#sorry I had to be petty about the outfit thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quibbs126 · 6 months

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I know you've done this before but can you please maybe make a darkwhip kid, but with the basis that Whipped comes from the Millenial Tree family?

I finally finished her, this lady is Whipped Ganache Cookie

Fun fact, Whipped Ganache was one of the first fankid names I came up with when I first made my list, which was a little before I opened up requests, I just didn’t get requests for darkwhip nor did I have ideas like I did for pureraisin and darklico, but then I finally ended up getting this request, so I could use it

So basically ganache is like this chocolate sauce or icing or filling, it has a lot of uses, and whipped ganache is this whipped version with more cream than chocolate. I picked it because it seemed like whipped cream but chocolate, perfect for darkwhip

The thought occurs to me that maybe chocolate mousse could have worked too (mainly due to my roommate saying whipped ganache reminded her of it), but I like Whipped Ganache. And I can save it for later (but not the other darkwhip kid, and I don’t need a third one)

Whipped ganache:

So this is technically my second time drawing her, with my first attempt only getting as far as the hair sketch. I couldn’t figure out what to do for her outfit, so I just left her for some months until yesterday

But I had a good idea of what to do for the hair (even if I changed it somewhat)

But let’s get to the outfit. Yet again, I didn’t really know what to give her, other than she probably wears dresses. I put her in a hanbok since I was like “I dunno, that’s an outfit she could wear”. And sure it looks fine, but I wasn’t really sure it fit her, specifically with the request of her having some relation to Millennial Tree Cookie, but you know, no one gave me a goddamn answer when I asked (well other than my friend who said keep the hanbok, but she also said she was biased so) so I just had to stick with the hanbok. I’m still not sure it works to be honest. I mean, if she’s going for a formal event/festival in the Dark Cacao Kingdom, sure, but I’m not sure it works as her default. Maybe if I can come up with something better I can make a new design with that, but for now, this is what I have

I’m also not sure about her outfit colors to be honest. I wanted her to have pinks, but I also wanted her to have browns (and also that purple I got that looked neat), and I’m not sure I found the best balance in the end. But I asked my friend and she said “look good” so I kept it

I like the mountain pattern on her hanbok, I got that straight from Dark Choco’s costume

Sorry, I don’t have much to say. I came up with the hair months ago and don’t really remember all the logic other than it being long sort of like Millie and having pearls because Whipped Cream, and I have more complaints about the outfit because I don’t think it fits. But I like everything else about her aside from her outfit

Anyways, character time

So I think I came up with some ideas for her back in July when we were coming back from England, though I soon went on to work on Vanilla Lily/Witch Hazel (and fun fact, I haven’t looked back at those notes until right now as I’m writing this)

So first thing about Whipped Ganache (that I probably should have mentioned in the design section), she is very tall. She isn’t necessarily wide, but she is tall, taller than either of her parents. I just wanted to mention that

But anyways one of her main things is that she has healing magic, which is what she’s supposed to be doing with the flower in the sketch (wasn’t sure how to give off the glowing effect though). But also, while her magic is healing, it’s deadly towards things of dark magic, like what healing magic does to undead things in old games (actually as far as I’m aware that’s only FF7)

I’m remembering now, I think one thing I envisioned with her is her summoning a giant ass laser like what Millennial Tree does in his Skill, and when she fires it, her allies caught in it would be healed while her enemies (presumably made of dark magic) would be harmed

Whipped Ganache is generally a very serene and kind person, has the patience of a saint. I’m not sure she has a breaking point, she probably does but I haven’t thought much on it. She’s very attuned to nature as well, maybe not to the point of being a tree hugger, but enough that she doesn’t like blatant exploitation of it. Also she’d survive very easily by herself in the wild

Another thing about her is that she plays a harp. Not a lyre like what Carol or Lilybell uses, but a full giant harp. I got that from listening to Millennial Tree Cookie’s theme

Anyways, I think that’s about it for her. But also just a note, she’s not the only darkwhip kid I plan to make, it’s just that she doesn’t necessarily follow the same rule of being related to Millennial Tree. I mean she and Whipped Ganache live in the same timeline, they’re sisters, but she doesn’t have much that makes that trait noticeable, so she’ll get her own thing

But yeah, I hope you enjoyed Whipped Ganache

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satoruhour · 9 months

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reader x toji where they hav an argument nd the reader dresses slutty and suddenly has plans at the club w her friends. but toji doesnt like that 🫣

a/n: IM HERE . IM HERE SORRY IVE BEEN RB-ING SO MANY THINGS !!!! but i promise im writing hahahaha. but also i dont owe anyone an explanation! enjoy anon!

wc: 1.4k

warnings: toji picks ur lock w/ a bobby pin lol, reader is a little mean LMFAO but #valid, dom!toji, pussy drunk tojiiiii, implied overstimulation, oral / cunnilingus (from the back + face-sitting + lying on ur back), exhibitionism? (reader is on call with her friends but her girls don’t know she’s getting eaten out!), implied unprotected p -> v sex @ the end, implied creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

“yeah— but you didn’t have to say it like that!” you huffed out at your boyfriend, or so you thought, because you probably had read too much into this relationship, heart tearing apart when toji simply said he was with his woman, with benefits while on the phone with shiu.

you tsked when toji opened his mouth to explain, a distraught expression on his face that implied it was a slip of his mouth but even then you were relentless about the simple slip-up that meant a lot to you. it wasn’t often that toji had anything but an indifferent expression on him and you’d relish in his panicking face with a smug grin if it wasn’t for your rage.

