too wide. “I really like you. And I’m scared to say the stronger word, so I won’t, but…”
“Stronger word?” the boy repeats with a laugh. His eyes go wide in realization a second later. “…Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh,” you mock with your own laugh, a lot more awkward than his had been. 
You turn your gaze to the popcorn in your lap. Steve analyzes your profile for any hint that you might be kidding. He knows you’re way too kind to joke around with his feelings like that — or yours, for that matter.
“Well, you know what?” he lilts.
You smile to yourself but don’t humor him enough to look at him with it. “What?”
“I’m not scared to say the stronger word.”
Your eyes sparkle in the dim light when they finally flit up to him. “No?”
“Mm-mm,” he hums with the shake of his head. “Actually, I’m pretty brave, as it turns out.”
“The bravest.”
Steve beams. “Exactly. And I love the shit outta you.”
You smile so big your cheeks hurt. “I love you too, Steve Harrington.”
He kisses you when the room goes dark.
He’s not a teenager, so it isn’t obscene, but the peck is languid and full of the words he’d just said to you. He spends the next two hours whispering them into your ear. I love you, I love you, I love you.
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ghost-proofbaby · 10 months
Note
EDDIE MUNSON - OURS
😭😭😭
ours (eddie’s version)
warnings: none. just tooth-rotting fluff &lt;3
wc: 1.4k+
a/n: i got a little carried away. but i wish i had an eddie munson to go home to each night and just kiss and cuddle goddamn it
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“Oh, is that your boyfriend?”
“He’s… interesting.”
“I guess when you said you had a boyfriend, I never envisioned someone like him.”
“You two are such… opposites! I mean- no! No, not a… bad thing, I suppose. Just… interesting.”
You were growing tired of it. You know people didn’t mean for their incessant questions or comments to get under your skin so badly, but they did. Any time someone at your new job caught sight of your phone’s lock screen – a joyous selfie of you and a sunburnt Eddie at the lake – or your work computer’s screen saver – a photo taken at dusk of Eddie on your couch, strumming on his guitar completely unaware – they had something to say. Something to point out. Whether it be the way you two didn’t seem to fit in their minds, or how rough around the edges he seemed to be. Some coworkers even pressed on how long you two had been together, pulling out the marriage card at a completely inappropriate time. One coworker had even made a snide remark on his long hair, saying “oh, I thought that was a girl! What a relief!”. It just…. It dug beneath your skin every time without fail, making you uncomfortable and irritated all in the same breath. 
You don’t understand why they cared so much. It wasn’t their relationship – they didn’t know you. You’d only started the job a few months prior. They could eat shit, for all you care.
Today had been a bad day. Maurice, one of the elderly women who worked at the front reception desk, had just been awful. She was always talking of you going on a date with her grandson, each time conveniently forgetting that you were already happily in a relationship, but today she’d crossed a line. She’d had her grandson physically come into the office at lunch time, and caught you just as you were on your way out the door to try and pick up something to hold you over until five o’clock would finally arrive. 
The one day you didn’t pack your own lunch. Go figure. 
“Oh! Dear! Over here!” she called  to you as you tried to scurry past her desk. You had held out the hope that the young man standing beside her would have occupied her, but no. No such luck for you on this wicked Thursday.
You took a deep breath before you turned slowly, forcing a polite smile as you faced the elderly woman, “What can I do for you, Maurice?”
“This is my grandson!” she animatedly motioned to the blonde boy at her side, and as he looked up, your stomach dropped, “Jason! The one I was telling you about!” 
Jason fucking Carver.
“Oh,” you tried to keep kind in your tone, but you were already feeling hatred prickle at the back of your neck. You knew all about Jason — he’d made Eddie’s life living Hell too many times to count. He was nothing like the angel Maurice had tried to paint, “I… It’s nice to meet you, Jason, but I really should get going. I’m on my lunch.” 
Jason didn’t take the social cue, stepping forward and stretching out his hand towards you, “Pleasure to finally meet the beautiful coworker my grandmother has been going on and on about. Words really didn’t do you justice.”
Gag. “You’re too kind. I do hope she also mentioned I’m already spoken for.”
Jason’s eyebrows shot up, glancing at Maurice for a second. “You’re taken?” 
You opened your mouth to say, yes, I am happily taken, but Maurice was already waving her hands about as if that fact of the matter was nothing more than trivial smoke. “Technicalities. She has a fling with that Munson boy-“
“It’s not a fling,” you stressed, your patience meeting its end, “We’ve been together for years. We live together. I’m really sorry, Jacob,” you purposefully say the wrong name as you turn to Jason, exasperated and not sorry in the slightest, “But I’m not interested. I’ll see you after lunch, Maurice.” 
You think you heard Jason call out a correction of his name from behind you, but you paid him no mind. Fuck him.
You ended up taking a longer lunch, not even caring for the consequences just so you could sit in your car and call Eddie. You described each person who walked into the building that you caught sight of, completely forgetting to scavenge a snack, too wrapped up in giggling at every ridiculous joke or story he makes up for the strangers.
He made it feel better. Maurice and Jason and everyone’s incessant comments forgotten. Their judgments never took this into consideration — this tranquility and Eddie’s ability to make you laugh until your ribs ached. They never considered the love that carried you home each night.
Five o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.
You practically speed the entire way home, forgetting to watch for any police cars half the time. Your poor front door cries out on its hinges as you barrel through it with only one thing on your mind: Eddie.
“Hey baby-“ Eddie tries to greet you, but he hardly has the time to set his guitar to the side before you’re falling into his lap where he sits on the couch. “Oof, bad day?” 
Your thighs bracket his hips and your nose is already nuzzling into his neck, his soft laughter shaking his shoulders slightly as your arms wind themselves around him to the best of your abilities. He returns the favor without hesitation; arms hold you close to his chest and you can feel his nose dip to graze along your temple.
“The absolute worst,” your voice is muffled by his neck, but he doesn’t seem to mind, so you continue, “I swear to God, if I had know this office was full of such judgmental assholes I would have never-“
“Woah, woah, woah,” he pulls you back slightly, bringing his hands up to hold both cheeks between his palms as his thumb trails softly against your cheek bone, “Are they being mean to you? Because if they are, just say the word – I’m not afraid to kick a couple of grandmas’ asses.” 
You laugh, sniffling a bit, still on the verge of tears out of relief of being home with him finally, “No, no. You don’t need to go and kick any elderly ass – today.” 
“What about tomorrow?” 
You pretend to think about it as you finally slide off his lap, sitting to his side as your legs remain draped on his lap. He’s quick to reach down and let his calloused fingertips graze a trail down your thigh, ending at your ankle before he wraps them around it and squeezes softly, “Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.”
