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#or well you asked what kind and this is the easiest way to show it
alilarew23 · 4 months
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it is so easy to shift your state - let's practice!
ok beloveds.
it is tiiiiiiiime for a little exercise.
i want you to imagine real quick what it would be like to truly be a master at manifestation. yes i know we know we are all masters because we are always manifesting but! i mean a master at conscious manifestation. like, you ALWAYS get exactly what you want in the quickest and easiest way possible no matter what. you just imagine something, decide what you're going to experience next, and boom, it shows up. faster than fast. ayeeee, you did that.
ok, so now that you ARE that person, what's your experience like? what's your way of being within yourself, within the world? you're probably super fucking relaxed, even playful. you probably never worry about anything at all because what would there be to worry about when you know you always get what you want? you probably hardly expend any mental energy on your "desires" because the second you desire something you just--beep boop--claim it as yours and, well, now that's taken care of! you're probably the most present and loving person anyone has ever known. you probably have everyone around you not-so-jokingly asking you to manifest for them (iykyk). you probably feel like god. but not god who's desperately trying to assert some kind of control over a supposed-"outer" world. no. god who knows I AM the world. I AM all. how fun.
how fun indeed, that you just shifted your (drum roll please) state of being!
did that feel good? did you like being that person?
all that took place in your imagination.
you went from being an imaginal self who was maybe stressing about manifestation, watching too many tiktok vids and reading too many twitter threads, affirming affirming affirming but at what cost, to being an imaginal self who--in an instant--already had it all. and therefore could just kick it and watch a show or eat some tacos or go candlepin bowling (my new obsession) without stressing at all.
if that felt good, why not practice being that person? by which i mean consciously choosing to embody that identity until it's so natural that it no longer needs to be a conscious decision because you simply ARE it.
don't attach anything to this. just try the state on as if it's a new hoodie and see how it feels, and if you like it--you prob will, it's pretty snuggly in here!--well, keep wearing it.
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy
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synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help
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contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!
word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)
notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋
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he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.
he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 
what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.
“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”
“you’re late,” you spit.
“am i? i could have sworn—”
“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 
“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 
what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.
“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”
“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”
typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.
he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 
i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 
but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 
he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 
you hate him.
“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”
“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”
“what?” your eye twitches.
“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”
before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.
“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”
“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”
is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.
“you’re an asshole,” you spit.
“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 
“i saw you post on your story last night—”
“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”
“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”
“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”
“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.
“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.
“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”
“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”
“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”
“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.
—————
like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.
hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished
btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 
i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him
oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)
you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.
okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.
k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.
the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.
wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?
that’s ok i don’t judge
so how bout the party? 
i can be ur escort ;) 
it’ll be fun!
from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.
—————
gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 
frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.
he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 
it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 
why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 
gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 
“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 
why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.
“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.
gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.
“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.
“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”
“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”
“he has a name. it’s—”
“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”
“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?
“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”
“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.
okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.
he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”
“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”
“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”
“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”
“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”
“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”
“you mentioned it first!”
“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”
“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”
“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”
he is not lazy, he wants to argue.
but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 
—————
the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 
gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 
“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”
“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.
“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”
you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 
“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.
“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”
you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”
he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 
“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”
“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.
“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 
settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.
“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”
he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.
“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”
“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”
you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 
okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.
“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 
“what makes you say that?”
“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”
he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.
“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”
“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.
“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”
“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 
but not so bad. 
“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”
“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”
“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”
—————
“hey, satoru?”
“that’s not my name.”
“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.
“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 
you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.
“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.
“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”
“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”
“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”
“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”
finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.
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satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real
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Touch Tank
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 5.5k (look it wasn't supposed to be this many- my characters got away from me)
Warnings: sheesh, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, creampie, Loki is very soft and worshiping, unprotected sex (be safe) I think that's it idk this is kind of mild compared to some of my other stuff- could be waaaay more raunchy lmao
Genre: fluff, smut
Summary: Loki is not the easiest person to get close to, but you're not deterred by his standoffishness. He deserves a friend in the tower and you're determined to be at least that much.
He's so pretty when he goes down on me // he tells me he's gentle when he wants to be // I think he wants to be gentle with me ~ Touch Tank by Quinnie
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***
You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.
"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.
"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.
"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.
"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.
"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"
"Aw we're gonna miss you!"
"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.
"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"
"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.
"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.
"I see."
"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.
"What?" He scoffs.
"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.
"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.
"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.
"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.
"Do you want them now or at a later date?"
"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."
"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.
"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.
"Yes but only a little one."
"A little one?"
"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.
"Why?"
"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.
"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.
"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."
"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.
"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.
"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.
"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.
You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.
*~*~*
"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.
"What?" He rolls his eyes.
"Are you busy?" You ask.
"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.
"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"
"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.
"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.
"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"
"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.
"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.
"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.
"How short is short notice?"
"We need to be there in forty minutes."
"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.
"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.
"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.
"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"
"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.
"Ready Lo?" You ask.
"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.
"What?"
"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"
"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.
"And how is that going?"
"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.
"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.
"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.
"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.
"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.
"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?" 
"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"
"Sure." He nods.
"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.
"They have more open tanks of creatures?"
"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.
"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"
"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.
"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.
"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.
"You bribed me."
"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."
"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."
"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.
"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.
~*~*~
You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.
"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.
"It's 3pm y/n."
"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.
"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.
"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."
"You've been coming here a lot lately."
"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"
"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."
"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.
"Very funny." Loki scoffs.
"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.
"Must you be so-"
"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"
"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.
"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.
"Are you trying to get under my skin?"
"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."
"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.
"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."
"And why would you think that?"
"Because you always do."
"Do what?"
"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.
"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.
"Mother." He gets her attention.
"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."
"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.
"What troubles you my dear son?"
"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.
"A woman? Do you feel for her?"
"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.
"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"
"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.
"Have you considered that you feel for her?"
"How would I know?"
"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"
"She lives here so yes." He nods.
"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.
"What?"
"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."
"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."
"What do you mean?"
"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."
"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.
"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.
"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.
"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"
"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."
"What makes you think that?"
"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."
"I resent that notion." He scoffs.
"What made you contact me?"
"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.
"She was with you Loki?"
"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."
"What did she say?" Frigga asks.
"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."
"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"
"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.
"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"
"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."
"Tell me about her."
"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"
"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.
"Why are you smiling like that."
"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."
"My heart is very much still-"
"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."
"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.
"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."
"You keep saying that-"
"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."
"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.
"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.
"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.
"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."
"What if she is not waiting?"
"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."
"I do not get in my own way."
"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.
"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.
"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."
"Of course mother. Take care."
"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.
*~*~*
When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.
"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.
"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.
"You're sitting on the couch?"
"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.
"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."
"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.
"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.
"Would you like me to leave?"
"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."
"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."
"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.
"Of course not." You hum.
"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."
"Well don't let me bother you then."
"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."
"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.
"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."
"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.
~*~*~
"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.
"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.
"You know our coffee shop?"
"Around the block?"
"Yep!" She nods.
"What of it?"
"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."
"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.
"Cassie told me."
"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.
"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.
"I'm eating a sandwich-"
"Not right now, tomorrow morning."
"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.
"It's Elliot."
"Oh he's cute-"
"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.
"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.
"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.
"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.
"Hello." He mutters.
"What brings you out of hiding today?"
"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."
"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.
"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.
"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"
"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.
"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.
"No, I don't."
"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."
"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.
"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."
"You said I look constipated!"
"Well you do! But only a little bit!"
"This is not going at all how I planned it?"
"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.
"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."
"Easier to do what?"
"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.
"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."
"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.
"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.
"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.
"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.
"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.
"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."
"I am far from incapable." He says.
"So spill it." You push.
"And if I don't?"
"Then you're not who I thought you were."
"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.
"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"
"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.
"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.
"You." He whispers.
"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.
"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.
"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.
"If I'm lucky."
"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."
"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.
"No? It sounds like it."
"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"
"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."
"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.
"Is that what you want?"
"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.
"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."
"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."
"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.
"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.
"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.
"Yes was I not clear about-"
"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.
"You vex me." He breathes out.
"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."
"Don't boast."
"How can I not?" You ask.
"I can think of a few ways to stop you."
"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.
"How's that for sway?" He smirks.
"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.
"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.
"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.
"What do you mean?" He frowns.
"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.
"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"
"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"
"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.
"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."
"Precisely."
"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."
"Do you not like gentle?"
"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.
"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.
"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.
"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.
"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.
"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.
"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.
"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.
"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.
"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.
"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.
"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.
"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.
"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.
"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.
"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."
Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.
"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.
"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.
"Well what is?" You ask.
"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.
"How am I the tricky one here?"
"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."
"What fox? Are you the fox?"
"Mhm." He nods.
"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.
"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.
***
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alastorss · 2 months
Note
Hii I love your writing! Is it alright if you do headcanons for platonic Alastor x teen reader where we're his teen daughter? I feel like he'd be fun to gossip with- is it alright if you do some headcanons on what he'd be like if guys asked us out too?
a/n: hi hello sweetest! thank you for reading 🫶 please enjoy these headcanons!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
• Oh Alastor... he's absolutely a huge gossip. He knows everyone's business because he's always poking his nose around where it doesn't belong
• Also, he's got connections all over town so you best believe he knows everyone's business even outside the hotel
• I honestly don't think Alastor knows all that much about parenthood, only that it's now his responsibility how you turn out as an adult
• Passes down his mother's recipes to you so that if you two are separated when you get older, you'll always have a piece of him
• He's not good at expressing how much he cares about you so doing little things like that are the easiest way for him to get his point across
• Frets over you to make sure you're dressed properly, makes sure you're fed every day, and has endless stories to tell you about in case you get bored (would tell you about all the murders he did when he was alive and look so proud)
• Doesn't take you talking back to him well. Makes his problems with your attitude very vocal but never lays a hand on you
• (Upon further discussion with others, learns to just give you space when you're going through something)
• He wouldn't know if he'd want you to be just like your old man (evil, sadistic, insane) or if he wants to see you be redeemed and to shape you into that type of demon (kind, patient, sort of like Charlie)
• Would be so proud of you for killing other demons but then worry about your future if you end up staying in Hell
• Alastor is an overprotective dad. I know it, you know it, we all know it. There are few things he cares about in his afterlife, but you are close to the top if not the top of the list of his priorities
• Oh boy. Someone's flirting with you? They better be worthy of the Radio Demon's child otherwise they're in for a world of hurt
• Sulks and complains in his own roundabout ways when you bring guys home, bitching about them because he thinks they're nothing more than pests flocking around you
• If anyone breaks your heart... let's just say you're no stranger to hearing some familiar voices in your dad's broadcast
• Alastor scoffs at those who try to ask you out, having the balls to show up at the doorstep of the hotel. They're not worth any of your time but as long as you're not bothered by it, he'll allow it
• Still doesn't see the appeal in all this romance stuff. Is delighted when you just turn people down and acts so proud because you take after him
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc (send an ask to be added!)
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causenessus · 3 months
Text
Love Languages. | Bungou Stray Dogs
inc: dazai, chuuya, akutagawa, tecchou, jouno
written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)
song recc: do you love by trish toledo & baby bash
word count: 2324 words
pretty sure everything is written in lowercase except for names if they didn't look ugly capitalized bc aesthetics !!! had tons of fun writing this I apologize, this is barely proofread and for literally every character I got too caught up in specific examples and scenarios and just kept building off of it but I think they're kind of sweet so I hope u enjoy <3
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dazai osamu - acts of service
“she peels an orange for us in the morning / she woke me up to give me half” golden girl - frank ocean
he’s terrible at taking care of himself, so someone who takes the time to care for him just makes every wall crumble
he’s probably horrible at remembering to eat as well, so if you make something for him he’ll treasure it forever
bonus points if your job requires you to wake up earlier than him (which isn’t hard, he def comes in a little later than his coworkers) and you leave something for him to eat when he wakes up or to take with him to work (or both <3)
he’ll start to look forward to waking up in the mornings in hope that you’ve made him something
never asks you if you’ll make something in specific or if you’ll even make him something at all. he adores anything you make and doesn’t want to make you feel obliged to do something if you happen to be tired and don’t want to cook tomorrow
voices all his appreciation for you when you both have laid down to go to sleep
“bella, I can’t tell you how much it means to me, all that you do. you really don’t have to make me anything if it’s a hassle in the morning or when you get home. you already work so hard.”
you turned onto your other side to face him, pushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear as you smiled, “I do it because I want to, ‘Samu. and because I love you. if I can’t spend the day with you because we’re both at work, at least I can take care of you.”
his chest buzzed with so much happiness his eyes stung for a moment. he held himself back from saying that he didn’t deserve you. saying something like that wouldn’t solve anything. instead, he’d make himself worthy of you by helping out as well
he probably can’t cook very well but he finds other ways to help, washing the dishes, doing the laundry, getting groceries, and cleaning the place so that there’s less on your plate
ask him to do anything and he’ll get it done for you as soon as possible <3
I think that for him, receiving such sweet love without any words is foreign to him but is just what he needs. he’d rather show how much he loves you than say it (although he loves to tell you it as well). getting out of bed could be so difficult for him some days, yet having a goal for himself has motivated him to become a better person. he wakes up, excited for what you may have made him and ready to do whatever he can for you
nakahara chuuya - gift giving
“they asked, ‘do you love her to death?’ I said, ‘speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life.’” - mahmoud darwish
it’s easier for him to express how much you mean to him by giving you everything you want and everything he thinks you would like
he still tells you that he loves you every chance he gets, but oftentimes it is accompanied by a gift, no matter how small it may be, from just a single rose to a whole garden
for him, it gives a new purpose in his work; he’s working in order to get you whatever your pretty heart desires
he’s proud to use his hard-earned money to buy you things (rather than spending it all on wine <3 ily chuuya)
the easiest thing he can always get you is a favorite snack or drink and he’s got a whole system for it
he knows every store it’s available at and many of the clerks are familiar with him from the sheer amount of times he’s visited them to buy something for you. it never grows old for him, his favorite thing to do is buy you something on his way home from work or during the day when he’s planning to surprise you with a visit
he keeps a mental list of what your favorite things are. you’ll tell him about something you like without thinking anything of it but he’s already planned out when and how to give the item to you. it’s always on his mind what he’ll buy you each day, and it’s always worth it seeing you enjoy whatever he’s bought you
sometimes it’s as simple as a coffee and he’ll drop by your work to give it to you in person
“hanging in there, Angel? need a little pick-me-up?” he has the biggest smile on his face every time he sees you, and bringing a gift for you with him only adds to his excitement
“you spoil me, Chuuya,” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning further into him as he holds you in his arms.