“stupid fucker — still thinkin’ i’m just some bitch he fucks like he doesn’t whine for me in his sleep,” you grumble to yourself mindlessly later, phone blowing up from the messages from your friends while you scour through various outfits that slowly flood your bed.

No way he said that!!!! Wtf???? Who does he think he is?

let’s bring u out tonight babe. wear sum cute

yeah!!. Let’s get ur mind off of that lame fella . he still kinda hot tho…

it’s messy and there’s a continuous clash of colour with each skirt or top you pull out and you groan in annoyance, so you take a shower — and it’s not all that better either, mulling over that dreaded sentence while lathering yourself up, while washing it off, getting dressed. it pisses you off so much that a man’s words can affect you so much, but that’s the price you pay when it comes to toji.

the toji who gives you a crushed, bloody bouquet after coming back from one of his dangerous missions, the toji who grumbles while he pushes the last nugget in the mcdonald’s box toward you despite loving it, the toji who likes to feel your body against his because he’s said that the mere sensation of you pressed up against him is enough to make him cum.

you scoff when you hear a knock on the door, in the midst of pulling an extremely short skirt up your hips with your ass basically peeking out from under it, paying it no mind before securing a tube around your bust.

“shut the fuck up!” you bark back when toji knocks again and there’s silence altogether, rolling your eyes when there’s a dramatic sigh from behind the wooden door and your feet naturally has you swerving away from the bed to open up the door, if not for the call from your girls that come in. the ringtone echoes throughout the room, distracting you from the professional work being done by toji with one of your bobby pins.

with phone on the bed, it’s led to your ass being propped up while you’re on your hands, butt facing the door with a full on display of your miniskirt and the very lacey underwear toji’s gotten for you for your anniversary. it was a petty move, you know — everything felt right when you pulled the material over your legs after your shower, not expecting yourself to pick up such a revealing bottom.

but now you know everything definitely felt right when those panties pooled at one of your ankles that hang off the bed while you’re trying not to whimper into the call with your girls who’s just so excited to see you. it’s a wonder they haven’t already heard the sloppy noises of toji eating it from the back, hands gripping onto your ass cheeks so hard they form bruises and you don’t have it in you to give a fuck when the other licks a hot, long stripe up your folds.

“left the house already, hon?” one of your friends ask and you’re gripping so tightly onto the phone that it hurts a little, not missing the way toji mumbles out that your pussy tastes as sweet as ever.

“uh— ah! n-not yet!” you squeal when toji smiles into your cunt and you absolutely hate how your hips shimmy toward him instinctively when your boyfriend pulls on your thighs to bring you closer, “i’ll leave soon, o-okay— mm—”

“babe?”

“okay bye!” you panic and press the large red button, hanging up immediately before your moans increase in volume immediately and your head dips into the bedsheets. the man eats pussy like a starved man, slobbering over your pussy while his nose just takes in your scent and arousal — something that’s gotten him hooked since day one. your leaking hole, your sensitive clit, your twitching thighs. god, toji loved every part of you and he was determined to fuck you better than a friend with benefits.

“’m sorry baby, mmfhh—” toji grunts into your core, “any chance ya could forgive your old man?”

the hold on your pride was getting looser and looser while your hands only clutch the sheets tighter and tighter, whimpers turning into a borderline scream when the man manoeuvres himself under you and yanks you down onto his face. your arms support your limp body instantly, hips moving with their own mind as you grind into toji’s tongue with breathless pants, rolling your pelvis over him and he groans at the feeling. toji doesn’t care that your miniskirt is in the way, eyes peeking out from the fabric and flitting over to you and your breath hitches cause you know he’s serious in earning back your forgiveness.

“not when— haah… you’re still saying i’m just some— w-whore you fuck.” you’re still a little bitter, but toji below you is enough to make you clench around nothing, high already approaching when he switches between sucking and nibbling and flicking his tongue at your bundle of nerves.

“slip of the tongue, i promise, doll,” he talks into your drooling pussy, the vibrations sending chills up your body, hands flying to his hair to grab onto toji’s hair and pulling, “you’re my cute lil girlfriend, aren’t ya?” you hate how easily you nod your head, “mine to fuck, and mine to eat out, yeah?”

that sentence alone has you needing to lock eyes with toji just for a moment to see his lips curl up slyly, bottom half of his face soaked with your juices that your stomach contracts a little at the sight, a weak whimper leaving your lips.

“yeah…” you mumble out breathlessly and that’s all it takes for toji to go back to eating, quickly bringing that burning coil in your tummy again while slurping up your arousal. the room feels so hot and you’re sure you’re sweating through your outfit that you so carefully picked out that you’re peeling it off your body. your lover only wraps his larger arms around your thighs when he sees that your pretty tits are out, intoxicated on the thin layer of sweat lining your body and the curve of your upper body.

“toji, toji, toji—” you’re chanting his name like it’s a mantra, dizzy from the constant abuse toji does to your clit, pleasure shooting through your body when he moans around your cunt and you’re cumming with a moan of his name, thighs shivering around his head that he only laughs, humming into your core while you soak his sheets and skin. you’re just about prepared to get fucked when you catch a glimpse of toji’s hand palming his bulge, but that isn’t what toji has in mind when he changes positions again.