“Yeah?” he questions, leaning his face down to your shoulder, peppering kisses there, eyes still attempting to glance up at you in adoration through thick lashes, “So not a no. Got it. I’ll have my boxing gloves at the ready.” 
You both laugh as Eddie continues his short assault of kisses. 
Your coworkers can say whatever they want. They can judge the two of you based on short snapshots all they please – they can’t take this from you. Not as his lips brush your collarbones, not as his palms massage your calves, and certainly not as he murmurs soft declarations of how much he missed you all day against your skin. 
“Say, you wanna play a song for me on that guitar, rockstar?” you say as you thread your fingers through his curls, noting the way they’re extra soft, as if he’d done a hair mask like you always pestered him to. 
He lifts his head and leans back casually against the back of the couch, eyes half-lidded as he smiles at you like you hold his entire world in the palm of your hand, “Maybe later. Right now, I just wanna spend some time with my baby.” 
“Oh, I see,” you snort, “You’re gonna break out sweetheart instead? No more dragon-slaying for today?” you joke, referencing his nicknames for his two guitars. 
He only shakes his head and rolls his eyes at you, surging forward and capturing your lips against his, teeth clashing a bit due to both of your wild grins. He has you falling backwards into the couch cushions in an instant and lets his weight settle between your thighs, enveloping you in smells of home. Just him, just you, just the love that you two have gardened here. No opinions of others ever needed.
“Shut up. I love you.” 
“and it’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong. and your hand’s a tough but they are where mine belong.”
824 notes · View notes
uluvjay · 9 months
Note
pt 2 of the luke smut of when she gets back to the lake house?
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Part two of this!
Luke Hughes x Fem reader
Warnings?; SMUT; Face-fucking, gagging, choking, kissing, cursing, slight handjob, hair pulling, neck kisses.
Hope you enjoy! Sorry for any errors
The girl smiled at Ellen as the woman opened the door upon hearing the knocks.
“Y/n! How was vaccination honey” The women greeted, opening the door all the way to invite her son’s girlfriend inside.
“It was great! We had a really good time” she smiled thinking back onto the fun time she had with her family.
“Aww that’s good, Are you here for Luke?” Ellen questioned as she lead the girl to the kitchen.
“Yeah we got back late last night and according to Quinn and Jack he’s been miserable without me” she laughed
“Oh they always over exaggerate” Ellen waved as she began picking ip her belongings that were on the kitchen counter and placing them in his purse.
“Is he still sleeping?” She asked the women noticing the lack of noise in the usually loud house.
“He is, Jack and Quinn are both away for the weekend and I’m heading out to meet Jim for lunch so the house it your guy’s.” She smiled as she picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.
“Ohhh have fun and tell Jim I said hi!” The girl smiled at her boyfriends mom.
“I will honey, thank you” Ellen smiled back and pulled the girl into a small hug before making her way to the front door.
As the girl began her way up the stairs she heard Ellen call out, “No funny business!”
“I promise we’ll behave Ellen!” She replied with a smirk on her face, knowing damn well that the second her boyfriend got his hands on her they would be fucking in minutes, especially after their interesting face time call just days before.
She quietly opened Lukes bedroom door to find him sleeping soundly. His messy curls spread across his forehead, his lightly sunburnt chest on display as soft snores left his mouth.
The girl smiled at the sight of him, knowing that his summer has consisted of a lot of training for his upcoming nhl season, she was glad he finally had a morning to sleep in.
She slipped off her shoes and hoodie leaving her in a tank top and Jean shorts before she made her way into Luke’s bed.
Lightly straddling the boy she leaned down and began placing kisses on his chest and up to his neck. She felt movement beneath her before a hand gripped her waist and another pulled her head from her assault on his neck.
She looked down and was met with her boyfriends sleepy eyes and a confused look on his face.
“Good morning Lu” she smiled down at him
“Hi?” He replied still trying to figure out how she ended up there.
Noticing that things weren’t clicking for him due to his barely awake mind she began to answer some questions for him.
“Your mom let me in before she left to meet your dad for lunch, and I got back late last night so I came over today” she answered the questions his eyes were asking as she ran a hand through his hair.
He just nodded before flipping them and tucking his head into her neck, attempting to go back to sleep.
“I’ve been gone for over a week and I don’t even get a hello kiss?” She asked
With a small groan the boy pulled his head back up and attached his lips to his girlfriend’s to give her a ‘welcome home’ kiss. But as he tried to pull away he felt her hands lace into his hair and pull him back into her.
Luke quickly realized that this wasn’t just a normal greeting and that his girl was horny. So with that in mind he softly pulled back and moved them around so his crotch laid directly against her core, allowing her to immediately grind herself against him.
“Miss me baby?” He teased looking down at the girl.
“So much” she whined
“Yeah? Was that Factime not enough for you?” He smirked
“No, need the real thing Lukey. My fingers don’t feel as good as yours” she told him
She knew she was inflating his ego but in order to get what she wanted out of him, she had to.
However Luke wasn’t stupid and caught on to her game quickly. “Trying to flatter me so I’ll fuck your throat pretty girl?” He asked as he tucked a hand under her chin.
Luke knew what she wanted and he’d give it to her but she wasn’t getting it easily.
“Maybe..” she smirked
“Yeah well I never heard you ask for it” he told the girl below him as he leaned himself down to place kisses along her neck.
“Fuck, will you please fuck my face throat Luke?” she begged as her hands gripped his hair at the feeling of his teeth nipping at her sweet spot.
“Hmm, I don’t know. I think you can do better then that” he teased
With a roll of her eyes and a sigh of annoyance the girl decided to tell the boy what he wanted to hear, figuring that it was the only way she’d get what she wanted.
“Please Lukey, I want you to fuck my face. Need it so bad baby” she moaned into his ear
Deciding that his girlfriend had begged enough he felt it was time to give her what she had been so impatient for.
He stood up and asked her to do the same before he began to strip her of her clothes. He started with her barely there tank top, then he undid her bra. He made his way down her body to the button of her shorts, slowly popping the button before he unzipped them.
“So pretty baby” he praised eyes moving over the length of her body.
“Thank you” she smiled up at him
“Mhm, now c’mon on your knees” he spoke
He could have came at just the sight of her naked and kneeling in front of him with her hands resting in her lap.
He quickly pushed his boxers down and gave himself a few slow pumps before telling the girl to open her mouth.
“Remember three taps to my thigh if you need air” he reminded her
“I know” she told him, knowing he liked hearing her verbally agree.