“what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” he responds, rubbing your back as you sigh.
receiving gifts from you is just as sweet. no one has ever given him as many gifts as he’s given others–which is fine with him–it’s not about what he’ll get in return and he knows that not everyone expresses their love the way he does
but he’s touched whenever you get him something. since giving gifts is so meaningful to him, it means even more that someone would go through the trouble to give something back to him
he’ll keep whatever you get him close to him at all times and smile every time he sees it or remembers it
once, you bought him a new chain for his hat and he hasn’t changed it since. it only made the hat more special to him now that it reflects two people that had changed his life
akutagawa ryunosuke - words of affirmation
“my love, you are worth it all.”
we all know how the boy responded to dazai’s praise or even simply just the words “dazai wants to talk to you”
to hear a person who has persisted through his stubborn, aggressive defense say they still love him causes him to start to soften for you
he’s been surrounded by harsh words and people who have exploited him and brushed him to the side whenever he wasn’t needed all his life, so it stirs his heart to hear someone notice things about him and who tells him that they want to stay with him
it’s something reserved for solitary moments just between the two of you for sure, but that makes the time all the more special because he can let down his guard and just be with you
his past has made it hard for him to believe he is worthy of anything other than the murderous skills he’s harnessed in order to get him to where he is in the Mafia, but you’ve shown him that there’s more to him than just how well he can use Rashomon
he never bothers to try and listen to what other people are saying but he always gives his full attention to anything you have to say
he doesn’t even like to hear compliments from anyone else, he doesn’t trust them at all but he trusts and believes anything you tell him, knowing you have the purest intentions of loving and supporting him
after a job, all he wants to do is go home. by the end of the day, he’s sick of everyone around him so on the rare occasion that you decide to visit him, he won’t even notice until you call out to him
he had just finished a job, it was successful, but it had gotten messy. Mori had already told him off and he didn’t want to hear anything from anyone else. he stormed past every piece of vermin that had decided to get in his way, their whispers just barely reaching his ears
“Ryu!” you called out from amongst them, waiting by a door.
“What?” he hadn’t meant to snap, especially when he realized it was you talking to him and his face immediately relaxed when he saw you.
“oh, [y/n].” he immediately started to make his way towards you, the pounding in his head slowly starting to disappear the closer
“I came to pick you up, I’m glad I had good timing,” you smiled, offering your hand.
he took it gently, giving it a soft squeeze, “I’m sorry I responded so rudely, I didn’t–”
“you’re okay, Ryu,” you placed your other hand on top of it, looking him straight in the eyes, keeping a loving smile on your face, “you don’t ever have to be sorry. you’re doing just fine. even better, actually. I’m so proud of all your work and I’m sure you’re tired after everything today. it looked busy.”
the words erased every memory of Mori’s scolding that his head had latched on to in order to beat himself down later on. he felt his cheeks warm a little as he looked away, “you’re too kind to me, [y/n].”
tries his best to also put into words his appreciation but it’s so hard for him to verbally say it; sometimes it comes out wrong
instead, he’s opted for notes most of the time, leaving them on your bedside or in your bag, telling you how thankful he is for you and that he loves you
suehiro tecchou - quality time
“on the train we swapped seats, you wanted the window and I wanted to look at you.” - mahmoud darwish
my boy is always so busy
as soon as he’s off work he just wants to be wherever you’re at
he’d doesn’t mind silence and doesn’t care where he is as long as he’s with you
sometimes gets off work and if you’re not home yet just sneaks into your workplace to be around you
adores following you around and doesn’t always know exactly what you’re doing but he’s just happy to tag along
grocery store dates are some of his favorite moments with you
he loves everything about convenience stores
he loves food and the endless aisles of colorful packages and choices
(it gives him ideas for new food combinations <3)
once bought a himalayan salt shaker simply because
“look [y/n]! they make pink salt :0”
later put said pink salt on top of strawberry ice cream bc they were both pink
he also loves getting to look around the store all the while following you. he admires your organized grocery lists and how you’ve already planned out what you’re going to buy
once you tried to send him out to grab something in an area you’d already passed so that you could continue going down the list
“can you go grab some carrots for me, love? sorry, I forgot to pick them up when we were in the produce section.”
“of course 🙂” his heart is shattering inside of him at the thought of being separated from you.
“do you want to stay with me and we’ll go back later?” you ask, looking up at him with a knowing smile.
“yes pls”
groceries stores are not the only place you guys go tho i promise
if you’re still in school, he’ll accompany you on study dates 
never bothers you under any circumstances and if he is and you tell him he’ll stop right away
he could spend all day looking at your pretty face even if you never once looked at him <3
jouno saigiku - physical touch
“you kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry / the sun has come this close, only the sun” “GPS” - Shauan Barbosa
although he can’t see you, he knows your body by heart <3
he’s spent so much time tracing it over and over with his hands
i think his favorite thing to do, especially after a long day at work is flop onto you and just listen to your heartbeat. probably also intertwines one of his hands with yours, often runs other across your skin
loves when you touch him just as much
if he’s lying on top of you and you decide to run a hand through his hair, all of his problems have just melted away
you both have definitely fallen asleep like that countless times no matter what time of day it is
he’s always finding ways to be in close contact with you, making sure that you’re safe and near him
again, he loves loves loves to hold your hand, he’ll reach for it any chance he gets
will also settle for an arm around your shoulder though as long as you’re close to him
definitely the type to also rest his head on top of yours or on your shoulder every chance he gets
if he needs to fidget he won’t even play with his own fingers he’ll just play with yours
i think that with the loss of one sense, the other senses hold so much meaning for him
it’s easier and more meaningful for him to show his love and how much he trusts you through touch rather than just saying it out loud
comes up from behind you to hug you a lot, especially in the kitchen or when you’ve just come home he’s there immediately, hugging you to recharge
“how was your day, my love?”
you always relax in his arms, turning your head slightly to kiss his face which he’s let rest on your shoulder, “it was missing you.”
he placed a chaste kiss on your lips, “i’ll make it all up to you now, darling.”
there was one time that he let you do his hair
he’s never told you how much he enjoyed it; he didn’t even know what you had done to it, but being near your warmth is all he needs and can ask for <3
558 notes · View notes
togrowoldinv · 9 months
Text
Just Right
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You and Natasha have your first date. In an unexpected turn, she ends up bonding with your young daughter
Note: This is soft soft soft Nat. I’ve had this idea for a while. Enjoy it!
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
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When you first met Natasha, you had no idea that she would ever fall for you. It didn’t make sense. She is a world class assassin turned superhero and you’re a business woman.
But you immediately felt drawn to each other from the moment you locked eyes. There was an issue with Nat’s paycheck, and you were the woman to see about it.
The redhead waltzed into your office and left with her problem resolved and a new crush. Natasha then kept making excuses to see you.
Most of the time there was no issue at all, but she’d still come to your office. She wanted to see you. And you weren’t going to complain.
Finally, Natasha asked you out. It was the easiest yes of your life. But now standing at your closet, having no idea what to wear, you wonder if it was the right decision.
Natasha will be here in 15 minutes and you’re still in your bathrobe. Your saving grace comes in the form of your young daughter. The one you haven’t told Natasha about.
“You should wear this, Mom,” the little girl says. She points to a black dress that does frame your body well.
“You think so, sweetie?” You ask.
“Yes. You look so pretty in it!” She remarks.
You kiss her cheeks as a way to say thank you and take the dress out of your closet. Slipping it on, you glance in the mirror. It feels good.
The next fifteen minutes fly by and there’s a knock at your door. You walk through the foyer to open the door.
When you do, Natasha is standing on the other side. She wears a black tshirt and jeans with her signature leather jacket. A comfortable but attractive look on her.
“Hey y/n,” Natasha says. Her eyes rake over your body. “You’re so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you reply, a heat in your cheeks and neck. “So are you. I just need a moment if you want to come in.”
Natasha nods and enters your home. She loves the way it feels so cozy even just two steps inside. She’s waiting by the door when your daughter approaches her.
“Oh, hi there,” Natasha says, her brow raising in question. “What’s your name?”
“Hi, I’m Taylor,” the girls answers. “Are you here to see my mommy?”
“Yes I am. I’m Natasha.”
Nat holds out her hand for the girl to shake and she does so surprisingly well for a seven year old.
“I like your flowers,” Taylor says, pointing to the roses in Natasha’s hand.
She was going to give them to you when she walked in, but you disappeared too quickly.
“Here,” Nat says while handing Taylor the bouquet. “For you.”
“All of them?” Taylor gasps.
“Mhm,” Nat assures her.
“Wow! Thank you!” Taylor cheers. She takes off running towards your room where you meet her at the doorway. “Mommy look! Tasha gave me these!”
“Tasha did, hm?” You ask, glancing to Nat. She only shrugs and smiles at the nickname from the girl. “Did you say thank you?”
“I did,” Taylor says.
“Good job, baby,” you tell her. She preens at the compliment. “Be good tonight, okay?”
“Yes ma’am I will,” she replies.
The sitter arrives at the house right on time and Taylor pulls her inside quickly to show her the new toys she just got. Natasha leads you out to her car.
“So, you have a daughter,” she says.
“I do. Is that a deal breaker?” You ask.
“Absolutely not. She’s cute,” Natasha says. “Plus, I kind of gathered from the photos of the little girl in your office.”
“You knew?”
“I know most things,” Natasha says, grinning from the driver’s seat.
You shake your head and get lost in the feeling of being on a date again. She parks the car outside of the restaurant.
“I hope you came hungry,” she says. “This is one of my favorite places.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” you say. “But I’m excited to try it.”
You walk into the restaurant with Natasha. Her hand hovers over your back as she leads you inside and to a table. There’s a card that says reserved. You look to Natasha.
“I told them I was bringing a date,” she chuckles. “I guess they took it seriously.”
You smile and slide into one side of the booth while Nat sits in the other. She takes off her jacket to reveal her muscular arms. The black t-shirt hugs her biceps perfectly. You watch as she intently reads the menu and you try to think of something to say. But the silence doesn’t feel uncomfortable.
“What do you recommend, Natasha?” You ask her.
Her eyes look up from the menu to meet yours. She tells you about all the different foods she likes here. You find it all a bit funny that a superhero knows so much about a local restaurant’s burgers, but it makes you fall harder for Natasha.
The conversation flows easily from there. You tell her about your life and she tells you about hers. You’re sure she leaves out some of the less than happy details.
It’s about an hour into the date when your phone rings. It’s the sitter.
“I’m sorry. I need to answer this,” you excuse yourself as you walk outside while answering the phone.
While you’re gone, the waiter asks Natasha if it’s going well. She smiles and gives him a thumbs up.
You come back inside with a frown on your face. Nat stands up in reaction.
“What’s wrong?” She asks.
“The sitter has to leave, so I have to leave. I’m so sorry, Natasha.”
“Hey, that’s okay,” she says. She places a comforting hand on your arm before turning to the waiter. “Put this on my tab?”
“Can do! Have a good one!” They say.
“Thank you. Let’s go,” Nat says. She grabs her jacket and leads you back to her car.
When she gets in the driver’s seat, she holds the jacket in her lap kind of awkwardly as she drives.
“Do you want me to hold it?” You ask her.
“Oh, that’s okay. I was going to put in the back but then I just didn’t for the sake of time,” she says, with a cute look on her face.
“I’ll hold it,” you say this time. Not a question. She lets you take it from her lap while she continues to drive.
You hold it against your lap. And it’s oddly warm. A lot like just being around Natasha feels like.
She pulls into your driveway and comes to open your door for you. You notice she doesn’t ever miss a chance to do that. You don’t have time to linger at your door, so you turn the key and relieve the baby sitter.
She says her apologies before she leaves and tells you that Taylor is asleep in her bed. That won’t last, you think.
During all of this, Natasha stands just inside the door.
“Come further in, Natasha,” you say, gesturing towards the living room.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. I- um- I was having a good time, so maybe we could keep this date going?” You ask, taking a chance.
“I’d love that,” Natasha replies. You breathe a sigh of relief.
Natasha makes herself comfortable on the couch where she’s noted you set her jacket down while you go to the kitchen. You emerge a few minutes later.
“Well, it seems I have no wine, but I do have juice boxes,” you say. You hold them up and grin.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking from a juice box,” Natasha says.
“Really? Oh Natasha, this is about to change your life,” you say dramatically.
You sit next to her and show her how to put the straw in the box. She does successfully and tastes the sweet, way too sugary drink for the first time.
“So, what do you think?” You ask.
“I like it,” she says. “It’s weirdly fun to drink out of the straw.”
You’re about to reply when you hear the sound of little feet.
“Taylor, baby?” You call into the hallway.
“Mommy?” She asks confusedly in her sleepy haze.
You open your arms and she walks to your embrace easily, planting herself on your lap. She buries her face in your chest.
“Did we wake you up?” You ask her. She shakes her head against you.
Natasha graciously takes the juice box from you so that you can hold Taylor with both hands.
“Okay. Let’s go back to bed,” you say, standing up with her in your arms.
“Wait,” Taylor mumbles. She reaches an arm out towards the couch. “With Tasha.”
“Baby, it’s Ms. Natasha or Ms. Tasha at the least,” you correct her manners. You let it slide earlier, but you want Natasha to stick around.
“Tasha is just fine,” Natasha joins in the conversation.
“Okay,” you agree. “Come on ladies.”
Natasha follows as you take Taylor back to her bedroom. The room is covered in fun, pink decorations. It makes Nat smile to see a little girl able to be so safe and happy.