“taste s’good, baby,” toji groans, pulling apart your thighs that close from the sensitivity, “let me eat ya out until i’m forgiven.”

and all he can do is stick to his words whenever after each orgasm he pulls from you, you’re shaking your head like you’re saying you aren’t forgiven and he figures out your game soon enough, but whatever his girlfriend says, it goes. it’s just like that for toji who worships every part of you, a mistake rewarded well later when he taps his fat, leaking tip on your cunt and slips in easily from how many times he’s made you cum, reaching nirvana just from hearing your still-loud mewls leaving your worn-out body.

it’ll be something that will be burnt into his brain, forever, but toji doesn’t have time to think about that for now, so he just fucks you like he thinks a sorry man should fuck — deep into your cunt with the promise of being better and the need of giving you everything you ask for, even if it’s something as simple of wanting his cum in you.

whatever his princess wants, his princess gets.

i cannot go a day without mentioning breeding omfg im actually deranged

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stvolanis · 4 months

Text

BIRTHDAY BOY

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs

NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie

sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.

It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.

The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.

Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).

The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.

He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.

Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.

Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.

Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.

But you knew it was the other way around.

You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?

He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.

Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.

You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.

You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.

But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.

“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.

The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.

You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.

“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.

He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.

“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.

You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you

“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.

You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.

“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.

All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.

He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.

You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.

Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.

“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.

He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.

You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.

There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.

In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.

He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.

“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.

It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.

“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.

“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.

You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.

You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.

“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.

Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.

His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..

“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.

You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.

You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.

He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.

“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.

A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.

Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.

“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.

“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.

“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.

He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.

Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts

#elvis presley #elvis presley fandom #70s elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis x oc #stvolanis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis fans #elvis the pelvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis the king #60s elvis #50s elvis #elvis music #elvis history #elvis presely smut #elvis photos

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ciellunee · 5 months

Note

hey hi hello could u do a fic with toji fushiguro and maybe gojo?

one of them (or both 🤭) with a reader who has a very big attitude. like always making up comebacks, acting like a diva, etc. she also has really great hair and outfits. it can be sfw or nsfw—whichever one works better.

Hey! I hope you're doing good✨️ enjoy reading and keep requesting♡

Bratty reader x jjk men

Includes - Toji fushiguro, Gojo satoru

Tw⚠️- contains NSFW 🔞 minors dni

☆Toji fushiguro☆

At first, he's charmed by your attitude. Nobody ever dared to talk to him like that, but you, you were different.

You're gorgeous. He's in awe of the way you present yourself. From your hair to clothes, your figure and personality, everything is charismatic. Cherry on top is that attitude of yours. You know just what to say. Sometimes, it hurts his ego, but mostly, he enjoys that cute little smirk you have with every spicy comeback.

"Tojiiii, you always have to work on weekends," you whined. 'Some people need to work in order to earn money princess, unlike some who'll laze around the house munching on chips and then complaint they're getting fat.' He shot you a devilish smirk.

"Funny how you're still living under my roof when you work, and I laze around" getting closer to his ears you whisper - ' talk to me like that again and you'll be sleeping on street'

Acting like a brat? He'll make sure he punishes you.

◇NSFW◇

Toji fushiguro doesn't play when it comes to punishments.

He knows how to knock some discipline into your bratty self.

Will pound you from behind and makes you look in the mirror while you continually repeat- "I'm sorry daddy, I've been a brat!"

Degradation is toji's kink. Asks you to repeat things like 'who's sl*t you are' and makes you beg for forgiveness.

Fucks you hard all night until you pass out from all the orgasms you've had.

"Next time make sure your cu*t can keep up with your mouth princess"

☆Gojo satoru☆

Satoru is fun loving when it comes to you. He adores you so damn much that it doesn't matter how bratty you get sometimes.

One thing everyone knows about satoru is that, he's a very jealous man. He knows you're gorgeous. Your shiny locks, elegant clothing and beautiful skin....everything about you makes him crazy.

"Babyyyyyyy!! I miss your cuddles, you're always so busy" satoru groans. 'I can stop working as soon as you stop leaving your damn work unattended' you shrug.

"You're so mean I bet utahime would treat me alot more sweetly" he smirks. He's petty and he knows that. 'And I am pretty sure Kento would be my ideal match. He never complaints, always have my back, he's a great cook and above all......he's so hot!'

This was enough to throw satoru off the table. You're a mean brat and he NEEDS to cater to that.

◇NSFW◇

"Yeah?? Want to cum babygirl" your moans are slippery and eyes filled with tears. 'Toru ple-please' you whined.

Satoru edges you the whole night, reminding you who he his. "You're always so wet for me"

Asks you to moan his name louder and louder so that you know who's making you feel so good. Loves it when your mind breaks and the only thing you can think about or speak about his him.

"Weren't so sweet a while back? You think kento can take care of you like this? You think kento can make you feel like this? You think kento can make this cunt throb this much?"

Edges you to the climax multiple times but removes his hands until you cry and beg for his forgiveness.

I'll let you cum once I feel you're truly sorry. Till then....let's see how much this pu*sy can endure.

Tags- @brunette-bitch77

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut #jjk smut #toji x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #bratty

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luveline · 6 months

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Hi! I remember a while ago you said zombie!au Steve might have a hobby of drawing? Would love to see some of that maybe w r as his muse:D

steve zombie!au fem. 1k

You return to the camp with your new best friend at your side. In matching coats, no less.

"Christ," Steve says, shaking his head in disgust.

He loves —loves— that you have a friend, someone who might care about you just as much as he does. You deserve to be loved, and cherished, and known for your worth. You're a human vestibule of sweetness and God knows it wasn't going to be long before someone else noticed.

But matching coats? "Alright, where's mine?" he asks.

"Didn't have your size, handsome," Eddie says, giving you a quick and purely amicable hug. "See you later."

He scampers off to who knows where and you sit down. You don't hide your happy smile, and Steve's glad for it even if it does make him jealous. "He's so nice," you say.