He gave her a simple nod before pushing her hair out of her face and inserting his thick cock into her mouth. He went slow at first, a deep groan escaping his throat at the feeling of her gagging around him.
He held you against his stomach for a moment until he knew you would need air and let you come up, watching as you pumped his cock while taking in deep breaths.
He smirked looking at your already teary eyes, getting ready to destroy your throat for the next few days.
You both moaned at the feeling of his cock going back into your mouth. however this time Luke didn’t go slow, starting with a rough pace enjoying the sounds escaping you.
“Fuck baby, just like that” he cried gripping your hair into a makeshift ponytail.
There wasn’t a sight Luke loved more than seeing you on your knees for him, spit and Precum covering your face while tears ran down from your eyes.
You looked up to watch his face as you moved yourself deeper on his cock, gagging around him once again. His head was throw back but his jaw was slack and the grip on your hair let you know he was already about to cum.
Pulling back slightly you ran your tongue over his tip, circling it just how he liked letting your own moan escape your throat as he locked eyes with yours.
As he got closer and closer to his high Luke’s moans got louder and his thrust became harder. The only thing heard besides his deep breaths and moans was the sound of your slight gagging and the mixture of your spit and his pre-cum.
“Almost there baby, fuck!” He cursed pushing your head all the way down against his stomach as he thrusted his hips once more and came down your throat.
He smirked listening to you choke on his thick cum as he pulled out of your mouth.
“Swallow it” he demanded, eyes glistening with joy as you did as told, sticking your tongue out to show him it was all gone.
“Good girl” he praised you as he helped you onto your feet and grabbed a towel hanging on the back of his door for you to wipe your face.
“Ca-can you get me water” you grumbled, voice not quite there
“Of course” he smiled as he pulled his boxers back on and grabbed a hoodie of his for you to slip on.
A few moments later he returned with two bottles of water and some snacks, climbing into his bed beside you.
“Thanks” you said voice still a bit scratchy.
“No thank you baby, you always take such good care of me” he told you placing a kiss onto your head.
-
417 notes · View notes
bluecollarmcandtf · 9 months
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Farmboy
I hate grocery shopping. Usually I make whatever dumb chick I'm seeing do that crap, but I'm between hoes right now. Hopefully the cashier is hot enough to flirt with.
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Dragging the cart down the aisle, I almost run into a giant oaf studying a rows of cans. The guy is tall, fat, and severely sunburnt. I can tell he's got some impressive muscle beneath his chub; probably from all the labor he does on his farm. Wearing denim overalls and a straw hat, he's essentially a walking cliche.
"Hey move it, redneck," I snap.
"You have a problem with me, son?" he slowly turns and peers out from his dirty beard.
"Not you," I answer annoyedly, "Just your fat ass. Move it."
This guy has to be slow because he just doesn't seem to get it. Instead of getting out of my way, he takes lumbering steps towards me and grabs my cart with his meaty paws.
"Try again, son."
"Man, let me through already!" I roll my eyes, "Are you dumb or something? All I want to do is pass! Then you can get back to shoveling crap and humping cows, ok?"
The hulking farmer staggers towards me until his fat stomach almost bumps me over.
"You think I shovel crap and hump cows all day?" he quietly growls down at me.
"Sure. You probably sleep with the pigs too big guy," I add.
"That sounds more like something you would do, kid," he slowly retorts.
"Man, look at me," I cry, "Do I look like a filthy redneck?"
"Actually you do."
His response catches me off guard. I'd just wanted to get the shopping done, but now this guy is straight up lying to my face. No one could ever mistake me for a country bumpkin with my stylish hair and $300 sneakers.
"You look exactly like a farmboy," he continues to grumble, "Just take a look at your hands, kid. See how worn they are; how filthy they are. That's the sign of hard work right there."
I can't help but hold my hands out in front of me.
That can't be right! Just like he said, dirt and dust cover my palms all the way up my arms. They're somehow riddled with callouses even though I rarely used my hands for anything.
"What'd you-"
"And look at what you're wearing, kid," he keeps talking, "You've been tracking dirt all through the store with those boots."
"I have $300 sneakers..." I nervously glance down.
I almost scream when I don't see my favorite kicks. My shoes have somehow been replaced with big rubber boots. I don't even own a pair of these, and yet they cover my feet all the way up my shins. Like the farmer had said, they were caked with mud, and it looks like I had created a messy trail of footprints across the store.
"Stop," I beg quietly.
"Stop?" he laughs and each bellow echoes through the store, "I'm just getting started, kid. You haven't even looked in the mirror yet. You've got the same bib overalls I got on!"
I shudder and turn away, abandoning my cart to run through the store in my awkwardly huge boots. I need to find the nearest bathroom and fast. I can already feel my clothes changing and a pair of straps pulling at my shoulders.
Bursting into the restroom I stare at my reflection.
I'm wearing the same redneck outfit as that farmer freak! Before I start ripping the clothes off, the door slams open and the giant farmer lumbers in.
"Stop whatever it is you're doing to me!" I scream, "Give me my clothes back!"
"Why would I do that, kid," he asks, "You love this getup. You don't want those fancy city clothes anyway."
I cringe as the tall boots suddenly feel very comfortable on my feet. The straps of the overalls on my shoulders are all the sudden very comforting to me. God this thing stinks, but I feel a new kind of pride in that stench. It is after all my own smell. There's nothing wrong with reeking of hard work, right?
"That's it, kid," the big redneck pats my head with his dirty hand, "There's nothing you'd rather do than work on my farm, right?"
God, he's right. All that land, the animals, and solitude sound perfect. I would be happy to work on his farm.
"Alright farmboy, come with me."
I follow behind the giant as he marches out of the grocery store. I notice that the cashier is exceptionally cute when we pass, but a pretty girl like that has no interest in me. She cringes at my smell. Girl probably can't handle the smell of a real man.
Back at the farmer's ranch, he leads me to the barn, and shows me inside.
"You'll live in here with the animals, kid," he explains, "I'll teach you the routine of feeding all them, but I have other chores for you to do right now."
The farmer hands me a shovel and bucket. Both things are covered in mud and who knows what else, but I don't mind. I already can guess what my job is.
"Picking up crap and humping cows, huh," he chuckles, remembering words I said a lifetime ago, "Well you can get started by shovelling all the crap. We'll see about the cows later."
"Awesome," I smile, happy he's already trusting me with his animals.
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I get right to work, shovelling up the piles of dung. I can't help but smile with joy. This work just makes me so happy. I should probably keep my mouth closed though if I don't want any flies buzzing in, but I just can't help myself. Boy, am I glad I ran into the guy.
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grapejuicestyless · 2 months
Text
Could You Imagine That?