“Goodnight sweetheart,” you say, kissing Taylor on the head.
“Goodnight mommy,” she says. “Tasha, can I talk to you?”
“Oh,” you remark. “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” Nat says. “If it’s okay with you?”
You nod and step back to the doorway. It’s far enough to give her space with the girl, but close enough to hear what they say.
“Are you going to come here a lot?” Taylor asks.
“Oh, I’m not sure. I would like to I think,” Natasha replies. She sits on the bed next to Taylor. “What do you think about that?”
“Will you bring me more flowers?” A hopeful smile rests on her face.
“Yes, I will. What’s your favorite flower?”
“I don’t know,” she says.
“That’s okay,” Nat assures her. “Is pink your favorite color?”
“Yes ma’am,” Taylor replies. “How did you know?”
“It was a wild guess,” Natasha jokes. It goes over the little girl’s head but you appreciate her awareness of her surroundings. “I just might bring you pink flowers next time I see you, okay?”
“Pink flowers! Yay!” Taylor cheers. Her eyes droop closed as she fights sleep.
“Goodnight, malyshka. It was nice to meet you,” Natasha says.
“Night Tasha,” she mumbles.
Nat stands up from the bed and you take her hand as you walk back to the living room.
“Was that okay? I don’t want to overstep but I definitely want to see you again and-“
You cut her off by hugging her tight. Your arms are around her neck and she places hers around your waist.
“Thank you,” you say. She holds you for as long as you need. And it’s definitely a long time. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she says. “Thank you for tonight. I had a really great time.”
“Even with the interruption?”
“Especially with the interruption. Who else is going to ask me to bring them flowers all the time?” Natasha jokes. “She’s great.”
“She’s the best,” you say, a laugh falling from your lips.
“I should probably go,” Natasha wonders aloud.
“Yeah,” you agree. “But before you do maybe you can finish your juice box?”
You’re reaching for ways to spend more time with her, but she doesn’t complain. She sits next to you on the couch again and drinks some more of her juice.
“You know I bet the guys would want to see proof of my first juice box drink,” Natasha says. “Would you want to take a picture?”
“Absolutely,” you agree.
You get your phone out and point it at her, but she takes it from your hands.
“I meant of us,” Natasha says. You were hoping that was the case.
You hold up the juice box and smile while Natasha does the same. You immediately text it to her. Admittedly, it’s a cute photo. You see her save it as your contact photo in her phone.
“It’s late,” you note.
“It is,” Natasha says. She stands from the couch as you stand with her. There’s a silence as she steps closer to you. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes please,” you say.
Natasha’s smile reaches up to her eyes as she takes your face in her hands and kisses your lips. It’s a soft, slow kiss. And it’s absolutely perfect.
“I’ll call you?” She asks.
“And text me too,” you reply.
She nods and you walk her to the door. She kisses your lips once more before she steps out onto the porch.
“Hey, you forgot your jacket,” you call after her.
“Keep it,” Nat says. “I’ll get it next time.”
You grin and watch as she gets in her car and drives off.
From that day on, Natasha never forgets to bring Taylor pink flowers. Even when she runs out of types she can get, she has Tony make her new variants.
And everything with Natasha is just right.
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rene-darling · 11 months
Text
HOW- easy it is
How easy is it to bed each version on him? Also afab wanderer the rest are pretty neutral
Kubukimono...scaramouche...wanderer
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Kubukimono
Oh sweet and innocent kubukimono who'll do anything you ask of him! Definitely the most easiest to bed!
Delicate kubukimono who discovers this...interesting feeling when your hand gently brushes against his thighs..
He's not sure what it is but one night he finds himself rubbing his thighs together and that feeling comes back,
A soft gasp escapes him when he feels it...for the rest of the night he tries again and again until his legs grow weak but he just can't make himself cum!
He feels exhausted and tired soft globs of tears run down his face as he just can't savour the feeling as soon as it gets intense he stops!, involuntarily sometimes!
He can't help it it's too overwhelming! And a little scary..
He knows that this is his private part so he shouldn't show it to anyone! That's why he doesn't ask you for help...though he doesn't need to ask since he's being so loud one day you just walk into the room to see him rutting against his pillow whining softly..
"y..-y/n? Hic...c-can you help m-..me..?" he's mumbling and crying softly as you pull him into your arms he softly crawls over stumbling a bit he kisses you and his back arches he mutters under his breath
And when you finally strip him of his clothes only his thin wail on his head he gasps softly h-he shouldn't be naked in front of you!! Right? "n-noo..m..my clothes,"
You chuckle softly "how I'm I to satisfy your desires if your wearing clothes, hm..?" your voice gently as to not scare him off
"i-...well, um-" cutting himself off with a loud moan when you lick up his squelching hole. His back arched so prettily as he bit his lips,
10/10 very easy to bed!
Scaramouche
He's very reserved, rightfully so, he's scared, which causes him to be mean to you as a defense mechanism so you can't betray him or bring him any harm
He jolts everytime your skin makes contact with him, it could be as simple as your hand brushing against his thigh but oh archons will he give you a long lecture about decency while blushing furiously
Very very very hard on himself that includes his physical experience, like- what if ei got rid of him because of what he looked like? He looked ugly and weak what if what jf
They never leave his mind. And aside from his insecurities he's very stuck up and prideful he does not want to give into his desires and especially not be underneath someone!
He is definitely going to try and come over you, but even if your kind enough to let him, he freezes up not knowing what to do next!
He's so embarrassed!! He makes so many demands! Like how he doesn't want to take off his clothes and you should find someway to do it with his clothes on
When you question him he just stubbornly replies "i- I don't know!! Jus- find a way!!" after a while the best way you can think off his fucking him with a skirt on him so you can't see
He makes you promise you won't look! You agree at first but when he's too fucked dumb to realise you just throw the skirt somewhere else and continue!
though of course after just a few rounds the skirt was already rolled up to his stomach
2/10 very hard to fuck but rewarding if you put in the effort!
Wanderer
Easy but at the same time hard, he's a mix of kubukimono and scaramouche leaning more towards scaramouche
You have to guide him into it if your too straight forward he just wont. Soft touches gentle whispers and some compassion is all you need to have him crying and moaning on his back
He likes degrading but mixed with sweet words if he thinks your too mean he'll start sobbing!! He likes pretty words like "you like that, darlin slut, you like having fingers pumped into your soaking cunt"
Pretty words to talk him into leaving his studies in the akademia and coming to 'study' with you instead!
He doesn't need much convincing like scaramoochie but he's also not as ready to spread his legs to the sight of you like kubukimono...
He's a easily embarrassed person! Take you fingers out and if he sees them coated in his juices he's stuffing his face into the nearest pillow and yelling "get away! your fucking nasty-"
Seems you haven't fucked him dumb enough and he's still spewing garbage.
Hate hates hates quickies, he's a very demanding little brat and insists on being worshipped! They also make him feel unloved like are you just with him for his body???
Poor darling wants your love he wants it slow and gentle but he's to pride to admit that so he gets annoyed if you go slow like what do you pity him???
He's too self deprived and also loves saying bad stuff about himself. Though it's all psychological cuz he's dripping wet and so easy to get into.
5/10 cuz he's too easy but not too hard. but again he loves throwing puzzles at you instead of just telling you what he wants and how he wants it
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reverieblondie · 5 months
Text
Be Sweet to Me
Chapter 1
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader
Warnings: None for this chapter, but there will be eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. For now- Fluff and Miguel struggles with grumpiness and realizing his touched started, but he's just over worked. Alternating POVs
Summary: People say many things about you're co-worker, and sure he's not the most social but you won't give up being friends with him! Little do you know Miguel is juggling so much in his life, and getting used to you is proving to be more difficult than he thought.
A/N: I am so excited to be finally be making this series! The Alternating pov's is different than what I normal do, but I think it works best for this story! This is heavily influenced by the song Be Sweet by Japanese Breakfast. Unsure how many chapters this will be, so look out for updates! if you would like to be tagged please comment to let me know!
Word count: 3,447
Part 2
“Y/n, I need you to organize the samples and make sure that all the documents are in order before the meeting.” 
Giving a slight huff you stop your work, turning on your heels to face your coworker.
“Okay, but what's the magic word?” you playfully tease with the slightest hint of condensation. 
Turning his head you see the unenthused glare in his eyes despite them being shaded behind the round tinted glass. You're still not fully convinced he needs those things inside, some kind of light sensitivity he's explained once but you suspect he might just like the cool guy aesthetic it gives him. Though you wouldn’t blame him if that was truly the case, it does look kinda cool. 
Face scrunched in that way you have gotten used to seeing over these past few months since working here at Alchemax. Chiseled jaw clenched shut, his full lips pressed in that iconic frown, thick brown hair styled back to try and tame the unruly waves, and tall bulky figure that you used to be intimidated by, (okay, sometimes you still are) but you have slowly adjusted to your co-worker: Miguel O’Hara. 
He stared at you for a beat before turning back to his work without another word, his oh-so-subtle way of telling you to shut it and do as you're told. “Alright alright, I’ll get it done. Don’t have to tell me twice.” 
One thing you have learned about working with Miguel is he may not always speak with words so if you want to create an effective work area with him you have got to be good at reading his expressions. Working with a guy like Miguel had its challenges, for one his mood: he's not exactly the easiest to get along with, and people call him cold or cocky depending on the day.  
Then there was how busy he kept himself, always working on something, typing on screens, working with experiments, or tapping away at that clunky watch of his. Even on the days he’s not around due to him ‘working from home’ you can tell just by his face that he hadn’t given himself time to rest. What on earth could keep a man so busy? Well…you had an idea or two… 
Despite his grumpy demeanor you were determined to become friends with Miguel. It didn’t matter what others would tell you about him or how much he distanced himself, you saw the subtle glances, the repressing of smiles, the slight cracks in the shell, You two would become buddies you were sure of it. Maybe he just needed someone to show him the effort, to be sweet to him, then maybe he could lighten up and bring his walls down.  
Pulling out all the stops nothing was going to stop your attempts, you were always nice (even on days where that was particularly hard) Helping with things he didn’t ask of you, organizing and cleaning up behind him. Coffee was always a winner, you knew exactly how he liked it too, you kept making different attempts then stopped on the one where he wasn’t making a face while he took his first sip. -Success! 
Then there was the friendly encouragement, pats on the shoulder, and high fives. Sure he seemed hesitant to them at first but he slowly became used to them, baby steps. 
Every passing day was closer and closer to your friendship blossoming!
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Magic word…was she serious? Why should he say please? It's her job to listen to what he tells her and do what he says considering he’s worked here longer. Miguel keeps typing away at his computer, lamenting in his mind how his co-worker was quite the character. 
Miguel couldn’t deny that having a co-worker who was tasked to help him in all his research did help him out more than he would ever admit. Having to juggle the secret identity of Spider-Man, being the leader of the spider society protecting the multiverse, and having to keep his role as head geneticist in Alchemax. Everything could get taxing very quickly on him. Layla was a great AI assistant but she was limited, so having an actual person tagging along to help him with work was bearable, though…you were a bit exuberant and that was taking some getting used to. 
The jokes, the odd habits, your clumsiness, the smart remarks you mumbled under your breath, your overwhelming friendliness. All this he could begrudgingly handle, but the thing that was still overwhelming him was the touching! Sometimes it wasn’t even touching at all you would just be so close.
First noticing it when you would stand so close that he would accidentally bump into you, if he was looking at a sample you were leaning over him to watch. You had no spatial awareness, running into him, running into things! The first month of you working here you broke so many things by running into them he thought they would run out of beakers.
Then the friendly gestures started happening. Miguel was used to people keeping their distance, meeting his gruffness, but you…oh no…you must have seen it has some challenge! The encouraging words, patting of his shoulder, spontaneous high fives, squeezing past him in tight areas, adjusting his coat for him, dusting off crumbs from his chest! Your Friendly proximity made him tense, it was…new and different, and he didn’t know how to handle it.
Though it could be worse, you could be a completely useless idiot. To Miguel’s surprise you did have a brain in that head of yours, so the trade-off for actual decent help was some playfulness from you he would just deal. It’s not like he wasn’t used to playful coworkers, the spider society made sure of that. Still, you were different…and that blossoming tingling your touch would leave on him…it was…annoying.  
Miguel's eyes move over to you as he watches you begin the task of organizing the samples and getting everything prepared for the meeting. Begrudgingly he was tasked with having to explain the recent studies and developments the two of you had made. The meeting was honestly bullshit, he hated having to report to the chairman, but they liked to keep a thumb on Miguel, making sure he was still their best brain. In fact, you had offered to take over and run over the presentation for Miguel but they denied that, had to be him…bastards 
For a moment you turn your head and look towards Miguel meeting his eyes, you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, that friendliness still shining through. With an annoyed huff, he turns away getting back to his work. Still adjusting…
The two of you worked diligently for a couple of hours, in silence of course, there was no time to get distracted with chatting when so much needed to be done. Rubbing his hands over his face he could feel a wave of extortion taking over him. Sleep was something he wasn’t getting regularly, there was just never enough time in the day so sacrifices must be made. 
Eyes growing heavy and vision slightly blurring he feels himself slipping, but he can’t, he won't. Then a shrill alarm begins to blare from Miguel's wrist snapping him back awake. Miguel is quick to place his hand over his watch and sneak out of the lab unnoticed, lucky for him you were too concentrated on your work to notice his absence. Checking the message on his watch, it is a local emergency, something he can handle in fifteen minutes tops. With a quick few cracks of his neck, he's leaving to save the city again. 
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Stretching feeling accomplished in yourself getting everything prepped single-handedly. Roaming your eyes around the lab you note the lack of bulk in the room. Huh, no Miguel? He must have done one of his disappearing acts again, probably just going to lunch without you. Invite yourself to lunch with him one time and now he doesn't even tell you when he's going. Matters on that guy, oh well, you might as well go get something before the meeting anyway. Coming to a stopping point you gather your things for a nice quick bite in the cafeteria. 