"No, he's not."

"He is. He's almost as nice as you. And he helped me find you something."

"After he outfitted my girlfriend in a couple's costume. I'm surprised he had the energy."

"You're so jealous," you say, your happy smile growing in size with the seconds.

"I'm actually making myself feel sick."

"I can wear a different coat if it–"

"Shut up! As long as you like me better, wear what you want." He shakes off his petty jealousy and takes your hand. For once, he's sitting on a towel rather than just grass or dirt, but his efforts to avoid extensive grass stainage mean nothing when your muddy shoe brushes his leg. "Nice. Thanks."

"Sorry, sorry," you murmur, swinging your backpack off of your shoulder and sighing as you bend into yourself. "Jeez, my back hurts." You breathe out, a low moan of sound that drags. He can feel your pain. (He can't, but he figures that he loves you so much you're now connected spiritually to one another.) "How come I keep going on these expeditions and you keep staying home?"

"I'm good with the kids."

"Mm. Maybe you'll come on the next one anyways? I miss you when I'm gone."

"I miss you too," he says. "More, I'd say."

You giggle. "Whatever, you always have to be better than me. Shut up! Shut up, I'm trying to give you the things I found for you."

Steve draws a zipper closed over his lips and flicks away the key. You get into these moods with each other sometimes, perhaps from having spent as much time together as you have, where a faked aggression rises between you. It's almost like you would've spoken at the start of the end of the world, when it was him and you alone, and Steve wasn't in the best of moods. The play fighting soon dies down as you open your bag; receiving gifts is always a pleasure.

"First, underwear."

"Thank you," he says, accepting the eight pack of boxers you offer like a man who's crawled the Sahara being given a glass of water. "So much."

"You're welcome. Socks, a shirt, a new belt, a brace for your knee." You dump it on the towel next to him one by one. Your bag must've been heavy carrying all this, and it keeps going. You've brought him soap, hair elastics, razor blades, chapstick. The community you belong to is heavy on sharing, but you're free to bring home whatever you like so long as you're willing to carry it unaided once you've contributed to the food drive. You've clearly crammed your bag full of stuff for him, unveiling only underwear and socks for yourself.

"You couldn't find any toothpaste?" he asks.

You toss a pack of cigarettes at him without force. "Sadly, no. But I think Robin can get us some with those, right?"

"I wanna smoke these so bad."

You laugh and shake your head, fondly disapproving. "You don't! We can just kiss more, alleviate your cravings."

"Weirdo."

You lean forward, putting your cold hand on his cheek to leverage him closer. "You knew this when you met me," you say, kissing his cheek.

Steve's good on the cravings front after that. He swears that when things are at their worst a kiss from you could keep him going. Your lips can ease the ache of an empty stomach and the shattering heat of his ever-sprained knee.

You pull away gently like you're worried you'll hurt him in your detangling. Honestly, you might. Steve imagines you leaving sometimes like his arm being torn off.

You reach back into the back for a parcel wrapped in a shirt for protection. The pencils and sketchbook you got Steve are long gone, lost with the rest of your possessions in the middle of a college campus on the Michigan border. Finding things like that is hard, and it hasn't been on Steve's mind.

Apparently, it's been on yours.

"These are nice ones, right? The pencils?" you ask, having unwrapped your parcel, a soft backed sketchbook and a small metal case of pencils in hand. "There's only twelve, but I even found a sharpener so you won't have to do it with your knife. Sorry there's no black, I know you like the darker details."

Steve flicks through the sketchbook without thinking, every page blank. It isn't very big either, but it's perfect for purpose.

He sets it aside with the pencils near all your new things and gets on his knees, tugging you in for a hug. "Thank you," he says, and he's said thank you a hundred times to you, but this one feels awkward, clumsy in his mouth.

"You're welcome. Just promise you'll draw me again."

"You're the only thing I want to draw." He kisses your cheek in emphasis. "You're the most beautiful thing everywhere we go."

"That's such a line," you say, sounding melted.

Easy, he thinks, turning your face to his for a kiss. Soft, as sweet as he can manage. With you, kisses start soft and end too rough, he can't help it. He remembers you're there and his to kiss and it drives him crazy.

It's a little easier to stop today. Steve is genuinely eager to draw again, and in a week or two there won't be a page in his book without your likeness, his muse.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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lunarw0rks · 8 months

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Hi! Is it possible to get an imagine where Ghost accidently walks in on reader changing (they're together and reader doesn't mind) but Ghost kinda freaks out and insists he can wait outside until they're done. I feel like with his past he'd constantly worry about invading people's privacy/violating them in anyway, so maybe just some fluffy reassuring him that he's ok and he makes reader feel safe? Sorry if that's a lot 🫶

༄ Poise | Simon Riley

Warning(s): !!brief references to ghost's trauma/SA!!, established relationship, mentions of sex/nudity, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, gn!reader

₊˚ෆˎˊ˗ Word Count: 1.2k ꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ- ♡‧₊˚✧˖ 「 AO3 VER. 」 A/N: Tried my best to handle this topic respectfully. Definitely an underused, under-discussed part of Ghost's character.

Simon Riley was a complicated man, to say the least.

But he never intended to let his complications rub off on you — no matter how much suffering he voicelessly endured to ensure that.

Whether it was weeks into the relationship or months, his walls were still standing tall. Certain things: he just couldn't do with you. Reviewing old photographs of himself, going to a park where children run joyously with their parents, nor could he do anything to invade your privacy.

To you, your involvement with him was at a pivotal point. Where there wasn't a need to be bashful around the other and withhold the petty grievances.