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
Summery: You failed. The gold, the cross, the fame, the fortune. But really, who cared? Not when you had the best gift of all. Inspired by the song: Forever by Noah Kahan
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We listen to Pope and Kiara argue about who knows how to build a fire better, throwing logs into a heap by a pile of rocks and lining stones in a circle in the sand. John B and Cleo make beds for everyone to sleep on and Sarah works on some sort of spear for us. Yet, JJ and I haven’t even given a second thought of how long we just might be here for.
Maybe a few more hours, a couple days or years. In the end, did it really matter? We’d been just fine so far and we’d swear the feeling of freedom was worth it no matter how starved we became or how cold the nights were. We’d screamed about Poguelandia hundreds or times already, calling out the name of this great island and hoisting the flag we’d painted with rocks and the mud packed beneath them. Our hands pruning from the salt water and our shorts left on the edge of the shore line while we ran around in our underwear, splashing around like little kids and laughing like old friends should.
“We’re broke!” We laughed, finding the fact that we failed more funny than anything. Because had we really failed if we got a greater gift than what being filthy rich could give us?
“But real rich in our heads!” JJ would scream back, chasing me down along the edge of the ocean. And when the waves slowed my strides he lifted me from my waist with his tanned arms, not minding how our wet bodies stuck together like glue and our clothes would surely stink like ocean for as long as we’d be here.
“Won’t be alone for the rest of our lives!” I laughed in his hold, and his grip restricted my lungs but I would take the ache that came with it over any other feeling in the world. Because even after he loosens his grip, he never really lets me go and I am reminded of how he’s always within arms reach. Ready to make me smile, make me laugh. And it’s worth more than anything money could buy.
“Can you guys help us?” Kiara calls out desperately, but even she can’t hide the smile on her face, how much she loves the idea of it just being her and the Pogues all together and safe for just a small moment in the grand timeline of adventure ahead. No parents, no threats, no blood or tears. Just the sun and sand beneath our feet. A good cooked fish roasting over the fire and beds woven with leaves under our heads.
“Come in the waters just fine!” JJ splashes, catching a glare from Pope as the salt water briefly tames the fire they just started. And when Kiara catches his line of vision, we don’t have to look back to know their broken laughter is because their stripping to join us in the sea. Ready to splash around carelessly like children do, like we do.
“Can you imagine being here, like this forever? No more window shopping or late rent!” I laugh, bearing all my teeth in my smile when Kiara wraps her arms over my shoulders and places a sloppy kiss to my cheek.
“Won’t be alone for the rest of our lives!” She repeats my words back to me, eyes shining with the glow of the sunset that casts a warm hue over her sunburnt cheeks.
“Poguelandia forever, baby!” JJ’s arms pull Kiara away from me, and like glue, I’m stuck to him with nothing more to offer than the sweetest smile and the world shining in my eyes. I feel more alive than ever and theres not an ounce of gold that could replace it.
“Oh my god!” Cleo laughs at the scene in front of her, dry wood under her arm and a soft blush in her cheek from the sun. We’re all drenched in salt or sweat but we can’t help but feel absolutely okay with it.
You could fly over head at that very moment, on the search for miserable teens in need of help and you wouldn’t even look twice. The way everyone laughed like brothers and sisters and cherished what the world gave them, you’d think we were on some vacation. Like we hadn’t washed up here by accident.
Broken bones and aching muscles worth every moment that led us to this island and this life.
Looking back at JJ, I see the stars in his eyes and the world under his feet. It’s all we’ve ever wanted. A simple life by the ocean with all the people we love. So, we might be broke, we might be hungry and by god we might smell but by god are we richer than most.
“Poguelandia forever.” JJ whispers only for my ears to hear, forehead pressing against mine and his eyes observing the crinkles by my eyes. His thumbs lift from my hips to rub against my cheeks. Then he kisses me, kisses me in a way I hadn’t felt since before death looked at us in the eyes and grief was all we knew. Like we both knew finally that it would all work out and we would be okay.
When we pull away, we share the same hazy look we had plastered on our cheeks before and his hands plant themselves firmly on my hips once again. Squeezing the skin between his fingers playfully and drowning out the world around us.
“Could you imagine that.”
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stardustloserdoll · 5 months
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beach day
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“don’t run tom, unless you wanna scrape your face on the concrete.” bill mumbled taking the chairs and umbrella out of the car.
i chuckled as i got the cooler out. “whatever.” rolling his eyes tom grabbed the towels, closing the trunk and locking the car.
“okay pick a spot.” bill said moving his hair out of his face. “hm i think that’s a good spot.” i said pointing, nodding their heads we began walking towards the spot.
once we set up everything we all sat down. tom taking out a bowl of watermelon from the cooler. “nice and cold.” tom said rubbing his hands together and getting a piece.
getting the sunscreen from the bag i began applying some on my face and body.
“the weathers so nice today.” bill smiled leaning back in his chair. “i know. can’t wait to go in the water, are you guys going in?”
“yuppp and bill is too.” tom said tying up his locks. “we should eat first though.” i said. “also. don’t forget your sunscreen.” handing bill the bottle he began putting some on, handing the bottle to tom. tom shook his head and stood up “i don’t need any, i never get sunburnt.”
“ugh we have to wake up early tomorrow.” i groaned as i spoke with bill. “i know i can’t wake up early.” bill spoke moving the wet hair from his face. looking around i noticed tom wasn’t around. “where did tom go?” bill shrugged and began bellyfloating. looking around i felt a tug on my leg pulling me underwater.
as i resurfaced from the water i was face to face with tom laughing at me. “i hate you.” i gasped spitting the water out my mouth, moving my hair. tom swam over and hugged me “I’M SORRYYY.” i rolled my eyes and splashed water at him.
“i think i’m done for today.” bill said walking out of the water shaking his hair. i splashed tom and looked over at bill “i think i am too.” i laughed as i pushed toms head underwater. “aw come onnn!” tom said wiping his face.
i stood next to bill and watched as tom swam around. “tom we should probably go, we got a big day tomorrow.”
“fineee.” as tom got out he walked in front of us, freezing he turned towards us. “ow ow ow..” tom whimpered as he extended his arms. “YOU GOT SUNBURNT.”
bill laughed as he pointed at his red arms and back. “oh my gosh.” i laughed covering my mouth looking at his red body. “STOPP.”
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wol-fica · 11 months
Text
-𝕄𝕖𝕖𝕥 ℂ𝕦𝕥𝕖-
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pairings - jennaortega x fem!writer!reader
summary - you got hired for a huge new gig as a script writer for season two of wednesday, the events after help you meet someone new…
warnings - none !
an - i’m alive, tell me i’m pretty
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June 9th, 2023 Coachella Valley, CA: 1:27 PM
You were going to be late, exceedingly so. 