“I can’t see how you can work with him.” Ah, so much for a nice quick bite…
Sitting there trying to enjoy your lunch it’s the usual suspects who come to sit next to you, talking more at you and around you rather than to you. You can’t help but think that this annoying tinge you feel is what Miguel felt when he was ambushed by you. Though you couldn’t have been as annoying as these people. Complainy and gossipy types are not the best combos with your meal. 
Their subjects range from many topics like complaining about work, to failed experiments, personal problems, idol gossip, then it lands to the one directly aimed at you…Miguel. As soon as the question is asked you're looking up from your food to see all eyes on you. Chewing quickly and swallowing to ask your question. 
“I’m sorry what?” 
Sophia groans, “O’Hara, how can you work with him?” 
“Uh, well he does his thing, I do mine?” 
Julius chimes in “Isn’t he a total dick to you though?”
Cassidy is now giving her input to the topic, “Oh I can only imagine what you go through on the daily.” 
“Well ac-” trying to interject, you can’t even get a word in till you're being cut off by one of them.
“Yeah! Like I bet he is always bossing you around.”
“And probably insulting you in some way,” 
“One time he called my team brainless idiots because we messed up one small thing” -it was not a small thing, that took you and him an all-nighter to fix…
“That was-” you try again only to be cut off once more.
“Oh, and he is always being rude!” 
“God, how can you work with that monster!” 
With that last comment you had it, the noise wasn’t meant to be as forceful as it came out but they kept cutting you off and then bad-talking your research partner, you were fed up. Slamming your hands on the table with a hash slap, effectively silencing them, you rise from your seat grabbing your tray in the process. 
“If you have issues with him you should speak to him like he’s a person. He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance... I've lost my appetite, excuse me…” 
With that, your lunch break was over. 
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“Spider-Man!” 
“You saved us!” 
“He’s a hero!”
“But…he’s kinda a jerk…”
“Didn’t he punch an old lady before?”
“I thought she punched him?” 
Uhhgg…would anyone ever get that story right? Miguel is prying the last bus hostage off him as they cling tightly to him. The vulture from his dimension was up to his usual antics but he made quick work of him and was now cleaning up the shocking mess. Having to save the people from the bus was no big deal, it was the pushy reporters, camera lights flickering in his face and the clingy person keeping themselves pressed to him that was the pain to deal with. Taking deep breaths he’s trying to keep his cool, but he can feel himself threatening to boil over. 
How come he can’t just ever save people and leave? Why was there always this extra crap to deal with? Finally getting the person off and seeing that all of what he could do was done he's trying to get out of there, but people can be so pushy…
Questions, Comments, Flashing lights, Praise, Criticism…he couldn’t help but snap, 
“Get out of my way! Leave me alone! And for shock's sake, try to learn to protect yourselves!”  
The crowd was shocked by this sudden outburst, but this should have come as no surprise from the grouchy hero. Spider-Mans in other dimensions were always known for being friendly, witty, funny, and nice to all they saved, Miguel didn’t exactly follow this blueprint. Miguel didn’t exactly mean to sound rude, just being a hero gets exhausting and patience was something he needed to work on. 
Miguel hears the gasp and murmurs amongst themselves about how he’s a dick, a jerk, arrogant, blah, blah…
Rolling his eyes, hidden underneath his mask he couldn't help but think of how irrational these people could be, say one thing the public wasn’t fond of and they are at your throat. It’s all of a sudden no longer how he just saved a busload of people, or saved the city by defeating a villain; No, now it’s about how rude he was. 
“Jerk!” 
“Boo!” 
“I hate you Spider-man!” -great…this just makes everything so much better with this thankless job. 
Swing off before the police come to further irritate him. As he swings back to Alchemax he’s wrapped up in his thoughts. This hero thing was not easy…everything he did wasn’t right, not what people wanted…he was always messing up in some way…nothing was ever good enough, he had to stretch himself thinner and thinner, keeping everything together. The pressure is immense…
Getting back to Alchemax, he changes and tries to resume back to his work, the fight had successfully woken him up but now he’s starving. Eating like sleep has also become a thing he has had to cut for the sake of time, but something quick should be fine before he gets back to work.
Stopping by the cafeteria Miguel immediately spots you sat by Sophia, Julius, and Cassidy, not good company for you to keep. Well honestly anyone, they might catch their stupid. Making sure to be as unnoticed as possible last thing he needs is you trying to wave him over to your table. Coffee with a bagel is all he needs to grab so he can make his escape back to the lab. Grabbing a coffee that thankfully wasn't made by you, his sensitive ears can’t help but catch what's being said at your table. No surprise it’s about him. 
Listening in he is catching fragments of the conversation sipping his coffee trying his best to ignore the meaningless conversation, till a remark of him makes him pause at the threshold of the entryway. 
 “How can you work with that monster!”
Monster…huh…is that how people see him? Mutated, sure, grouchy, and tempestuous maybe, But a monster. A ping in his chest makes his hands tighten around the cup. Talons threatens to poke through but he resists. If they want to see him as a monster then so be it…he doesn't care…
Suddenly, a slam, followed by your familiar voice catches him by surprise,
“He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance”
“Not some monster…” Your words can’t be helped from echoing through his head. You sound so angry, you never sound angry. Looking over he sees your face furrowed in a glare. He didn’t think your face knew how to do that. Watching as you walk away in a haste away from the table he's leaving to his usual eating spot hidden away from others. 
Taking his shades off in the empty break room he dims the lights down as he sinks into one of the chairs. Finally getting even a moment of a break, even taking time to peacefully relax he finds he is unable to. Even sitting leaning back he still feels teased, irritated, stressed. Trying to shut his mind for even a moment, a second of a break he finds it to be an impossible task. But as he sits, his usual stresses fade to be replaced by your words. Miguel could have cared less about what those idiots had to say about him. The surprising thing was that you were defending him…not that he needed it… but it was…kind of you…
Taking a bite out of the bland bagel he groans to himself, annoyed. 
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It's almost time for the meeting and you're pacing outside the doors with everything ready to go, except you haven’t seen Miguel anywhere. Running behind is a thing you are not used to from him, he’s usually so timely but you haven’t seen him at all since he left for what you thought was lunch. Did he get caught up doing something else?
 Minutes tick by and you're growing more anxious by the second. Would he just not show up? It’s a possibility, but he would be putting both your asses on the line, though he didn’t have to worry much about that, they wouldn’t fire their best brain, but…you're a bit more expendable.
Before you can continue thinking about your ass being on the chopping block Miguel is rounding the corner adjusting his coat and walking in a casual strut. Looking at him as he approaches you notice his appearance looks a bit different. That shirt does seem a bit wrinkled and his tie is completely messed up from earlier. What has he been doing? Mid-day workout? Did he have an accident in the lab and have to go change? But the clothes are the same, just wrinkled.
Or was he doing something else… Thinking for a moment over what you could be doing that would cause messed up clothes an image of a sweaty grunting Miguel pops into your brain. Pushing down the thought with an internal slap to yourself you decide to greet him as friendly as possible. 
“You're running behind Miguel” -okay you can’t help but tease him a bit. Friends rass each other all the time. 
“Yeah, got…caught up in something…” he speaks hesitantly, suspicious…
Miguel gets ready to go inside but you quickly grab him by the shoulder to get his attention “Hold on there, you can’t go in there looking like that” 
Turning to face you, he looks at you confused then looks down at himself, “What? I look fine.” 
Scoffing, you roll your eyes and point to his chest where his tie is haphazardly knotted together in a rushed fashion.
“Your tie” Before he can protest your hands are already getting to work losing his tie gently, “Let me help you” 
With the silk tie undone hanging down his chest, you're moving your hands to raise his collar. As you concentrate on the task your eyes are fixed on his neck you observe that as your fingers slightly brush over his warm skin his body teases slightly. Straightening his neck, you know he’s about to say something.  
“Why are you nice to me? I know what others say about me, so how come? Are you trying to pity me?” His voice is stern and this isn’t what you were expecting out of him right now. Did he hear you earlier? 
The slight laugh that escapes you couldn’t be helped. Moving your hands you cross the two ends to tie in a classic Windsor knot. “Leave it to you to think someone being nice to you is just a ruse to pity you. I just want to be nice to you.” 
Remaining silent you continue to loop and twist the tie, your knuckles blushing over him, you swear you see his skin pickle up for a moment with a slight shiver. Finishing up, you tighten it to his neck and carefully fold his collar back down, keeping your eyes on your work at hand, you watch as his Adam's apple slightly bobs as you adjust it properly. 
Sliding your hands to the silk tie you brush your fingers down the soft fabric straightening it while laying down flat against his chest. The feeling of his chest tightness under your fingertips and his breath seems to be slightly slow, you don’t know if he is hating this or being relaxed by it. 
Meeting his eyes, they are unshaded for you to observe their burgundy hue. His face is still stern looking but you know this one has that slight softness in his eyes, meaning his listening, he is waiting for you to speak again. 
“I want us to be friends, simple” 
Miguel's lips slightly part as if he was about to speak, but before he could the conference room doors opened with them calling Miguel in. Turning to you there is a look on his face you're not completely used to, but that will have to wait for now. Giving a quick pat to his chest you smile up at him. 
“You got this Miguel, good luck.” 
472 notes · View notes
colleendoran · 1 year
Text
Misunderstanding
I received a note from someone who was upset I “failed to cite Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics” in my research for my work on Neil Gaiman's Chivalry and the essays I wrote about it. 
I really appreciate that people want to make sure credit goes where it's due, and I have a lot of respect for Scott McCloud's accomplishment with his wonderful book.  
I haven't read it myself in some years, and didn't cite it in my articles because I didn't reference it. I don't even know where my copy is so I don't know what McCloud referenced, either. 
The information in my articles re: illuminated manuscripts and the Bayeux Tapestry, as well as other theories about the development of sequential art from prehistory, not only predate McCloud's work (and in fact, predate McCloud's birth,) but they are so common and so well known in comics circles that asking me to cite them seems as weird to me as asking me to cite the information that George Washington was the first President of the United States.
A part of me wonders if someone is trying to play, "Let's you and him fight." 
No.
But I’m happy to bring to your attention some reading material.
Stephen Becker in his 1959 work Comic Art in America: A Social History of the Funnies, the Political Cartoons, Magazine Humor, Sporting Cartoons, and Animated Cartoons was among the first to discuss the Bayeux Tapestry as comic art. I read that book sometime in the 1980’s. I think a lot of people assume the Bayeux tapestry as comic art was McCloud’s idea, but we don’t all walk around with a reference library in our heads, so there you go. I can’t find my copy of Becker’s work to quote, but I did find an article by Arthur Asa Berger with a mention of the Bayeux Tapestry as comic art in the summer 1978 issue of The Wilson Quarterly.
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My first exposure to the idea of comics as descendant of fine art was Maurice Horn’s 1976 The World Encyclopedia of Comics which was my first read re: comics history. I still have my tattered 1976 edition. 
While Horn scorned the idea that tapestries and manuscripts could be comic art (see, it was a matter of discussion way back then, so much so that authors were writing snarky asides to one another about it,) he believed the origin of sequential art was in the Renaissance sketches of Leonardo da Vinci - which I think everyone now agrees is kind of a bonkers idea.
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I think Horn was just intent on elevating the comic art form by hooking up with da Vinci.
You go, boi.
Comics as descendant of art on scrolls is a very common theory, the easiest to trace being in Manga! Manga! The World of Japanese Comics by Fred Schodt published in 1983 when I was still a teenager. I can't find my copy to show examples, but this text is still in print and you can go read it for yourself. 
I was introduced to manga by cartoonist Leslie Sternbergh and bought Schodt’s book at Books Kinokuniya on (I think) a trip to New York around the time of first publication of Schodt’s work. And years later took a trip to Japan with Fred Schodt and a group of cartoonists including Jeff Smith and Jules Fieffer, Nicole Hollander, and Denys Cowan as the guests of Tezuka Productions.
Here we all are.
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So, I’m familiar with manga, see.
As for comics as descendant of cave paintings, hieroglyphics and ancient art in general, Will Eisner’s 1985 Comics and Sequential Art not only made all of those points, but made those points with comic art examples. Like these.
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And this.
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And this.
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And more than a few words on this:
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I find it amusing that someone is questioning why I didn’t cite McCloud when what you should probably be questioning is why more people don’t cite Eisner who produced his book eight years before McCloud published his and who is well known to have influenced McCloud.
Whatever. My book's autographed.
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I also danced with Eisner. Eat your heart out.
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Understanding Comics is a terrific work with huge advantages over every book (that I know of) about comics that came before: it taught comics entirely in the language of comics. 
But the discussion in it about the origins of comics and my work especially re: illuminated manuscripts/tapestries, did not originate with McCloud. I research illuminated manuscripts because it’s my hobby and it informs my art. 
I encourage everyone to read Understanding Comics because it is an outstanding work.
But it’s not the book that introduced me to the concepts of the development of comic art. It’s not even the point of origin of those concepts. So, there is no reason to cite it.
Also, shocking as it may seem, I occasionally come up with ideas on my own. While I'm younger than McCloud, I've actually been a comics pro longer than he has. So I've had plenty of opportunity to, you know, read things and toss things around, and decide for myself.
When I first read Chivalry and first begged Neil Gaiman to let me adapt it, my head full of the work of Alberto Sangorski and his art for Tennyson’s Le Morte D’Arthur, Understanding Comics hadn’t been published yet.
It's been a good twelve years since I last read McCloud's work, and I don't think I've spoken to him five times in the last three decades. But I'm pretty sure he never mentioned Sangorski.
I hope that clears everything up, and maybe introduces some of you to some works you might not be aware of.
Have a great day.
2K notes · View notes
spidybaby · 9 months
Note
Wenassss.... Can I request something? Maybe just having a nice evening with his parents and brother while Pedri is being soft with you in front of them and they just love you and your guys relationship? Pleaseeee
It's okay if you don't want to do it, I'm just in need of fluffly Pedri, I'm having some mean cramps and I cant think of anything else but this🥴 also take your time, ten un buen dia/tarde/noche.