Though, Simon's skeletons were anything but quaint.

There was weight to them; weight you only bore a measly tinge of. He never told you details, only bits and pieces of what he had been through. Those serious talks were scarce and short-lived — forgettable, even, if it weren't for the woeful nature of his past memories.

『 ♡ 』 • 『 ♡ 』 • 『 ♡ 』 • 『 ♡ 』

Per usual, he had gotten up long before you. It was a typical sight; laying in the empty bed unsure if Simon was even home, because of his default stealth. Even though you knew he wasn't beside you, your fingers outstretched to his side, palming the sheets that had gone cold in his absence.

With a drowsy sigh, you peeled back the plush comforter, revealing the remnants of the lustful night before. Or, the lack of remnants, considering you were still rid of your clothes.

Through the curtains, the risen sun engulfed the shared bedroom, illuminating its lackluster decor — at least on his portion of it. Little decor, no pictures or clutter out, clothes folded and hung neatly as he would with his uniforms on base.

After a few minutes of gathering your strength, you climbed out of bed and approached the dresser, giving your fatigued eyes a rub. You dug through the clothing piles until you found an outfit suitable for a slothful day in with him.

You set the pickings on the edge of the bed. Following, you were slipping into a fresh pair of undergarments, listening intuitively for any sound of your lover, which wasn't an easy task.

Simon ambled up the staircase, on his way to the ensuite washroom to retrieve the watch he took off to shower. In his mind, you were still fast asleep, especially after last night. His fingers clamped around the knob, opening it with slowness.

In a matter of seconds, he was poisoned with a sensation of unbearable discomfort, as well as disgust towards himself. Seeing you, nude and vulnerable rather than slumbering in the bed.

"Shit, I'm sorry, love." Unlike before, he handled the door with haste — closing it like he had just walked in on a stranger.

Your mouth remained slightly agape with bafflement, paired with a feeling of unease for him. You were only changing, and it wasn't the first time he had seen you undressed. This wasn't a little hiccup in the day, nor an off-beat moment that you could laugh at later on.

Something gravely upset him, and it wasn't your bare skin.

Quicker than before, you changed into the remainder of your outfit. As well as fixing up the rest of your appearance; an excuse to figure out how to approach the subject.

You exited the bedroom, giving the door a gentle close. No sign of Simon down the hall, not in the living room, either. You checked the office next, finding nothing but another uninhabited space. Lastly, you crept through the kitchen with wary arms folded across your chest.

Then, you caught a glimpse of Simon's unstirring silhouette through the window. Slouched while sitting on the steps of the deck; a thousand-mile stare into the garden.

He didn't flinch when the patio door shut behind him, not even when you sat beside him on the steps.

"This isn't about me being naked, is it?" You spoke into the crisp mid-morning air, feeling the unforgiving bite of it overwhelm your exposed skin and lips.

Simon scoffed at your poor attempt to lighten the bleak mood, giving you a brief glance. If only things— if only he were that uncomplicated. "No, it's not you. Nothing like that."

You nod your head, trusting that his blunt nature wouldn't allow him to stifle a thing as serious as that. If he truly wasn't attracted to you or your frame, you wouldn't be resting your head on his shoulder.

For a few minutes; the conversation stopped. Only the occasional passing car in the distance or an animal or insect chirping. The leaves blew gently, until the breeze eventually found the both of you, sending a bitter, unforgiving autumn wind.

The silence was fine; it was common with him. But it wasn't fine when you knew he was swallowed by sorrowful thoughts.

"Can I..." You began, still keeping your head pressed firmly against his solid shoulder. "Can I ask what's wrong? Why you wouldn't stay in the room?" Asking what happened was too far, and you were already walking a narrow line. He wouldn't hold it against you if you got too invasive, but that wasn't a chance you wanted to even consider.

Simon's flashbacks hadn't ceased for a minute. Not since he shut the bedroom door behind him and sat out here.

The worst part? None of it was your fault. It had nothing to do with your bare skin, not even him catching a glimpse of it. His inner voice had him convinced he overstepped; that he made you feel used and violated by proxy.

He sighed heavily, saying a thousand words with a mere exhale. "Things you don't need to hear, sweetheart. Trust me on that." That was one way of putting it lightly, considering the gravity of what he had endured years ago.

"Listen, Simon," your fingers roamed along his shoulders, caressing down his back, careful to avoid the scars he didn't want you to touch. "I feel the pain you walk around with, I do. Every moment we're together, it doesn't rest."

He nodded his head slowly, closing his eyes for a moment to absorb the bleed of your words. You weren't sugarcoating the rawness of how his past affected you, nor were you judging him for it.

"But you didn't hurt me, alright? You did nothing wrong." Your voice couldn't have reached deeper. The tightening of his chest had uncoiled a bit, soothing his silent episode of derealization.

Simon's shaky fingers found your cheek, caressing against your chilled flesh with a tender firmness, "don't think I deserve you and that bleeding heart."

Your brows knitted with benevolence, returning the same gloomy gaze his amber eyes were emitting. Following his words, you shook your head, gripping his wrists gently.

"You do deserve it," you retorted gently, "nobody makes me feel safe like you do." You had never said something more truthful. He really did make you feel safe, in every sense. Intimately, romantically, even just as another human being you decided to spend your time with.

"C'mere." Simon murmured, shortly before nudging your head in the direction of his lap, allowing you to lay against him completely.

Whether he believed you or not, that didn't matter. All that mattered was that he hit the jackpot with you. Someone who didn't tip the scale, who didn't need to be privy to his every sorrow.