You had a meeting scheduled for 1:30 PM sharp, any later would cause you to lose the job. Many times you had said that you were interested in the opening, promising to be a hard worker and wonderful staff member to the writing crew for the upcoming second season of a netflix show titled Wednesday. It was everything you could ever wish for, the job was like a dream to you.
But now, your hopes of getting to write on such an incredible show are being crushed due to many unfortunate events transpiring throughout the day. 
Firstly, you woke up later than expected and had to hurry around to get yourself ready and organize your idea board that was going to be presented at the meeting. Then, the water pipe under your sink burst, causing you to have to fix it and get soaked in the process. And finally, your dryer decided to completely break down on you, which meant you needed to pull a new outfit together, which left you literally sprinting through the hallway of the building your meeting was being held at while fixing your hair to look at least decent in front of all the professionals you were going to be working with. 
Soon the door to the meeting room came into view, relief washing through you when your watch stated that it was 1:29 PM. Perfect, right on time. Gathering yourself in the final few seconds you had, you brushed out a few wrinkles in your shirt and held your chin up proudly before pushing the door open and heading inside.
“There she is!” Dave, another writer, exclaimed with a smile, “I knew she would show up…eventually.”
“I’m so sorry, my morning was hectic as hell.” You apologized, setting your stuff down and taking a seat next to your other coworker named Matt.
“No biggy, you’re right on time.” Matt said to you with a smile, pushing a fresh cup of coffee in your direction.
You took it gratefully, bringing the drink to your lips to take a sip. Everyone was seated, adjusting their papers and whatnot while you waited for the show's producers to arrive. 
“For how much they nip at our necks to be on time, they really don’t seem to feel the need to be punctual.” Aurora said from your right, resting her head in her hand.
“Stuck up, is the right description.” The lead writer, Elsa said, jotting down what seemed to be some final touches to her idea, “They will be here when it is convenient for them.”
A chorus of ‘mhmmm’s came from the group, everyone nodding in agreement while you stayed silent. Judgment wasn’t a huge thing for you, especially since you knew most of the producers and was familiar with how hectic their schedules can be with having the weight of the entire show’s production on their backs. Besides, the ones you have met so far are pretty friendly people, so you didn’t feel the need to act petty with their late arrival. 
“How was your weekend Y/N?” Matt asked you, attempting to strike up a friendly conversation, “I noticed you look a little sunburnt.”
“Oh, yeah.” You chuckled, looking down at your slightly pink arms, “I went paddle boarding at the canal, forgot to bring sunscreen.” 
“I can tell.” He said with a smile, “At least you will gain a sick tan.”
“The wonderful aftermath!” You joked, both of you laughing lightly.
Matt sucked in a breath, sipping his coffee before setting it down on the table. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the opening of the office door. 
In walked the producers, all six holding script copies and large binders full of each writer's bullet-note ideas for the next season of the show. You knew three by name, two by face, and one you have never seen before. Well, never seen was a lie, you of course have witnessed the incredible Jenna Ortega and her infamous role as THE Wednesday Addams, but you had never formally met her. The most interaction you have had together was at the premiere for season one; you were dragged along by Elsa so you could see what you were up against, and you happened to be sitting two seats away from Jenna, who had given you a curt nod when Elsa introduced you to Tim. 
“Hello everyone!” Max said, one of the two executive producers, “Sorry for being late, our meeting went longer than expected.”
“No big deal.” Dave replied, standing to shake his hand politely, “We weren’t going to start without you anyways.”
“Let’s get started shall we?” Max said, looking around the table before pausing when he saw you, “Oh Y/N! Glad you made it!”
You shyly waved, a small smile on your face as many eyes went to you, “I’m glad to be here.” 
“I’ve read some of your scripts before, very impressive in my opinion.” Another producer, face but no name, said with an approving nod. 
“Thank you.” You replied, an embarrassing blush covering your cheeks.
“Okay! So let’s go over some things…” Max said, flipping open his binder. 
Most of the meeting went smoothly, the producers listening intently to each writer's ideas for the upcoming season. You nodded and replied to questions, occasionally writing down notes here and there to store for a revision of your script. You were currently nose deep in your writing, scribbling down a few dialogue changes for a random scene you came across.
“Y/N, what about you?” Elsa asked suddenly, startling you into accidentally throwing your pencil behind you.
“Oh, um..” You set your script down, sitting up a little straighter, “Well I thought of a bit of a different approach for this season, it’s more character focused than scene directed.”
“Focused on what?”
“Well,” You cleared your throat, “I thought of dropping the whole love triangle idea, I never imagined Wednesday being interested in boys or girls while solving a murder, that didn’t make sense to me.”
You felt a sudden confidence with your words, the talk of your idea shredding away at your anxiety.
“To me, she should definitely be a lot more gruesomely funny. Bring some more gore, some more horror, some more dead things because that is what makes Wednesday so likable to the viewers. Get rid of all the boy talk and all that, I think she should be more toned to focusing on her stalker and whatever else comes with her junior year.”
“And get rid of the sappy lines.” You finished, shaking your head at the thought of some, “No offense Elsa.”
“None taken, I stay up every night hating myself for writing it.” She joked, causing everyone to laugh.
While she, Max, and one of  the other executive producers talked some more about which script to choose, you started to feel a gaze burrowing into the side of your skull. Turning to your right, your eyes caught big brown ones, full of curiosity and interest as they stared at you. 
It was Jenna, her focus on you instead of the others' conversation on the final decisions for the second season. You felt a little vulnerable under her stare, so you gave her a friendly smile and a little wave, a silent “hello!”.
She immediately smiled back, recuperating your wave with a beaming look. Her dimples appeared when she did that, catching your attention of how her nose seemed to scrunch up and how her eyes squinted in just the slightest way that made her look very cute. 
“Okay! I think that wraps up the meeting!” Max said enthusiastically, closing his binder and standing up, “Head home everyone!”
You sighed, happy to be done with work for the day. You began to gather your things, packing them into your bag and scooping your pile of notes and scripts into your arms. Matt came up beside you, handing you your pencil that you previously threw behind you.
“Don’t forget that.” He said, grinning.
“How could I?” You sneered, adjusting your bag on your back, “Are you going out with Megan again?”
He nodded, then pulled out his phone and showed that he was getting a phone call. He waved goodbye to you, heading out the door and down the hallway. You slowly followed suit, the weight of your backpack and papers making you a tad bit slower. As you walked towards the exit, a tap on your shoulder made you turn around.
It was Jenna, sporting a friendly smile.