Baecation
Summary: Your boyfriend family loves the way your relationship is, always taking care of each other.
Warnings: none ❤️
A/N: Ay mami, I was supposed to post this a few days (weeks) ago, but I hope you're good and don't have cramps anymore. Btw sorry, I was MIA but now I'm not 💋 also special thanks yo my girl @gaviandgrizisgirl luv u 💛
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"If you can be an animal for a day, what animal would you be?" You ask Pedro, you're drinking a piña colada while Pedro is drinking a strawberry drink. "I would be a shrimp."
"A shrimp?" Pedro laughs, he thought you would answer with a dolphin, an elephant, or even with a butterfly. Not a shrimp.
You nod, laughing at his confused expression.
You both are in Tenerife enjoying vacation. Well, you're enjoying vacation, Pedri is recovering and training for the pre season and the US Tour.
"Yes, my friend," you say, sticking your tongue out. He kisses your temple, thinking that maybe that piña colada is hitting. "So, you would be what?"
"I, my friend," he says, making fun of the way you call him friend. "Would be a."
"A donkey." Fer scream from the pool. Adrian and Paula laughed, and Pedri gave him the finger. "It was funny, admit it."
"You'll be the most cute donkey." You grab his hand, kissing it multiple times. "Fer would be a cookroach. Those are ugly just like him."
They all erupt in laughs. That piña colada was definitely hitting. "Oh, preciosa, you're the best." He pulls you to him, hugging you and kissing your temple.
"That was mean." Fer says. He loves making Pedro mad, even tho he wasn't the easiest to make mad. Pedro has this soft spot for him.
"It kind of was." Adrian joins the conversation, "but you were a bitch, Fercito." He hit Fer in the head and goes back to Paula, his girlfriend.
"I was mean," you admit. "I'm sorry, Fer. I think you would be a killer whale." You say. He thinks about it for a while and smiles happy about it.
"And you, golden boy." You bop his nose with every word. "You would be a panther." You joke knowing that since he saw Black Panther II, he mentioned he wanted a panther.
He shakes his head, laughing at how you can remember everything. "Would you be a panther with me, or would you be the shrimp on my plate?" He asks, lips on your neck.
"Noup, still a shrimp." You say, making him laugh even harder.
Fer looks at you, smiling. He's happy for his brother because he found somebody who loves him and cares for him. He knows your relationship is a healthy one.
"Pedro, those drinks are allowed for you?" Fer asks, since he's the chef for his brother, he knows the diet and restrictions Pedro has.
"I'm going to get one more drink, and I'm done." Pedro says, even tho he wasn't drinking alcohol like the rest, he was drinking more sugar than what he was supposed to.
"Let me go get you that." You say, stopping him from getting up. He kisses your cheek, thanking you for doing that.
You walk inside the house, finding Rosy and Fernando talking and helping each other with the making of dinner for everyone.
"Hi, do you guys need any help over here?" You place the empty cup, grabbing the strawberry mix and pouring more for your boyfriend.
"No, mija, you can go back. We're fine here." Fernando says, cutting some vegetables.
"Are you sure?" You ask again. "Let me take this to Pedro and I'll be back to help you."
Even they tell you that it's okay, you know they need some help. You grab the cup back and walk outside.
"Gracias, preciosa." He says, grabbing the cup. "Come sit, I want to show you something."
You shake your head no. "I'm going to help your parents in the kitchen, show me later?" Your hand in his hair, caressing his brown locks.
He nods, and you go back inside. Rosy and Fernando are talking about a new thing for the tasca. "I'm back, let me help you with the dip."
You chat with them for a while, they ask you about your classes and about your family. "Tell your mother I want that cake recipe."
When you met the González López you brought a cookie dough cheesecake. Rosy fell in love with it, well they all did.
"I can make it. We can get the things tomorrow and prepare it." You suggest, cooking with him was one of your favorite things. She taught you so much, and you were happy to bond with her with that. "Pedro might hate us for preparing it while he's on a diet."
In that moment, Pedro joined the three of you. "And what exactly are you making?" He asks, curious.
"No seas chismoso." Fernando laughs, patting his son back. "Venga, entra ya que iré a llamar a los demás." (Don't be noisy, get inside, I'm calling the rest.)
He walks over you, you're finishing a dressing for his salad, he grabs your waist, positioning himself behind you, kissing your shoulder. "What is that?"
You explain all the dishes you helped Rosy prepare, and explain to him about the salad and dressing you saw on tik tok. It was good because it didn't break any of his diet rules.
Rosy paid attention to the too of you, loving how you cared so much about him to the point of remembering what can and can't he eat.
"And this chicken is made specially for you, it's less greassy for your salad." You finish explaining. Pedro, thank you and help setting the table.
Fer, Adrian and Paula walk inside, laughing at some joke Fernando told them. They went to change since they couldn't sit with wet clothes at the table.
In the end, Adrian and Paula ended up leaving. They were invited to dinner by Paula's family.
"I can't believe it." Fer says, acting hurt. "You're trying to take away my position as mom's helper."
You all laugh at how he says it. "Well, she's a really good helper and doesn't change the recipe." Rosy defends you.
"Plus," Fernando adds. "She's doesn't complain about chopping the vegetables."
"Es que ella es simplemente especial." Pedro, kiss your cheek. Making you blush. "Nadie como ella." (She's just simply special. Nobody like her.)
To you, it was still new the whole affection in front of his family, but to him, it wasn't. His parents were like that. Even his brother and his girlfriend were like that. You weren't as used to due to your family not being this affectionate with one another.
To them, you shouldn't be ashamed. They know how much Pedro loves you, always saying how special you're and how he's so in love.
Rosy and Fernando love the way you're with him, and obviously are proud that they raised a gentleman.
"I have to take care of you." You say as you pinch his cheek. "Now eat you salad."
"It's so unfair you guys have amazing meals, and I have pure salad and chicken." He says, even tho he's very disciplined with this diet and exercise, he's getting tired of seeing you all enjoying these amazing meals.
He told you that before, how sometimes he just wants to get a burger and some French fries, but he's focused on his goals to give up like that.
"Here, let's share some salad so you won't eat alone." You push the food Rosy prepared and grab a new plate to serve yourself salad and chicken just like him. "You see? Yummy."
The look Fernando and Rosy share is a surprise one, because not even them as his parents thought about doing that, not in a bad way, they always supported him in every way, but food is food.
"You must love this idiot a lot because I know you didn't just reject this whole delicious meal for that salad." Fer jokes. Making you laugh.
"We're a team, right preciosa?" Pedro ask you. Elevating his hand for you to high-five him.
"We are." You high-five him. Making his parents stare at you like aw. "Your mom and I are making a cookie dough cheesecake." You say to him.
The expression he has is a funny one. He can remember the taste and hate that he will not be able to eat it. "So unfair."
"I want to know." Fernando asks, looking at Fer and then at Pedro. "Which one of you is going to do the dishes?"
"Not me, I did them last night." Pedro says, lifting his hands. "It's his turn."
"I hate you. At the end you'll help me." Fer says, throwing a piece of bread at him. After that, the talk turned out about what's next for Pedro, the tour, the season.
You were about to help Fer with the table, but Rosy stopped you, telling you that you already helped enough in the kitchen.
She dismissed you, telling her son to take you away from the kitchen. "Vamos, tengo que mostrarte algo." He says, walking you both back to his room. (C'mon, I got to show you something)
You sit criss-cross on his bed. He did the same and pulled out his phone, "Look." He hands you some texts between Xavi and him about how you can go with him to the US Tour.
"No way." You say hugging him. "Pedro, no way."
The smile he has while looking at you all excited for going to the tour with his is one that can light up the whole sky.
"Es que eres increíble, gracias." You hug him again, laying on his lap and kissing his whole face. (You're so amazing, thank you)
"Everything for you." He says, kissing you back.
He knows you're not that used to public affection. Specifically around family, he remembers that one time you push him away because your little cousin walked into the kitchen.
The kissing session became more heated than expected. He was now on top of you, an unbuttoned shirt, and the straps from your blouse being down your shoulders are just the beginning.
His hands travel around your body, grabbing everywhere he can. "Eres hermosa." He humms before attacking your neck with his lips.
You try your best to silence the moans, not wanting his family to find out what you're doing. But the way he was touching and kissing you made it almost impossible.
Your nails scratch lightly on his shoulders, his shirt is on the floor now. It's now your turn to tease him. Kissing that soft spot that makes him crazy. "You have to be quiet, mi amor." You say.
His lips on you to silence the two of you. While your hands go to unbutton his shorts, his hands are pulling your shirt out of your head.
But three knocks on the door make the two of you jump scared. "Si?" Pedro is the one who talks.
"Mom and I want to show you guys something." His father says, "meet us downstairs."
Your heart is beating so fast that you feel like passing out. "We're so not doing this again." You say, walking to the bathroom to fix your clothes. "You need to fix yourself, Pedro." He buff, angry at the interruption.
Once you both calm down, you make your way to the living room where his parents are. "Did you call us?"
"Vengan, tengo unas fotos para mostrar." Rosy says, making room for you on the couch. "This is an old pic from our vacation." (Come here, I have some pictures to show)
You look at the pictures, finding them adorable. Both Pedro and Fer were so little and so adorable. "Back to the time when you used to listen to your parents." You joke looking at Fer.
Fernando laughs and gives you the reason. "Es que ere joyita, hijo. Hasta ella lo sabe." (You're something else, son. Even she knows it)
You love it when they share their memories with you. It makes the moments you spend with them so special.
"When we get time, we have to go print the pictures we took these days." Fernando says to Pedro. "We have to add them to the album."
"You'll have your first appearance in the album." Rosy tells you. "Don't repeat this, but Celine cried when she got into the album."
She whispers this so Fer couldn't hear it. Celine was Fer's girlfriend. She was so special and so lovely with all of them, even with you.
You're thankful for all the love they give you, always making you feel like one of them. "I'm so excited for my first picture on this album."
"Nothing to thank us, niña. We are the ones who had to thank you. For being always so special with our boy." Fernando says as he messed Pedro's hair.
"That's true. Thank you for loving our son so much." Rosy hugs you. "We know he can be a whole lot sometimes."
"Hey, don't give me a bad reputation." Pedro laughs. You grab his hand. Happy that you find your way with someone like him.
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thisismeracing · 5 months
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Charlieverse | CL16
― Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader ― Word count: 2.1k ― Warnings: mentions of alcohol and Halloween costumes (clowns, werewolves, and others).  ― Summary: When Yn decided to go to a Halloween party with her best friend, Charles Leclerc, she did not consider that some of the fantasies would be so close to reality that they would terrify her. But one thing Yn had no idea about too, was Charles’ feelings for her. All Hallow’s Eve is not the most romantic scenario to confess your feelings, but it might be just the perfect one for them.
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There are many sayings about how sharing is caring, and how life feels bigger and better when you do so.
Charles knew this all too well.
He was used to sharing everything with you since he was a kid.
It all started after you forgot your snack at home. He was only five years old then, but he had two brothers so he knew exactly what to do. Little Charles offered to share his bag of colored goldfish and grapes with you. The next day you shared your coloring pencils with him. It started with simple things, and it grew as you both grew older. All through the school years, Charles and you were inseparable, even with his crazy racing schedule. You would take notes for him, he would bring you stories, and you would study together until late hours. You shared your fears, deepest feelings, and even the shame of being underdressed when invited to a party such as now.
“I had no idea people would go this hard,” you state, watching as the Taxi driver came to a halt in front of the big doors. Gathered in front of the mansion were people dressed as all kinds of gore Halloween beings, some of the makeup seeming too real to your liking.
“We can go back home and change if you want,” there’s Charles' tranquil voice. He is always the one to keep his patience even if the world is ending, and you love that about him.
You shake your head, “We would never find something else in time, plus, we’re together, so… here’s to another good story,” you point to your matching costumes, and Charles smiles.
You’re both wearing Spiderman costumes. Though it felt like the best choice, the easiest one, you should have guessed it was too easy and, therefore, not ideal.
Charles gives you one last wink before putting on his mask. You do the same just as he opens the door for you, and hand in hand you walk through the crowd into the house. You cling to your best friend’s arm trying to stay as far away as possible from some of the costumes.
“You sure you’re ok over there?” Charles asks when you’re halfway to the kitchen, and you tighten your grip on his hand.
You nod, “Yeah, just.. That werewolf costume seems too realistic.” And there’s no need for you to explain to him. He knows you like he knows the back of his hand, his favorite track, his most played song. Charles knows that someone planted a seed of fear about some creatures when you were little, and some of the stories have stayed with you even after you grew. It is a bit curious how despite your fears, you still love Halloween, at least the kind of parties you go to where people will dress in a way that clearly shows that they are human beings and meant no harm.
Were you supposed to guess that a certain crazy clown costume was a mere costume after seeing people being killed by those?
You wouldn’t stay to answer that question.
When you finally reach the kitchen, both of you take off the mask to your friends, hugging and making your rounds. Charles grabs you two a drink and you choose to stay there instead of mingling and risking bumping into scary figures.
“Can you get me another of these?” You mouth to Charles pointing at your empty cup. From across the kitchen, he nods, and a few seconds later he’s in front of you with a full cup.
“They were out of ice, is it ok if we share this one?” he asks over the music and you nod. You’re sitting on the counter, and when Charles turns to your friends he stands right between your legs. One of your hands goes to his shoulders, and you keep talking about your costume as if your heart weren’t hammering inside your ribcage, almost coming out from your throat the second his hand finds your knee, holding it so your anxious bounce can cease.
You gulp trying to keep your attention on whatever your friend is talking about because all your mind can focus on is your best friend’s hand on you, his body radiating warmth into yours. And not that it is unusual for Charles to touch it, quite the opposite, he loves to hug and kiss those he cares about, but it’s just lately your heart seemed to wish for a different kind of sharing.
It wants to share the secret touches. It wants to claim hungry kisses, tears of happiness, loud silences, and whispered mysteries. It is as if your heart created a reality where you had all of this with Charles.
Your own Charlie-verse.