You were there purely to be there for him, expectant of no rewards or praises — though Simon would definitely give them soon enough.

In his own, deeply complicated, way.

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uthseikoashx-goingmyway · 2 months

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things in IWTV season 2 i'd lose my mind if it actually happens (or when. because some of those things will happen.). sorry for the mistakes btw

1. Claudeleine romantic relationship

Claudia finally having a vampire lover she can be herself with. the romantic & sexual tension. the heart to heart Louis and Claudia would have before changing Madeleine. the yearning. the tragic ending. the change of dynamics in the De Pointe du Lac family. the disruption of it all.

2. an exploration of Armand's relationship to religion, faith and God

specially in 2022. past religious crisis. how he articulates his vampire nature, his faith and his despair. lots of hints of TVA. God and art. religion, Armand and Louis. his religion (conversion from being christian to being muslim in this universe? if so, why?). "i serve, a God," would you mind to develop?

3. dramatic irony about Daniel's past and Devil's Minion

the rent boy. Daniel actually realising he had been a dick about that. "oh." after understanding the irony of it all. Armand talking in riddles and hinting at something Daniel is totally ignorant of. young Daniel's life and messy, loving and weird relationship with Armand. some activism. 2022 Daniel getting old, sicker and sicker. laughs. angst. tension. yearning. longing stares. petty remarks. revelations.

4. Loumand complex relationship

the love and the suffering. how they are both deeply attached to each other. how they show their care. the place Lestat holds right in the middle. how they deal with Claudia's death. what Louis really thinks about it. the tension. the yearning. how their relationship actually developed. the extent of Louis' memory alteration and how it plays a role into their dynamics. the after: how Armand helped Louis. messy divorce vibes. petty moves. to what extent their relationship is doomed. how one person can love several persons and in different ways, and how complex and delicate it is.

5. The Groan™

what is that. a metaphor for sexual arousal? Lestat scratching the walls? Rashid trapped? some clues. what the fuck.

6. Antoinette alive and kicking

and coming back right on time for the trial, because it would be 1) so fucking funny 2) utterly tragic, considering Claudia would be killed for killing nobody.

7. amazing outfits

amazing outfits

8. lots of french

i'm french

9. Claudia and Armand's relationship

Claudia being protective of Louis. Armand dealing with it. some sort of bond rivalry. both of them aware that something's wrong with the other. Armand and Claudia's similarities being acknowledged (age, killing a human they loved — Charlie, Ricardo — and complex situation regarding their maker), even a possibility for some kind of understanding and compassion (making the end more tragic). Armand seeing a some of Lestat in Claudia. Claudia seeing Armand's love for Lestat. a common love for theater and spectacular shows. that awful experience before Claudia's death.

10. Louis and memories

the photos he takes (where are they in 2022? will they clash with Louis' tale?). the metatextual dimension of themes such as: unreliable narration, memories and perspective, autofiction. Daniel calling out Louis' avoiding strategies. Louis calling out Daniel's rudeness and biais. how Louis really sees his relationship with Claudia? the gap between Louis' and Armand's recalling. a deeper exploration of his superimposed identities (black, queer, american man; in 1940, 1973, 2022). learning how to trust someone new after being abused. the rain metaphors. Louis saying the most poetic and heartbreaking thing you'll ever heard. his relationship to vampirism as he joins Armand's coven. grief and loss of a family member. hallucinations and how they are filmed / manifesting. guilt. loving Claudia and Armand. loving Lestat, still. etc.

tysm for coming to my tedtalk. it was very self-indulgent but very much pleasant. i won't be mad if it doesn't happen (obviously!), or not like i imagine. still, it's fun to imagine and put that here on tumblr. no shame on lestat, i just have no special things i'm waiting for about him, and will be very happy indeed to see him again. salut

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ash-whimsicalfanfic · 10 months

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The reader is a Marines daughter she runs to work every day. Tony asks why she doesn't drive as she should be able to afford a car now. Embarrassed she tells them she has her permit but her father never had time to teach her to drive (a lie). He tells her tobuy a bike to her horror she Embarrasses herself more by letting it slip she doesn't know how to ride one that her father only taught her life saving things not stuff for "fun". Everyone just kind of moves on as she hides her embarrassment well from everyone but Gibbs who sees right through it. Later she asumes everyone left she mumbles to the picture of her father "hey dad do you think a bike or driving lessons are useless now"

You Ain't Alone

Word Count: 1k+

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this up! Hopefully this is okay! I went at a more father/daughter aspect between Gibbs and the reader! I loved this suggestion though!

Your alarm blares loudly, and you jolt awake before letting a heavy breath out. You reach over, silencing the loud alarm as you know you have to get up and get ready. As much as you craved to sleep in, you couldn’t because you had to get to work on time. You got home later last night due to the case you guys got. Gibbs seemed more irritated and was insistent on getting justice for these female petty officers who have fallen victim.

You get up and quickly get dressed in black yoga pants and a cropped long sleeve white shirt that is almost like spandex. You put your hair up into a ponytail before stuffing your outfit for the rest of the day into the backpack you bring to and from work.

You lock up your house before you begin your normal run to work. It was pretty therapeutic although you do wish you could just drive to work in the mornings. It meant you could leave your house later for work which would be nice.

You reach the familiar Navy building and slow down until you're walking. You get in the building and curse quietly after realizing that you had gotten here about ten minutes later than normal. Gibbs holds the elevator for you, your entire team must have gotten here at the same time.

“Y/N, why don’t you just drive to work instead of run? Surely you have the money to afford a car now.” Tony asks and your cheeks flush red.