“Hi!” She said enthusiastically, holding out a hand for you to shake, “I'm Jenna, I've been trying to meet you for some time now.”
“Oh wow!” You joked, somehow taking her hand without dropping your papers, “I’m Y/N, and I didn’t know you were waiting or I would’ve come and said hi.”
“I still like to introduce myself even if people know me, it’s how I was raised.” Jenna said, slightly rocking on her heels.
“How formal of you.” You said, grinning, “Did you just want to say hi orrrrr…”
“Oh! No, I wanted to ask if you had any plans for today…?” She asked shyly, a hopeful expression on her face. 
“Not that I know of, why?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me?”
You seemed to restart, your mind going blank at her words. Was she asking you to hang out? Jenna Ortega wants to hang out with you?
“Uh..I mean- well…” You started to stutter, a blush climbing up your neck, “Of fucking course!”
Jenna giggled, hiding her mouth while she laughed. You scratched the back of your neck, admiring her features yet again. She was incredibly gorgeous, and you didn’t even feel ashamed when you gazed at her moving lips.
“How does Panera sound?” 
You smiled wide, your eyes lighting up at the name of your favorite restaurant. Jenna laughed yet again at your reaction, covering her mouth with her hand.
“That sounds fucking amazing.” You said, shifting your weight on your feet.
“Great!” Jenna replied, adjusting the papers in her hands, her head turning back to you, “Does 3:30 work? I have another meeting in like 15 minutes.”
“That’s perfect.” You almost mumbled, your eyes on her lips again.
Jenna smirked.
You blushed at being caught.
“I’ll see you then, cute girl.”
And then she was gone.
As soon as she was out of sight and earshot, you squealed and danced in a circle, doing a little happy dance.
A lunch date, with Jenna fucking Ortega.
Couldn’t get any better than this.
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hi :)
taglist: @crystal-lily-101 @tundra1029 @house-of-lovin @rainbow-love4ever  @imhungry-andtired @theafterofnevermore @k1mba @simp4thena @thenextdawn @alexkolax @annalestern @efectoangel @fall-08 @andsoigotabutterfly @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @deep-fried-egg @frasersgf @thispussyshouldcomew @rollingsins @somekindofpoet
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holy-puckslibrary · 4 months
Text
━ 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑-𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑
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˗ˏˋ main masterlist ˎˊ˗
pairing(s) — counselor!JACK HUGHES x counselor!reader word count — 1.4k
note — i was (and still am) super proud of how i executed this concept, and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy re-reading it!
recommended viewing — friday the 13th (1980), fear street: 1978 (2021)
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bingo squares and additional content warnings below the cut.
bingo squares — sex in water, risky location/exhibitionism, and fear play additional content warnings — a few jokes about death/dying and murder, rather short n tame ("vanilla") barely-there spice from me???, jack being a little shithead (and a little switchy omg), a smidge of angst, and spoopy ending... (kevin heimbach hive rise!)
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“Y’know, for someone who is so paranoid about being caught, you sure scream like you aren’t.”
The lake smacks Jack Hughes’ chest just moments before the true expulsion of annoyance. The succinct burst of emotion is pre-packaged into a lame wave. One that only stokes his predisposition for button-pushing—hers being a personal favorite target of his.
“Y'know, for someone so desperate to get laid, you sure do everything to guarantee the only thing you'll be fucking is your hand."
Jack's jaw unhinges as if making ample room for whatever semi-clever perverted retort is bound to manifest, but it slams shut prematurely. His only response is a strained whimper accompanying an audible gulp.
Wide eyes bulging, his gaze never leaves the woody shore at your back.
"J-Jack, I'm serious. Cut it out. Right now."
Your blunt, conduct code-mandated nails slice their way through the sunburnt skin of his shoulders—the much-deserved consequence of brushing off the sunscreen you offered him prior to his afternoon shift at the canoes.
He hisses, mostly out of irritation, but keeps otherwise mum.
Unwittingly, further panic stirs in your gut at that, sending your tense face into his waiting chest.
"I-It's not funny—it never was. And it's absolutely not now, e-either. Please, Jack. Just, just knock it off, o-okay?"
"Or what, babe?"
His husky voice carries across the water and the trees rustle in response.
You loathe the way that innocuous noise shoves you deeper into his embrace, clutching onto his lithe, toned form like he isn't the instigator of your palpable distress.
"Stop pretending you see him, or I'll... I'll... —"
Any threat you could've come up with would've been hollow at best, you both know it. Even if you weren't strung out from a full day of covert teasing and stolen glances, your fear of what might lurk in the shadowy depths between you and the dock would be more than enough to keep you firmly planted.
Jack set himself up with yet another perfectly easy jump-scare, but as you helplessly cling to him like a soggy kitten at the mere implication of danger, he's presented with a better, more delicious opportunity to burrow under your thin skin.
Oh, how he lives to make you squirm.
Soft lips lower to your ear, "Is that really what you want? Because I don't think the lake's the only reason my dick is soaked."
"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Hughes."
You try and avoid his X-ray vision, but it doesn't matter. It hardly ever does.
"Really? Well, allow me to enlighten you, hm?"
His tone has you rolling your eyes even though he can't see them.
Jack holds you tighter, sharply bucking his hips until you whine, before he whispers, "I think you like when I scare you—or, at least, your pussy does. The poor thing, gushin' and squeezin' whenever you jump for me. Every damn time, babe. I damn near thought you'd squirted last time I got ya that good."
You grumble because he's right. Only about your physical reaction, of course. Definitely not the other things.
You definitely did not enjoy being scared shitless, and you definitely did not squirt when he pretended something—or someone—was pulling him under. You'd be damned if your first time doing that came at the hand of such juvenile flippancy.
"Quit talking and fuck me, Hughes. We don't have all night; Alice still isn't over the nightmares."
Every year, there was always one of those campers, and, this year, Alice was that one. A kid so freaked out by local legend that you have to wonder how their parent or guardian managed to get them up here in the first place. Or, why anyone thought sending them up into the mountains for the summer was a good idea to begin with.
It never takes long for the nightmares to start. Especially once the inaugural midnight bonfire passes and the sightings start making the rounds. Wind-carried screams, a flash of metal, the too-thick drip off of the leaves, torn flesh...
Everything in graphic detail, and every detail insomnia fodder at its peak.
If a camper lucked out, they had a counselor they could attach themselves to in the wee hours of the morning as they shook through waves of fear. Alice weaseled her way into your bunk every night this past week, bottom lip trembling as tears streamed down her face, always rambling about the same thing: a silent killer in a cheap mask wielding long, menacing blade.