The party keeps going in full swing, and Charles never leaves your side for over thirty minutes. He comes and goes always checking if you’re ok and if you want to go with him, but you choose the safety of the counter and your crowd of friends. The conversation is good, and so is the booze, from the kitchen you can see a bit of the living room and the pool area through the glass doors.
And it’s only when part of the girls decide to go dancing that you hop off the counter, and grab Charles’ hands following him in the direction of another crowd of friends. You’re tipsy enough to lace your fingers with his and to tighten your grip when you pass people dressed as clowns, werewolves, and with fake open wounds.
You end up in the pool area in front of Charles, he holds your body protectively against his, while his other hand has a cup you’re still sharing. The conversation is between the group, but every once in a while something will catch his attention and he’ll whisper about it in your ear, to which you’ll slightly turn your head, chuckle, and then answer him.
Though you felt a bit out of place at first with how everyone’s costumes seemed so extra compared to yours, you and Charles have had a lot of fun. So much so that you have given up going back home and decided to share a cab to his apartment.
Half of the ride a tipsy Charles is lecturing you with his “I told you so” about how he suggested you slept at his place and you denied it before the party. You just rest your head on his shoulder and pretend you are listening to his non-stop rant.
As it happens, the driver seems a bit uninterested in Charles’ rant because he turns the music on, and the last song that starts playing when he makes the curve into Charles’ street is Michael Jackson. You shriek and start jumping on the car seat.
“Chérie, it’s late,” your best friend tries to reason, but you just giggle.
“You have soundproof walls.”
“But not windows,” he tries again, and you playfully roll your eyes before getting out of the car wishing the driver a good night.
“Annie, are you okay?” you start to sing as you reach the elevators, and Charles just fakes a sigh, holding you close by the waist.
“So, Annie, are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?” you sing loudly until you reach the penthouse.
“Love, that’s not Smooth Criminal’s dance, that’s Thriller…” Charles holds back his laughter when you start a made-up choreography in his living room. “Oh mon dieu, you’re so precious.”
You giggle, smacking a loud kiss on his warm cheeks. While you make your track to the bathroom Charles goes to the kitchen.
“I’m using the guest bathroom! Go shower on the main one, you stinky!” you scream from the corridors and you hear his scoff, almost able to picture his eye roll.
You go through your shower on autopilot, brushing your teeth, and reaching for one of Charles’ shirts that are on the guest bedroom bed. Your visits have been so frequent you have everything you need there, but tonight you didn’t want one of your pajamas, you want to indulge in the daydream that your mind is harnessing.
When you reach your favorite Monegasque bedroom you can hear the shower still running, so you settle in the middle of his bed, staring at the ceiling. Somewhere in your head, there’s still music playing and your body seems to have kept a bit of the buzzing from the party. The distant noises coming from the open windows, along with the wind hitting the curtains lull you into a soft slumber, that only goes away when a door closes, you guess it's his closet, you smell his body wash and shampoo before he steps close to you.
There’s too much happening inside your head, so you choose to stay in silence while your best friend watches you attentively, eyes finding yours in a beat.
Charles, on the other hand, doesn’t have much in his head. He only has you. Your smell, your laugh, your voice, your body on his bed wearing his shirt.
“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” his mouth works faster than his brain does, and just like that you’re staring at him in confusion.
It’s like his brain is shortcircuited.
Charles gets up from the bed.
He walks to the door, then turns around and comes back to your side. There’s a crease between his brows and you have known him long enough to identify it as worry.
“Sharls, what’s going on?”
“I’m not drunk ok? Before you say anything, I’m not drunk, I’m just tipsy like you,” he starts and you nod from your spot on the bed. “I am so sorry, but I have to tell you this, and I’ll completely understand if you don’t feel the same, but I have to take this out of my chest, Yn.”
Sensing how serious the situation is you sit up, legs crossed one over the other, hands tucked under them.
“I- uhm… See- It’s like this, I-”
“Charles,” you call.
“I’m in love with you,” he spills in a single sentence, but then he keeps going. “I love you so fucking much it’s starting to hurt the fact that I’ve been keeping it from you. And I don’t even know when it started, but I’m so used to sharing everything with you, I just.. I wanted us to share more. I wanted to share my bed with you, and my clothes, and-” he points with his fingers before you could say something, “And I know we already share those things, but I want to do it differently. I want to share romantically. I want to share my heart with you, Chérie, all of it. But I’ll understand if you’re confused or overwhelmed by my outburst, in fact… shit… I should have waited in case you wanted to go home right? Please, tell me that if you don’t feel the same you’ll at least get the farthest guest bedroom, I promise I won’t bother you, we’ll pretend it didn’t happen in the morning and I-”
“No,” you interrupt.
“Pardon?”
“I said no, I won’t sleep in the farthest guest bedroom.”
“Oh- then let me drive you, just…– fuck I can’t I drank… uhm I’ll–”
“No, Charles, stop,” you get on your knees on the mattress and reach for his arm, bringing his body close to yours.
“No, I’m not sleeping in the guest bedroom because we’re sharing a bed tonight. No, I’m not mad about your admission, I’m sharing my heart with you too. Romantically,” you confess.
His shoulders drop in relief, and you giggle, threading your fingers on his soft strands. Charles mutters something you can’t understand because you’re too focused on how his face seems different from this angle, after all the confessed words. He’s still your Charles, but he’s also a new Charles, and this knowledge brings a new feeling to your heart and stomach.
When his lips find yours, soft and warm, a contrast with his cold hands on your jaw and waist, he presses your bodies closer and hums in pleasure. You smile, unable to contain your happiness. He kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, and when the air has made itself scarce, you part the kiss, foreheads still touching.
“So, Charlie, are you okay? Are you okay, Charlie?”
Charles throws his head back and laughs.
He knows how insufferable you could get once a song gets stuck in your head.
“I was struck down. You’re such a smooth criminal, Chérie. Stealing hearts around so easily.”
It is your turn to laugh.
“That was cheesy, but I loved it,” you mumble before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I love you.”
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────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, lovelies! I hope you liked the piece, I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Delia (@struggling-with-delia on Tumblr) for proof and beta-reading this <3.  Let me know your thoughts on this piece *mwah*.  
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sassycheesecake · 9 months
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Meeting kid!Kiyoomi was an arranged meeting decided by the parents of Kiyoomi and your parents.
You were just a cute little eight year old, while Kiyoomi was already ten years old.
And to be honest, you have never seen a kid with that deep of a scowl before in your short life.
Honestly, his presence and his dark eyes gave off a highly intimidating aura that you wanted nothing to do with.
Your mum gently ushered you into his direction and you made hesitant steps towards him.
With each step you took, Kiyoomi‘s scowl grew even deeper and he almost looked like a cat hissing at you.
Seeing kid!Kiyoomi‘s mean face almost made you tear up and his mother scolded him to lose that face.
His frown softened just a bit and when you were both close enough, you introduce yourself first, bowing down a bit.
"Hello Sakusa-san, my name is (Y/L/N) (Y/F/N). Nice to meet you."
The ravenette just looked at you with an undefined look on his face, not sure yet if you’re a friend or foe.
"Why don’t you show (Y/L/N) around a little bit? Maybe you can show her Tora?" His mother suggested.
Kid!Kiyoomi seems in thought before he asked you to follow him.
Not waiting for you follow, you quickly ran up next to him, trying to make conversation.
Yet whenever you talked about something or asked him anything, he would either hum, shrug or give very short answers.
"So… what do you like to do?" You ask him as you kick a few stones away on your walking path.
"I like volleyball." And it was so quiet, you barely heard it.
"Volleyball? How come?" You asked in return with big eyes and your curiosity made him blush a little bit.
"It’s a cool sport. I just like it. I play with my cousin sometimes."
You beamed at him and you got so close, that he backs away a little bit from your excitement, his blush only intensified.
"I am glad there is something you DO like Sakusa." You gave him a big grin and that cheeky grin of yours with one tooth on the side missing, made his heart beat a lot faster and he wondered, where that warm feeling suddenly came from.
Nonetheless, the two of you spent the day together, you got introduced to Tora, Sakusa‘s pet chick and it was the cutest damn thing you had laid your eyes on.
While you were holding the cute little chick, Sakusa kept his eyes on you intensely and without realizing it, a small smile grew on his face as well.
Now older, both of you did grow closer and Sakusa had introduced you to his Cousin Komori.
It’s still a mystery to you how those two are related to each other, the only two things they shared in common was their bloodline and their love and dedication for volleyball.
You did not enjoy playing volleyball with Sakusa due to his harsh spikes and his constant nitpicking on you, but when you played with Komori, that was a different story.
He was kind, gentle and he actually talked more than three words in an hour.
Seeing you get close to his cousin made kid!Kiyoomi‘s stomach twists in a very upset way.
Like if he ate something bad, someone didn’t wash their hands or someone didn’t cover their face when they sneezed.
Kid!Kiyoomi absolutely loathes this feeling.
Seeing his older sister doing homework on the table, Kiyoomi went home earlier without saying anything to you or Komori.
Stopping in front of her, he asks her something in a very upset voice that she is all too familiar with.
"Oneesan, whenever I see (Y/N) with Komori together, I have this very upset feeling in my stomach. What is that and how do I stop it?"
She looked with surprised eyes at him before giggling.
"That is not funny. I could be dying." The curly-haired ravenette frowned.
"Kiyo, you’re not dying. You’re just jealous." She explained and went back to doing her homework, and she explained it as if it was the easiest answer in the universe.
"Of what?" His frown deepened.
She perched up an eyebrow and looked back at him.
"Because of Motoya. You like (Y/N) and you don’t want Motoya near her."
His frown turned into a deep scowl and it made his sister laugh even harder.
"I do not like (Y/N) in that way."
"Sure if you say so. Your googly-eyes at her tell me otherwise." She teased him.
Without any replies, Kiyoomi padded back into his room and slammed the door a bit when he closed it.
Sakusa did start to realize he might have feelings for you when you’re both in High School, attending Itachiyama High.
You were in the Equestrian Club and Sakusa attended the volleyball club.
When your school had a competition with Shiratorizawa, Iizuna Tsukasa, the captain of the volleyball team took an interest in you.
Your determination, kindness and passion gave Tsukasa heart eyes whenever you were near.
And it made teen!Kiyoomi furious.
Unfortunately the Outside Hitter couldn’t do anything but watch as his Captain tried to ask you out at least twice and was rejected both times.
Why, teen!Kiyoomi never found out.
6 years later~
Sitting on a bench swing, you hear the glass door being opened behind you.
Nonetheless, you keep your eyes on the stars.
A presence sits down next to you, wrapping his muscular arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side.
Leaning your head against his comfortable shoulder, you sigh out in bliss, your breath being visible in the cold night.
"What are you thinking about my love?" Kiyoomi asks you in a gentle voice.
"Your mean face when I met you the first time. Your scowl scarred eight year old me."
He scoffs at that and pinches your shoulder very slightly.
"Well I hated you back then but now you’re the love of my life."
"Hated me?! Excuse me Mr.I-Hate-Everyone but I was just trying to be nice and you blocked everything off like Grumpy from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves."
"Thanks love, I appreciate it the comparison to an old bearded grumpy guy."
"Well I mean the only thing that is missing is the white beard."
After that, Kiyoomi tickles your sides, your cheerful laughter filling the cold night air with warmth that reaches the Outside Hitter‘s heart and as long as he is the only one who can hear your laughter, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world.
And even though, both of your bodies have changed and matured over the years, adult!Kiyoomi‘s love for you has not changed since kid!Kiyoomi fell in love with you.
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Text
Home is Wherever I’m With You (Steve Harrington x Reader)
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summary: a collection of scenes from moving in with Steve. (wc 2.6k)
warnings: kissing, cursing, domestic steve, found family, you know the vibes. let me know if I missed anything!
a/n: I’m thinking of making this a multi-part series, one where you could just read any part you wanted out of order, but that all fit in with this reader and Steve. let me know if that’s something y’all are into or not :)
masterlist
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In typical Steve fashion, the question of, “Do you want to move in together?” is simultaneously the easiest question in the world to answer and an earth-shattering declaration. 
“So I was thinking…” Steve starts. He’s laying across your bed, arms hugging one of your pillows close as he watches you put away laundry. Sort, fold, put away, repeat. 
“Dangerous,” You hum.
“Not nice,” he quips without hesitation, used to you.
You giggle then prompt, “You were thinking…?”
“Well your lease is running out here soon…” He’s got this lilt to his voice, the kind that he puts on when he’s trying to seem nonchalant. He’s never been very good at hiding his real feelings though, not to you. “And those apartments on the other side of town just opened up. You know I’ve been trying to get out of my parent’s place for, like, ever, so I’ve been saving up. And now I’m sitting here watching you fold laundry and all I can think about is how I want to fold laundry and make up a bed and pick out dishes with you. I don’t know, that sounds stupid out loud, I guess it was just a thought I had. You can think on it or tell me to shut up about it or-”
“Steve,” you interrupt, not unkindly. “Are you asking if I want to move in together?”
“Well-” He makes an odd gesture with his hands. Drops them back down to his lap and shrugs his shoulders while looking for the right thing to say. He settles on, “Yeah. Is that…something you would want?”
You can’t hide your smile from him as you crawl across your bed until your faces are level to each other. You kiss him, a bright and quick kiss that makes his eyes soften, losing some of the nervous tension in his shoulders. “Yeah. That’s something that I would want.”
His answering smile is bright enough to fill the room. 
The easiest part of the process is getting the apartment. 
A leasing agent shows you around a staged space. You and Steve hold hands through the whole tour, even while he does things like open cabinets and check the faucets because he wisely informed you, “That’s what you’re supposed to do when you tour a new place, babe.”
“How would you know?” You’d responded with a giggle, but shut up when the leasing agent appeared to talk to you about the spacious kitchen with new appliances. 
It’s not actually very spacious and you’re positive the appliances aren’t new, but Steve’s thumb runs across the back of your hand and you wouldn’t care if it was the worst apartment in the world, so long as he was the one you’re sharing it with. 
A few days later, you’re signing papers- the trailing cursive of your signature touching Steve’s as you sign a lease together. 