“I-erm, well I-I only have my permit. My dad never had time to teach me to drive.” You stutter out, your face growing even more hot in embarrassment.

“Why doesn’t your dad have time to teach you to drive?” He asks, confused.

“Oh…my dad…he wa–he is a Marine. My entire life…he’s been mostly overseas. It’s been me and my aunt and even she wasn’t there a lot because she was a doctor.” You explain quietly.

You were mortified and you just wanted this elevator ride to end, but it seemed like it wasn’t ever going to end.

“So, buy a bike.” Tony says.

“I don’t know how to ride a bike.” You say before you squeeze your eyes shut and sigh.

You heard the familiar headslap as Tony whines, asking Gibbs why he got smacked and you were the first off the elevator, rushing to the restrooms where you go to a stall and start to change. You let a puff of air out and shake your head as you pull the black dress pants up before buttoning the white blouse. You pull on your boots and tie them before walking out of the stall with your bag. You fix your ponytail before spritzing yourself in perfume.

“God, you just had to embarrass yourself.” You grumble, grabbing your face and shaking your head.

You were eager to start working, thankfully they all had disregarded the elevator which was nice. The day passed slowly and you were sitting at your desk even after everyone had gone home. The entire day the elevator conversation seemed to haunt you.

You look at a picture of your father and you frown. He wasn’t around much in your life and when he was, you were to refer to him as “sir” and he would give you life saving lessons, never anything fun in life. You begged and begged for him to teach you to drive, but he said no. He thought that was a fun thing, not something you’d need later in life.

Gibbs stood on the second level, watching you. He could tell that you were embarrassed all day. You tried to hide it from the rest of the team, but he could see right through you. He quietly makes his way behind the bullpen and you sigh.

“Hey dad, do you think bike or driving lessons are useless now?” You mumble as you grab the picture of him.

He frowns, watching you. He casually rounds into the bullpen, hearing your startled gasp. He goes to his desk and works on some files before abruptly looking up.

“Y/L/N?” He asks.

“Yes?” You ask softly.

“How tired are you?” He asks.

“Not tired at all actually.” You say confused.

“Didn’t you say you have a permit?” He asks.

“Erm, yes.” You murmur, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Alright, come on. I’m going to teach you to drive.” He says, grabbing his coat.

Your lips part in surprise and he sends you a grin, walking towards the elevator. You eagerly get up, following him to the elevator as excitement fills you.

You couldn’t believe it…you were officially a licensed driver. You had yourself a car and here you were, sitting in it in the NAVY yard parking lot. This was real.

You knew you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Gibbs. He has taught you several things in the past few weeks like, driving, riding a bike, fishing, how to cook the best steaks, and how to build a boat. This man has been more of a father to you than your own. The bond you have with Gibbs has tripled these past few weeks. On top of that, you always feel a little emotional thinking back on these past few weeks. He didn’t have to help you, yet he did.

“I saw your new ride.” Tony says as you step in the elevator and you blush.

“I’m officially a licensed driver.” You say excitedly.

“That’s good!” He says with a grin.

You walk off the elevator together, heading towards the bullpen and Gibbs looks up at you.

“How’d the driver’s test go?” He asks.

“I passed…got my license and I might’ve finally got myself a car with what I saved up. Look!” You exclaim excitedly, showing him your license and he grins.

“Good job, Y/N/N.” He praises and you smile softly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Gibbs. Thank you so much.” You say.

“Y/N/N, you ain’t alone. We are a family. Don’t ever be afraid to ask for something. My door is always open.” He says, softly smiling at you.

“Literally.” Tony laughs and both of you roll your eyes before you hear a headslap.

You turn back and see Ziva laughing as Tony glares at her. You look back at Gibbs, not before seeing Tim hunched over laughing as Tony tried to make a defense against Ziva. Gibbs had a big grin on his face and you smile, this was your family.

#gibbs #gibbs imagine #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs imagine #jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis fandom #ncis gibbs #ncis imagine #father/daughter #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #ncis team #ncis fanfiction #ncis tony #ncis #ncis x reader #request

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foreverinadais · 2 years

Text

drunk: m.k

summary: after an argument with your boyfriend’s, you all engage in a silent treatment. well, until you get drunk and need jake to pick you up, as well as the others to look after you in your drunken state.

warnings: alcohol use, reader is drunk and in the mood to be a nuisance, sick/vomit, swearing, light angst, fluff!! moon boys taking care of reader, it really goes through the 5 stages of grief in this one

word count: 3.2k :)

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for 400 followers!!!! it’s insane how much support you’ve all shown and i cannot express how much i appreciate it :)

It was around 2 o’clock in the morning when the familiar buzz of a phone echoed around the walls of the flat. It was Jake who awoke to it, cursing under his breath as his eyes refused to open from their interrupted sleep. The buzzing stopped, momentarily offering an ounce of peace which Jake gladly took- until it resumed, a growing insistence in it’s tone which eventually prompted Jake to open his eyes.

The first thing he did was check his watch. Seeing how late, or early, it was suddenly inserted a sense of urgency in him, as he clambered to turn on the lamp beside the bed and roll his body out. The buzzing was still prevalent as Jake finally reached the phone he shared with his alters.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when your face shone on the screen.

You hadn’t called in a couple of days now, neither had he, likely due to a rather explosive, extremely stupid, argument you had gotten in with all of them. It was rather rare to be in an argument with all 3 of your boyfriend’s. But after another squabble about schedules and missions, it was bound to blow up, leading to you leaving and giving the silent treatment. Not that any of them tried to stop you, just as in need of the space and reflection time.