Nightly, while you've donned a brave face, it's been as genuine as the plastic allegedly worn by the personified cautionary tale. Because, once upon a time, you had been that camper, too—and Jack had a front-row seat to your adolescent terror.
To this day, he finds your ardent belief in the legend a point of amusement.
He won't be laughing, though, when Alice finds your bunk empty and runs crying to the supervisor cabin, thinking you'd been the latest victim—the first in thirty years.
If you're going down, you're dragging jack hughes down with you. He can explain to your parents why you're home two months early—and unemployed.
His forehead falls to your shoulder, wafts of damp hair tickling the bare skin as he groans. Jack never bothers masking his ire. "That snot-nosed third grader is the last thing I want to think about when I'm balls-deep. Total boner-killer, babe."
"Jason Vorhees is the last thing I want to think about right now, but you never seem to care about that, do you?" you growl.
Your ankles tighten around his waist at just the thought of the camp's very own boogeyman.
If you were smart, you'd stop hooking up with the one person dead-set on sending you to an early grave all for a laugh.
The apparent inevitability of your trysts wasn't for a lack of options. No, every year there was plenty. But every year, Jack Hughes was the only peer you snuck out for.
After that many midnights, you would think his recycled material would lose its edge. Unfortunately for you, that's yet to happen.
You tug on a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck. He nips at your throat in retaliation; you don't have the confidence to tell him you like that, too.
"Fine, fine," he laments, eyes pinched shut and wincing. "Truce?"
"Truce," you nod and relinquish your tight grip. "Now, make me cum."
"Yes, ma'am."
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"See? I told you it was fine. No wandering campers, no prying Visors," Jack hums, an arm looped around your shoulders. "And no hockey masks or machetes, either."
Your soft, grudging giggle harmonizes with the cicadas.
When you reach your cabin, he pecks your damp temple. "You should trust me more often."
You knew once you caved to the lake idea, he'd never let it go, but you'd be remiss if you said it didn't turn you on just as much as it did him. That, however, doesn't mean you're eager for an encore any time soon.
Next summer, perhaps. If he played his cards right.
"Yeah, right," you snort while eclipsing the two meager steps with him on your heels.
His ego is beginning to rub you the wrong way as your post-orgasm bliss fades. Still, you can't resist pulling him closer now that no one else is around.
Kiss-swollen lips ghosting over his, you whisper, "Over my dead body."
His eyes go dark; a rare flicker of concern. "Don't say shit like that, babe, you'll jinx it... And i've still got so much planned for your body."
"Well, it's a good thing you've got an entire summer, isn't it?"
"Only because you won't let me touch you outside of Camp Nightwing," jack huffs, mostly under his breath. His jaw is too tight, but his voice is louder, "Just think of what i could do with the other nine months."
He doesn't bother disguising the bitterness weighing on his voice or his conscience, and that alone is enough to make you skittish. It hurts to swallow, and the mounting nausea certainly isn't helping, but it's a necessary evil to rid yourself of the lump clawing up your throat.
Jack Hughes talks a big game, but that's all it'll ever be. A game.
You won't make the same mistake twice.
"Get lost before you wake my campers, Hughes." You wave your hand dismissively as you take a step back—and out of his magnetic field. "We've got a big day tomorrow."
He drops the complaint as easily as he championed it.
"I'm going, I'm going." Jack raises his hands in surrender, laughing as he backs away from the porch. "Wouldn't want to rob the little boogers of their last moments of peace before my reigning Color War champs kick their asses—for the fifth consecutive year."
Your reluctant affection glimmers in the moonlight as you shake your head. "I hate you so much."
"No, you don't!" Jack calls over his towel-clad shoulder.
You're still smiling when the screen door smacks the dilapidated wooden frame.
As his jubilant footsteps fade down the path and you settle in your bunk, a large shadow slips between the moon and the cabin's front window.
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the-kr8tor · 8 months
Note
This is my first time doing this 👉👈 but can I please request a Hobie x reader fluff where reader and him went to the beach (probably using his boat lmao) and reader comes back all sun burnt. Sunburn + how much hobie likes physical touch cannot go well together I imagine lmao
Hi hun! Thank you for requesting ❤️ I love your prompt sm, it's so adorable 🥰 hope you like it!
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF.
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"Ow ow" you hiss out, waddling back inside Hobie's houseboat. He's been gone for a bit, answering a distress call from his two-way radio, taking a pause on your little beach vacation, you hope he's okay.
Taking Hobie's houseboat to the beach was a spontaneous decision. You briefly mentioned to him that you haven't been to the seaside in a while, missing the cool breeze and the salty water.
So here you are, burnt to an almost crisp, from your face to your legs. You fell asleep on a lawn chair, waiting for Hobie to come back from being Spider-Man. Oh man how you deeply regret shutting your eyes, you swear it was only for a few minutes. You lift your left arm checking the time, you wince when your watch grazes your tender skin, deciding to just take the watch off, you see that it left a mark on your wrist, a huge difference to the rest of your skin.
"Fucckk!! nooo!" You screech out, already dreading what your skin would feel like in a few days, especially when it sheds. You stop in front of Hobie's fridge, littered with various magnets, concert flyers and your little doodles. You open it, carefully avoiding the door from touching your skin, the cold air helps, you try not to grab an ice cube and place it on your warm skin, but you know it does more harm than good.
You wish you brought your trusty aloe vera cream with you, instead, you settle with hydrating from the inside, gulping down a bottle of water, little droplets falling on your chin down to your chest.
Hobie whistles out, he's as tall as the door, arms easily resting on the top, nonchalantly leaning on the doorway "should've came back earlier, if you told me you're gonna put on a little show" he hasn't noticed your inflamed skin with the lights shut off.
Hobie runs towards you, arms stretched In Front of him, eager to hug you. Your eyes widen, he bounds towards you, it's too late to stop him, his arms embrace around your tender form, leather vest scraping on your warm skin.
"Wait! Hobie! Ow!" You yell out, pushing him off with your palms. You instantly feel guilty from pushing him.
He immediately lets go, thinking he might've poked you with the spikes on his suit "shit, you alright?" No ounce of malice in his voice.
"I'm sorry" you say meekly, flailing your arms so that the slight breeze calms your angry skin.
He notices the pain in your voice and your weird flailing, "don't be, what's wrong?" Hobie asks, concerned.
You close your eyes briefly, the pain slowly subsiding, but a dull pain still throbs on your skin.
Hobie reaches out to you, but you quickly move away from his touch, he retracts his hand, sadness creeping in, is it him? What did he do now?
As if you can read his thoughts, you quickly put a stop to his thinking "I'm sunburnt, Hobie" you press the nearby light switch, showing your inflamed skin.