“Okay, and this page is about the no pet policy. So, I guess Dustin can’t come over-” Steve snickers when you hit him. Steve signs at the bottom of the sheet, long fingers flipping to the next one in the stack of papers you both have to go through. 
Despite how certain you feel in your decision, you can’t help the galloping beat of your heart.
“Hey,” Steve’s voice is quiet, a soothing balm on your anxiousness, “We don’t have to do this. You can back out now, no hurt feelings. It won’t change anything.” 
His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, just holding there. A reassuring weight that conveys how genuine he is, how patient he is with you while he waits for your response. 
Your fingers find the bottom of his polo, thumb dragging across the stitching so you don’t have to look in his eyes. See the wide, unconditionally caring expression in his eyes that is undoubtedly mirrored in your own. 
It won’t change anything- meaning he wouldn’t hold it against you. He would drop the whole thing now, even when you’re so close to this new future with the two of you. Your Steve, always looking out for you, whatever you need. 
But you don’t need reassurances on this. 
“You just want the closet to yourself, you can’t fool me.” You sign the final page and push the paper across to Steve. You dare a look up at his face. 
He’s smiling- just a small upturn that he’s trying to hide. He shrugs, “It is a nice closet.”
Then there’s the moments in between. In the time before your old lease runs out and your new one with Steve begins, you both start to accumulate little things that belong to the two of you. 
Date nights are now spent at thrift stores, lovingly picking out mismatched plates that somehow work together. They’re what you can afford, and they’re not perfect, but you love them all the same for the simple fact that they belong to the both of you. 
Despite it being only the two of you living in the new place, Steve insists on picking out seven extra plates. And when he finds a mug with the Ghostbusters logo on it, collecting dust pushed back on the thrift store shelf, he handles it with care as he puts it in your cart. You pretend you don’t know why, but file it away to tease him about later. 
A few days later, Steve shows up at your apartment door, hauling a box full of things that clink together when he sets it on your counter. 
“Cups! And they’ve got cool designs on them.” He looks so proud as he unwraps the tissue paper from around a glass to show you. True to his words, etched into the glass are pictures of fruits, wrapped around the middle.  
“Where did you get them?” You examine the designs as he pulls out a set of wine glasses to show you.
“Dustin’s mom was clearing out her cabinets to get new stuff, she asked if I wanted them.”
“Dustin’s mom is offering you glasses now?” You bump your hip against his.
“Yeah, well,” He looks slightly sheepish, “When I went to pick Dustin up the other day she came out and started telling me this big story about how she heard we’re moving in together and she remembered the days when she first moved out of her parents’ house and not having anything and handed me this box.” He gestures to the cardboard like it’s a treasure chest. You suppose, to the two of you, it might as well be. 
A different part of the story sticks out to you. “You told Dustin we’re moving in together?” You step in close, arms wrapping around his waist as you peer up at him. 
“I think a shorter list would be who I haven’t told we’re moving in together.” He reciprocates your hug, wrapping his arms around you tight, and he doesn’t have the decency to look embarrassed. 
You giggle, press a kiss to his jaw. “I’m really excited to live with you, Steve Harrington.”
“You’re okay too, I guess.”
You feel his smile when he kisses the top of your head. 
The most difficult part of the process is the actual move-in. 
While you count your lucky stars that there’s no rain in the forecast, the sun beating down on the two of you is draining you quickly.  The heat makes your shirt stick uncomfortably to your back, and your stop every so often to wipe perspiration from your brow. 
You’ve hauled more boxes into the space of your new apartment than you care to count, Steve and you passing each other as you both go back and forth from your car and his to collect more things. 
There’s a recliner that you acquired from your parent’s storage shoved into the back of your car, and you’re not sure if you can muster up the strength to get it into the apartment. 
“Steve, let’s just live out here,” you call, leaning miserably against the side of his car. 
He looks equally as tired as he deposits the box he was carrying on the ground in favor of leaning next to you. 
He considers your proposal for a moment. “There’s no walk-in closet out here,” he eventually sighs.
“The world is our walk-in closet.” Your head thunks against the metal of the car as you wither a little more. 
“Oh right, obviously.” He rubs your shoulders soothingly, fingers scratching against the material of your shirt.
The jingle of a bike bell and the crescendoing sound of arguing voices catches your attention, spine straightening as you look towards the road leading to your apartment complex. 
“What the hell?” Steve sounds properly mystified as he spies the source of the noise. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of your favorite rag-tag group of high-schoolers coasting down the hill and screeching into the parking lot, pulling their bikes into a space a few spots down from you and Steve.
“I told you taking Ellington Road would have been faster,” Lucas grumbles as he kicks the stand on his bike. Max kicks her skateboard up so she can grab it, appearing to have been riding along on her board while Lucas pulled her with a rope tied to the back of his bike. 
“Well we’re here now aren’t we?” Dustin throws his arms up.
“Yeah, but if we took Ellington we could have been here five minutes ago,” Mike points out, not bothering with the kickstand as he lets his bike fall. 
“Oh my god, shut up about Ellington or not Ellington,” Max sighs as she ties her hair back. 
“Henderson!” Steve calls, arms up in exasperation. For a moment, he and Dustin are mirroring each other, and you chuckle at the picture. All of their heads snap towards you, as though just now noticing you and Steve. “Guys, I told you I can’t give any rides today, we’ve got a lot of moving to do.” Steve’s hands go to his hips as he jerks his head to the boxes spilling out of the back of his car. 
“That’s why we’re here!” Dustin’s grin takes over his face. Mike looks a special kind of miserable as he squints from the sun, dark hair even messier than usual from riding his bike. 
Steve’s brow furrows, confusion across his face. Lucas elaborates, “Yeah, we’re here to help you move stuff.”
“And to see the new place. They’re already planning on how to get you and Steve to let them crash here whenever they want.” Max smarts as she struts over. She reaches to the Walkman on her hip and she pops out the tape in it, passing it to you. “I liked it,” she says simply, giving you the tape you had let her borrow a few weeks ago. From Max, those three words are a glowing, five-star review and you preen just a bit. 
“We are not scouting a new hang out spot. We’ve got Mike’s house for that.” Dustin good-naturedly slaps Mike’s shoulder. Mike rolls his eyes and hits him back. 
“I don’t know, you could probably fit at least six sleeping bags in the living room. Maybe more.” You say casually.
Dustin stops. “Are you shitting me?”
You shake your head, trying to disguise your smile, “I’m not shitting you.”
“Well before we do sleeping bag configuration, we have to get all this inside.” Steve cocks a hip, pointing a finger at the group. You’re gaining a much clearer understanding of why he begrudgingly calls himself their babysitter. “So if you shitheads aren’t kidding, grab a box.”
“Aye, aye,” Dustin gives a little salute that Lucas joins in on. The group disperses, Lucas and Max grabbing totes from Steve’s car while Dustin and Mike attempt to brave the recliner in yours. 
“Jesus, guys, you’re going to break your backs that way- hold on,” Steve rushes over to Dustin and Mike, already swooping in to help them when they struggle lifting the chair. 
Watching them bicker playfully with each other about the best way to get the furniture into the apartment has your chest filling with an aching fondness. 
But you have no time to linger in the feeling as Lucas calls out over his shoulder, “Should we take these straight to the kitchen?” and then you’re hurrying inside to show him where to drop the boxes. 
With the help of your impromptu moving crew, the rest of your and Steve’s things take no time at all. But all of the lifting and moving is still exhausting, which is how all of you end up sprawled across the floor of the living room. You try to cool off in the air circulating from the ceiling fan. 
“Yeah, I bet we could totally fit more than six sleeping bags in here,” Dustin muses. 
Mike shakes his head. “You’re not accounting for when they get a couch. That could be, like, two sleeping bag spaces gone.”
“Yeah, but then two people could sleep on the couch, you know? No real estate lost,” Lucas points out. The others consider this, eyes focused up on the ceiling, before nodding in agreement. 
“Are you guys paying rent now too?” Steve groans, throwing his forearm over his eyes. You roll over a little so he’s within arms length and pat his chest placatingly. 
“I’m starving, what do you guys have to eat here?” Dustin lazily pushes on your ankle, the only part of you he can reach from where he’s laying. 
You take in the boxes scattered around you and laugh loudly, “Absolutely nothing.” Steve giggles with you. 
You end up finding two boxes of mac and cheese and a half-eaten bag of candy, squashed in the bottom of a box labeled Kitchen in Steve’s handwriting. 
“Only the essentials, right?” You tease, shaking the bag of candy.
“That’s our saving grace right now, I don’t want to hear any backtalk about it.” Steve snaps a dish towel at you as he pulls it from a box and you laugh in delight. 
You rummage until you find a pot to cook in, and Steve digs around for bowls and silverware.
Eventually you present your findings to your little house of workers and they let out cheers not befitting of the actual meal you’re giving them.
“A feast for kings,” Dustin praises as he takes a bowl from you. You ruffle his hair in response. 
Your scattered belongings get pushed to the edges of the room to make space for everyone. You sit together, making a circle on the floor, and eat your first dinner- scavenged as it may be- in a place that belongs to you and Steve. 
You’re listening to the kids argue over something they won’t remember ten minutes from now. You soak up the sounds of having your little family all gathered here, the crinkling of candy wrappers and the quiet scrapes of forks against bowls and the ebbs and flows of their conversation. The apartment is earning the name home. 
From where you both sit cross-legged on the floor, Steve bumps his knee against yours. “First meal in our home,” he says, pushing a spoonful of mac and cheese around in his bowl. He grins like it’s a secret. Our home rattles around in your chest, then grows roots and decides to plant itself there.
You kiss his cheek chastely and clink your bowl against his. “Not too shabby for some broke kids.”
“Not too shabby at all,” he agrees. His free hand guides your chin up so he can kiss you properly, a slow drag of his mouth against yours. It’s a lazy, soft thing that promises a million more to come so long as he gets to keep kissing you for right now.
He tastes like home. 
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my3rzs · 1 year
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can i pls request something abt xavier and op who can see people's auras?? like shes new to nevermore and sees everyone's auras changing according to their humor but she just?? cant see xavier's and that bothers her, so she tries to get emotions from him, anger, happiness yk, then idk maybe they go to the raven together and at the end of the night when they finally kiss she can see a bright pink aura around him :]] or whatever way you feel like writing it (you can write reader as GN if you want as well!)
i don’t get it?
pairings: xavier thorpe x reader
summary: you saw everyone’s auras except xavier’s, who knew a kiss could change it
warnings: reader is an asshole, swearing, idk i think thats it
a/n: im sorry this was really shitty, i am more focused on school mostly rn, and this is NOT PROOFREAD, REBLOGS HELP A LOT!
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nevermore.
at first you thought you were gonna be an ‘outcast’ at an outcast school, but you made a couple friends, enid, her aura was a bright yellow, probably because she’s always smiling and full of joy, and wednesday who had black, ‘cause she was so mysterious, and had strength. you could see all of your friend’s auras except for xavier, the guy you like, of course it has to be the guy you like.
you were at the quad with ajax, so you told him about it for some help, maybe he knows what to do.
“i just can’t see his aura! and, of course i have to have a crush on him, for god’s sake!” you whined
“maybe, try getting some emotions out, make him happy, sad, whatever” the gorgon said
“thats a great idea, ajax! i owe you for this one!” you say
“y/n- please, don’t go too far on him- hes kinda a sensitive kind of guy, okay?” he says worried
“i’ll try, i’ll make sure hes okay” you gave him a smile as you left the quad
“goodluck!” he screamed
you decided to make xavier happy, the easiest one first so you couldn’t cause any harm, so you decided to do one of his favorite things he does with you, the carnival. good thing it was a friday, so no school tomorrow which is perfect.
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classes were finally over, so you could finally try to find xavier.
you ran to him when you saw him in one of the hallways, “xavier! hi! do you maybe wanna do something tonight?” you say
“sure! what do you think we should do?” he looked down at you
“wanna go to the carnival, maybe?” you smiled
“okay then, it’s settled! be there at 6:30 sharp, y/n” he gave you a big smile and patted your head
“see you there, xav!” you walked away and blushed because he patted your head, you kinda felt bad you were kinda forcing him to show emotions.
-
you were scrolling through social media while in bed, seeing your friend’s posts and enid’s new gossip about the school, until you checked the time, it was 5:24PM, so you decided to get ready for your plans with xavier.
you decided to wear pants with a chase atlantic shirt, and you brought a jacket just in case.
“oh my god! y/n, do u have a date?!” enid, your roommate squealed out of excitement
“it’s not a date, idiot, im just hanging out with xavier at a carnival” you say
“just admit it, it is kinda a date, y/n” she smiled
“well i guess- but it’s like a friends kind of date?” you say
“whatever you say, y/n” the werewolf gave you a wink
you rolled your eyes and looked at the time, 5:59PM and decided to text xavier
y/n: hey, is it ok if i come right now? im a bit too early
xavier: uh yeah sure, meet me by the ferris wheel
at the carnival
you walked up to xavier, “hi! what do you wanna do first?” you gave him a smile
“photobooth?” he questioned
“yes!”
you two walked in the photobooth, getting ready for the camera, you both did some funny poses and one where he was looking at you but you were too busy posing to even notice he was looking at you
you guys walked out and grabbed your photos, and saw that he was looking at you in one of the photos, you smiled.
“we look so cool!” you say
“wanna do balloon darts?” he asked
“okay!” you gave him a slight smile
-
you kept missing every dart and it was getting kind of annoying.
“idiot, let me help you” the blonde boy said and grabbed darts
he popped almost every one of the balloons and won a stuffed bear for you.
“thank you” you say.
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it was the next day after u hung out with xavier, and you still didn’t see his aura that time. you sighed and saw ajax come up to you.
“anything yet?” he asked
“no, i tried making him happy by hanging out with him” you whined as you covered your face with your hands
“maybe you just need to kiss him” ajax teased
“shut up!” you whispered as you hit him lightly on the hand
“speak of the devil” he gave you a mischievous smirk and walked away when he saw xavier walking your way
“what-“ you got cut off by a tall boy behind you
“y/n! last night was fun, do you maybe wanna go to the weathervane today? we could study there, or i could go on my own?” he gave you a light smile
you wanted to say yes so bad, but you decided to make him jealous today, or mad.
“uh, sorry, no. i have a date with tyler today, maybe tomorrow?” you say nervously
his smile faded when he heard you say the last part, he didn’t really have a good relationship with tyler.
“right, have fun, y/n.” he says and walked away from you
did you go too far? you sighed.
but he mentioned about going to the cafe on his own, and tyler was there. so you decided to go there aswell to meet up with tyler.
at the weathervane
you saw xavier sitting in one of the booths and walked past him as you felt his eyes on you.
you rang the bell and waved to tyler and hugged him.
“hi tyler!” you say energetically
“hi, y/nn!” he says
you could see xavier fuming at your peripheral vision, perfect. but you still couldn’t feel his aura. you looked over to xavier’s booth and saw that he was gone. i guess it really affected him.
2 weeks later
it was 2 weeks after the whole weathervane thing, you didn’t really talk to xavier much because of his jealousy and if you were being honest, you kinda regretted getting xavier’s emotions out of him just so that you can see his aura.
tomorrow was the rave’n, so you and your friends went shopping for your outfits.
you already got yours, but you were missing one thing, a date. you wished xavier was your date right now. but it was not possible. so you just decided to go solo.
-
it was the next day and it was 7:30PM, the rave’n starts at 8 o’clock so you decided to dress up in your outfit already. you met up with your friends downstairs.
“lets go!” enid squealed
you all walked down the stairs and you could feel everyone staring at you, including xavier.
your friends decided to get drinks and dance. while you just sat there all alone. a slow, romantic song started playing. and everyone and their s/o started to slow dance. you sighed but felt a light tap on your shoulder.
“hey, wanna dance?” xavier gave you a smile and held his hand out.
you grabbed his hand and went to a corner, you placed your hands around his neck as he put his around your waist and you two swayed your hips to the music.
“i’m sorry, i only did the whole tyler shit so i could see your aura ‘cause i couldn’t see it, and also because i liked you.” you say
“you’re an idiot, you know that?” he says chuckling
“your idiot, of course” you smile
he cups your face and leans in to kiss you desperately and you kissed him back. you felt a bright pink aura from him, you smiled against the kiss.
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I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE HEHEHEHE SEND MORE REQUESTS BTW PLS
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literally shaking, convulsing, after reading your work, oh my goodness. my favourite is your metal arm drabble, your miiiiiiind—literally blacking out as we speak, send help, immediately. now, i had a thought:
bucky with a pillow princess, but like, kind of laying her down as a pillow princess, he just wants to make her feel good, because i know this man eats pussy like his life depends on it, like it’s so vital, he’s totally addicted.
i hope you’re doing well, please take care of yourself. and i hope this ask isn’t obnoxiously long; i did get carried away here. only because you’re the bestest!
I loved writing that drabble so much and I'm so happy you liked it!! I'm sorry for being gone and taking my time to answer your asks, but I do have a lot to say about this...
You felt a certain pressure to service Bucky. Not because of anything he did, he never made you feel pressured with anything. But after everything he’s been through and being so emotionally and intimately neglected, you wanted to show him the other side of it. You wanted him to lie back and go cross-eyed with pleasure. You wanted him hissing and groaning and whining for more. You just love it when his face contorts and relaxes violently as if unable to choose between pleasure and relaxation. Selfishly, you fucking love that.
But Bucky doesn’t really understand how you think pleasuring you doesn’t give him nearly as much pleasure, if not more. When he pulls at his own cock, he imagines you coming around it and squeezing his come from him, he imagines grinding into the mattress with his face buried between your thighs, he imagines his other hand knuckle deep inside of you until you drool. Bucky’s fantasy is always of your pleasure. Specifically, the pleasure induced by him.
He likes that you put up a fight, however. Bashfully slapping or shoving him away, writhing in the sheets as he positions you in a way that he knows is comfortable for you. He’ll be firm and gentle, pretending like it isn’t the easiest thing in the world to manhandle you. He likes spreading a wide hand over your belly to keep you down and then… tease.
Kissing, biting, tracing, nudging everywhere but where you need him. With knuckles and lips and fingertips and the tip of his nose. Nipping with his teeth as he watches you clench around nothing and until slick drips down between your legs. That is when you become pliant like he wants you.
Oh, he loves eating pussy, but he enjoys it so much when you just… take him.
“That’s it,” he’ll murmur and nudge his nose over your clit, making you shudder. “Just how I like it. Let me have my way with you for a little while…”
You can only whimper, knowing the only way to get what you want – what he made you want – is to take everything he gives you. Allow him to enjoy eating your pussy more than you enjoy having your pussy eaten. And then, you feel his tongue. Sliding through your slick and curling around your clit, before the small nub gets sucked between his perfect lips until the nerve endings swell with need.
Oh shit–
“Good girl,” he whispers and wraps his entire mouth around you, groaning into your folds as his arms wrap around your thighs and pull you up to his mouth further.
He once had you like this under a table at a deserted restaurant, where you tried to push his head away and fought for your life to keep some modesty about you. He enjoyed that too, but–
The low moan that leaves you on a sigh has Bucky pressing his hips into the mattress with a choked grunt. His ministrations sound so wet and filthy, it spurs him on even more. His tongue slips and his lips tingle with something like adrenaline to push you further. Your flesh dips where his fingers grip you and he groans at that, too.
He’s not sure if the heavy breaths he hears are yours or his, doesn’t know if your hands in his hair pull him closer or push him away. He chooses to believe you pull him closer– and he doubles his efforts, making you gasp with a high-pitched whine. Oh, you are heaven on his tongue…
And then, you say something that has Bucky smirk wolfishly.
“More.”
He peers up, marvelling at your heaving chest, your swollen lips and glowing skin. He makes an inquisitive noise and knows you’re fully in tune with him when you repeat yourself on the last of your oxygen.
So his finger breaches your entrance and you sigh in delight, clenching around the digit gratefully. You sink down into him and Bucky’s heart swells, his brain shutting off. He’s not going to feel sated with just one orgasm. He needs all of them. He wants you begging for more, yet unable to do so. He wants to burst with all the things he wants from you.
His eyes flick towards the clock on the nightstand and he smiles at himself. 7am. That is plenty of time. Plenty of time to make you soak the sheets, move you to the couch, eat you there while he washes the sheets, and then move you back to the bed where he will worship you until you’ve lost a day to laying in the pillows and taking him.
Your moans raise in pitch, breaths coming to you with more difficulty. He slides another finger in to add to his first, skating over that spongey spot and causing your thighs to tremble.
“Right there, huh?” he mumbles and presses soft kisses to your clit as his fingers explore inside of you. “You going to come for me? I want you on my tongue, okay? I want you to come right on my tongue so I can lick you up. Let me lick you up, baby. Let me taste your come.”
He doesn’t know where the filthy words come from, but the contortion in your face tells him you’re exactly on the same wavelength as him, and it drives him insane to know how much you love the idea of him drinking you up as you come for him.
His nose circles your clit as his tongue settles right along his fingers. “Good job, sweetheart. Come. Right now.”
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pandorasfavorite · 1 month
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Kinky smut after reader acts like a brat on RAW
Influenced
AN: NOT ME WRITING REQUESTS FROM MONTHS AGO LMAO. Sorry lovelies.....
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AN: I'll probably finish this...but I had to post something yo
Dominik wasn't a demanding boyfriend by any means, honestly, he was really kind and patient. He never asked much of you, so when he did you complied. You originally didn't have the desire to test Dominik's dominance ever, because he's already so good to you there's no need for him to prove anything. However, after falling into a rabbit hole on social media, you were influenced. There were hundred of posts and stories of women being "bratty" toward their sweet boyfriends. Each story ended well...
You were dressed up and ready to go interrupt the beginning of Monday Night Raw. Dominik was wearing his black gear (that drove you wild) and a shirt draped in front of his pants. From the moment you walked in the dressing room Dominik's expression lit up. His arms fell open and he completely neglected the conversation he was in before. You approach him and give him a quick hug and a peck on the lips. You are an inch apart from him, smiling up at him and grabbing his hands in yours. "Hey babe, you ready?", he looks over your outfit (his tongue slides over his lips quickly). You bat your eyelashes at him and hum as an answer.
You drop one of Dominik's hands and your eyes focus on the shirt that is hanging in front of his pants. It annoyed you a bit how he covered up the thing you liked looking at... you smack the shirt and it flies up. "Why are you wearing this?", you question him in a displeased voice. Dominik notices the attitude in your voice and you smacking the shirt was out of the blue -- even for you. Dominik furrows his eyebrows a bit at the behavior but lets it go un-noticed. He simply just grabs your hand in his and brings it to his mouth to kiss.
You pull the same hand out of his grasps again and you smack the shirt again, scowling at the useless thing. Being a brat was fairly easy when you had something to not like. This time though Dominik wasn't as happy, his face pulls into the sexy angry frown that shows so often on TV. He taps your cheek with his finger in order for you to look up at him, "Stop that".
"Stop what?", you smack his shirt one more time, just cause. Dominik grabs your wrist lightly, pulling it away from the shirt. "You know what cut it out. I'm serious". You stop, for now, the best way to work his nerves is to continuously stay on top of this. To calm him down you lift up to kiss his lips, and his body relaxes instantly. His hand finds its way to the back of your head pulling you in for a deeper kiss that makes your stomach do flips. He pulls back with his boyish grin and holds your hand as he walks out the door with you.
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It's important to note that Dominik (while he is very patient), he is a very jealous man. All his patience flies out of the window when the jealousy filters in. In fact, his jealousy is so bad some nights after Raw he has to push you up against the wall and shove his fingers inside of you just to hear you moan his name. You were going to take advantage of that weakness to get what you want, after all it's the easiest way.
All 5 of you step out into the darkness with your heads down, then the lights turn on. Every night you fight the urge to squint your eyes from the blinding light. Dominik's arm is around your waist and he takes you with him, every step of the way. It was a 3 v 3 match with the boys against another group of three. You and Rhea were positioned outside of the ring to make an appearance and distract the ref if it came down to that. As the match started so did your bratty behavior...
One of the opponents was looking at you from his spot on the outside of the ropes, you waved to him with a seductive smile. Dominik watched the interaction and his face was downcast in anger, so much so his knuckles were turning white from the grip he had on the ropes. His eyes followed you as you skipped around the ring, and interacted with fans in the front row. You were always the most friendly out of all the members of the group.
Again the same guy was watching you, sizing you up, and he went as far as motioning for you to come up to him. Dominik is radiating heat and he is scowling without the desire to hide it, Damian notices the interaction and he instantly taps him in. Dominik walks around the ring and points to the guy that you were 'flirting' with. The rest was history. Dominik starts with the guy not letting up on any of his hits. You could tell even after the match was won and finished Dominik was righteously heated. He met you in the middle of the walk way and instantly thrown his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his side so he could kiss your head while he was looking back at that stupid guy.
Though he may not seem all that mad to the blind eye, Dominik's clenched jaw and screwed-up face say otherwise. After a short goodbye the Judgement Day dispersed in different directions, leading to Dominik steering you into the Judgement Day dressing room that you know so well. He opens the door for you and then shuts and locks it behind him rather loudly. He runs a hand down his face before taking a step closer to you. Your chests are on the verge of touching and Dominik's hands are twitching as if he's itching to take action. But he'd never do anything without having a conversation first.
"What was that out there?", he takes a heavy breath trying to speak calmly towards you. "What do you mean?", you bat your eyelashes and feign innocence. Dominik's head tilts back and he chuckles at the blatant disregard for the obvious, "You know what you were doing out there, don't pretend you don't". His chest is puffed up and he's looking at you with such displeasure but his eyes say something different. His gaze is intense and makes your legs feel wobbly. Honestly, it's making you a bit nervous and it's intimidating in a way you didn't mind embracing, "I don't know what you're talking about" you squeak out.
Dominik acts fast; pulling right up against him by the belt loops. His lips are hovering just over yours and you can feel his deep breathing of frustration fanning across your cheeks. "Say it", he said in a deep raspy command, the words sent a shock down to your core. Your heart is racing out of your chest and if it wasn't for the desire you were feeling in that moment, Dominik would have to scoop you up off the floor. You raise your chin up in defiance at him, crossing your arms over your chest, "Make me".
Dominik's hands fly to your waist and he spins you around, pushing your body with the back of his to move you forward. He walks you over to the back of the couch and bends you over it by the waist. His hands then brush your hair to one side of your face, now he has a perfect view of your star-struck expression that he yearned for. Dominik leans in close to you, his teeth now poking out as he grins, "You've been a brat all fucking day", he recalls. He pulls your pants down to your mid-thighs, just enough for him to spread your legs a bit and slip two fingers inside of you.
The moment he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them inside of you every time your breathing picks up, you feel your legs shake. His fingers are soaking wet and knuckle deep inside of you, and the tent in his pants only gets more defined when he hears the squelch your pussy makes. Your wetness was beginning to drip down the side of your thighs and Dominik mentally had to block out the idea of getting on his knees and licking it up, so nothing goes to waste. You hum in delight at the increasing feeling that you loved approaching, Dominik noticed your tell tales and refused to hide the fact that he knew.
"You really think you're going to get to cum? After acting like a brat all day? Just because you wanted to be my cock slut". You gasped at the filthy words flying so carelessly from his mouth, but also from the way he spits directly on your cunt after pulling his fingers away. You try to reply but your words come up short as you feel his large hands sliding down the back of your thighs. His skilled hands pull your thighs apart even further so he can have room to bring his face directly against your pussy. The feeling of his nose bumping against your clit and his smile that you so clearly can point out has you moaning out to him, "Baby please- m'sorry". You gave in, being a brat was hard when your man knew how to please so well.
You feel the way he laughed and shook his head in disbelief, he completely ignores you and swipes his tongue through your puffy folds. His tongue thrusts inside of you, working out the tension of you clenching around him.
AN: when my writing is shit but I have to provide like a good mother..
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