He sighs, relief flooding his senses "well shit, lovey, what happened?"
"I fell asleep while you were gone?" You say it like a kid waiting to be scolded, because you did exactly what he told you not to do while he was away.
Hobie puts his hands on his hip, oh you're definitely gonna get a talking to. "On the chair outside, I bet?"
"Mm-hmm" you nod, face apologetic.
"Even though I practically bathed you in sunscreen?"
"Yeah"
Hobie guffaws, he can't help it, with your face looking like you broke his precious guitar, and the fact that you still got sunburnt despite lathering you a few hours ago with a lot of sunscreen.
"It's not funny" you say dejected, wincing when your frown pulls at your skin.
Hobie breathes out, calming his laughter "Alright, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he reaches out again for a comforting hug like he's used to, but he brings back his arms when he remembers your aching skin.
He misses your touch already.
"You laughed at my misfortune" you pout, winching again when it tugs at your warm skin.
"Love, you're the cause for your own misfortune" He teases, mimicking your voice at the last word.
"But Hobie, it hurts" you try to tug at his heart strings. You stomp your foot, huffing out.
Hobie thinks you're so adorable right now, despite your little tantrum.
He chuckles, closing his smiling mouth immediately when you scowl at him.
Hobie closes the small distance, his hands hovering over your face, careful not to graze your sensitive skin.
"I'll take care of you, yeah?"
You look at him through your lashes, "you'll get my aloe vera cream from my flat for me?" Batting your eyelashes for extra effect.
"That and more" he wishes he could kiss you right now.
You notice him staring at your lips "I'll give you a hundred kisses when I'm better"
"Just a hundred?"
"A thousand and one then" you smile despite the pain.
"I'll take it" He can't wait for you to heal.
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Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️
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gtgbabie0 · 1 year
Note
Hiii I’ve been quite literally reading all your fanfics so far and I love them all so much!!! so I literally had to go ahead and make an ask lol :)
I don’t really know if you’ve done this yet but would you be willing to write about the reader and Leon’s first date together? You can make up the entire setting etc ! (this thought just had been rotting in my mind for sometime)
-Please take ur time and u don’t have to answer right away. Don’t rush yourself ! <3
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Picnics and cherry kisses
{you and Leon find a secluded place to have a picnic}
This is so very sweet! So sorry this took so long my lovely!! Hope you enjoy💕💕
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It’s a lovely day outside the wind was calm as it pushes through the trees, and you find serenity within the sounds of nature that surround you while you sit on a picnic blanket with an array of food before you.
You’re hidden between trees and the field is mostly barren of people as you soak in the sun, its pleasant warmth kissing your skin, and Leon can’t help but ogle at the way you practically glow under the sun’s light.
You’ve known each other for so long now, both secretly in love with each other constantly wanting for more, through lingering touches and longing gazes, and only recently did Leon decide to bite the bullet, finally asking you out on a date, and to be completely honest you didn’t expect him to be so, romantic.
“Did you put enough sunscreen on angel?” He asks looking down at where you’re laying, the back of his fingers graze against your soft warm cheek and you smile at the feeling.
You sit up slightly using your elbows for support and you look over at him, his hair tousled from the wind and his button-up shirt is undone at the top, god he’s so handsome, the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows showing off his forearms, does he realise what he does to you?
“Yeah, I brought some with me if you want some,” you tell him, nodding over to your handbag, “Don’t want you getting sunburnt” You giggle, fingers brushing his fringe out of his eyes and the nods in acknowledgement.
You notice the way the sun dusts against his face, as it peaks through the trees, and how the sun occasionally hits his eyes as they practically sparkle under the warm light, just like sapphires, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone so beautiful.
A pleasant gust of wind pushes through the trees, brushing against your skin, “Are you getting cold sweetheart?” He asks noticing the goosebumps that invade your skin as you shiver slightly.
“A little, but I’ll be alright” You watch as he reaches over to his cardigan, which he’d taken off earlier and he drapes it over your shoulders as you slip your arms through the sleeves, and his cologne surrounds your sense, “Thank you” you whisper, feeling a little bashful at his caringness.
“Of course, can’t having you getting I'll ruin my chances of a second date,” he says a playful smile splayed across his lips, and you giggle shaking your head as you reach over to the chocolate-covered cherries, you take one biting into the sweet treat.
Leon notices the chocolate that collects at the corner of your mouth, as you hum with delight at the taste, “You’ve umm— you got a little something there angel” he says motioning to your mouth, and you go to wipe it away, completely missing as he shakes his head, “Not it’s-“ he trails off watching as you make it worse, chocolate smudges against your lip to your chin.
He chuckles taking a napkin as he moves closer to you, wiping away the chocolate, and he’s so close, you can’t stop the way your stomach flutters with butterflies, and you watch as his eyes flicker down to your lips.
He takes a moment, “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” He asks, thumb and finger cupping your chin tilts your head to look up at him, and you lose yourself in his beautiful, kind eyes.
Your heart jumps with the question, sure you’ve kissed before once or twice, but this felt different, way more intimate, and it excites you a little.
You might’ve known Leon for a long time but this side of him was completely new to you, “Yeah I think that would be okay” you tell him, his big hand caressing the side of your face, and you practically melt into the feeling.
“Yeah?” He whispers as he leans in closer to you.
You nod your head whispering a barely audible ‘yeah’ and his lips finally press against yours, and it feels so natural as if it was meant to be and you can't stop the smile that adorns your lips.
“I can't kiss you if you keep smiling,” he says with a teasing chuckle, and your skin goes warm with embarrassment as you lay down on the picnic blanket, your hands covering your face as you let out a groan.
Leon rests his hands on either side of your face, leaning down as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth then another to your lips, and you ease into the feeling, and Leon hums at the taste of cherries lingers, as you thread your fingers through his hair urging him closer.
He pulls back slightly, admiring you with complete love-sick eyes, “I think I should drop you home before it gets late” he says noticing the late afternoon sun, he knows you have work tomorrow and he doesn’t want you to go to work tired.
You smile at him, hand reaching up to brush against his warm cheek, “Thank you” you whisper, and you can’t believe he’s real.
“What for? Taking you home?— you don’t have to thank me for that silly” he rambles as you shake your head sitting up.
His hand hold yours, “No- I mean for just being amazing” you giggle, “I’m excited for our second date” You smile at the way his eyes light up, and Leon looks at you as if he’s just won the lottery.
“Second date, Have I already wooed you” he teases, nudging you with his elbow.
“Mm, you’re getting there Kennedy” You giggle at his feigned offence, knowing full well he’d stolen your heart the moment you shared names.
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