All of you were renowned for your pettiness. Which is why it took Jake a moment to answer the phone. But then, worry settled in as he remembered the time, realised you wouldn’t be calling unless it was absolutely necessary. He didn’t make a move to talk first, figuring you would do that. He was right.

He could hear the muffled booming of music behind you, tacky club sounds that were only tolerable when pissed. Surrounding that, the obnoxious chatter of people Jake could only assume were drunk, all of it moulding into a loud hum in his ears. He cringed in his barely awake state, holding the phone away from his ear briefly before deciding to make his presence known.

“Yeah?”

“Jakeee?” Oh shit. He could automatically tell by your disorientated tone that you were drunk. “ ‘s that you? Jakey?” He felt annoyance rise in him at your nonchalance to the situation, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Yep. Why you calling?” He was being short with you. In your delirious state, you couldn’t tell.

“I need- hiccup – to be p-picked up because ‘m hungry and tireddd and my friend, she left with this girl and I- hello, doggo, your so cute!- need you.” Jake cussed, muttering a few profanities in Spanish before finding words to reply.

“Mierda, fine. Where are you?”

“Ummm I don’t knowww, wait, excuse me? I love your outfit, wait, sorry, where am I? Can you please message it to my boyfriend- wait can I call him that? We’re- hiccup- angry at each other.” Your voice was slurred, desperate, and Jake suddenly felt a sense of worry at your vulnerability.

“Go wait inside, hmm?” Jake said through the phone, putting on some shoes and grabbing his cap and jacket. It was then his phone pinged, and he realised the strangers you had accounted yourself with had sent your location. You were still mumbling to them about the argument, about your flat, about how painful your feet were due to the dancing and stupid shoes you’d decided to wear.

Jake left you on the phone as he got in his cab, not wasting anytime as he started the engine and all but sped to where you were. It didn’t take him long to arrive, the roads empty but streets alive with people looking for a good time on a Saturday night. He spotted you instantly. You were sat on the sidewalk, a woman and her partner next to you. Your head was in your hands as your, now bare, feet gently kicked the gravel. He swore again, partly at the state you were clearly in, but also at the remnants of annoyance he felt from the not forgotten vendetta.

Jake pulled over quickly, cap secured on his head as he exited his cab and made his way over to you. The people who were sat with you clocked him, one of them meeting the distance, explaining how they stayed with you until he got there, and that you were in a ‘pretty bad state.’ Jake thanked them, making the short way over to where you were sat, still not aware of his presence.

“Y/N,” he said simply, now stood in front of you, but you didn’t notice, too lost in the song you were humming under your breath. He sighed, kneeling in front of you, hand reaching out to touch your forearm. “Hey, c’mon, let’s go.” Your head snapped up; eyes droopy as if you had been sleeping.

“Jakeee you’re here!” You exclaimed, practically falling into his kneeling frame, catching him off guard. “Thought you wouldn’t come because you h-hate me now.” His face twisted in confusion.

“What? Your drunk, let’s get you home, c’mon. Look, I’ll help you up, on three.” You sniffled; arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as he helped manoeuvre you both up. You didn’t let go when you were standing, deciding you couldn’t stand. He was reluctant to wrap an arm around your waist, still slightly angry, but more worried it would offend you. But it was clear it was what you needed as you tumbled, shakily attempting to walk to his car- or, rather, a complete stranger’s car. “Fuck, taking too long, just, walk faster.” You did as he said, maybe too literally, as your arms began to get suffocating, as he gripped your waist, helping you both walk to his cab.

You giggled as his hands unknowingly tickled your side when he helped you get into the passengers seat. “Smells funny in here.” You chuckled, taking an exaggerated sniff of the air. Jake knew it was his cigars he snuck, but chose to ignore you, going to shut the door. “WAIT WHERE ARE YOU- DON’T LEAVE ME!!” your sudden rise in volume made him jump, and he came back as soon as he left.

“I’m getting in the car, ay.” Before turning back and saying, “Seatbelt.”

“Nonono I can’t do it, won’t get in the… thingy.” Jake had the sudden urge to kick something, forgetting how frustrating drunk you can be, especially when sober. He exhaled deeply through his nose before muttering a ‘fine.’ You gasped as he leant over you, face awfully close to you own, so much so he could smell the alcohol on your breath. You couldn’t help but chuckle again as his gloved hand came down by your side, fumbling for the seatbelt and eventually getting it in the buckle.

It was then you thought of the most hilarious idea ever. As he went to get back up, you wrapped your arms round his shoulder and pulled him, so he nearly collapsed back down onto your lap. You let out a belly laugh, tears squeezing your eyes as he shouted, “QUE MIERDA!” He got out, shutting the door slightly louder than usual as he strode to his seat in the front. “Always playing, I swear, estúpido when drinking,”

The car was filled with your chuckles, as if Jake had told a joke, but he was deadly silent. What could he say? You were intoxicated. He couldn’t be mad at you right now, not when you wouldn’t remember it. But he didn’t want to be nice to you, still angry, still not ready to put it behind him completely. He was looking forward to get back to the flat where it would become his alters problem.

And truthfully, the smell of your perfume was beginning to intoxicate his senses.

When the flat finally came into view, Jake breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, diminished when he heard your soft snores filling the small space of the cab. He internally cussed at himself, having previously wondered why you had gone suddenly quiet, realising he would not only have to wake you up, but get you inside.

Jake turned the key in the ignition, engine shutting off with a slight groan. He pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, dreading the moments from now until later. “Why has the road stopped moving?” The voice your voice, broke him from his worries, and when he turned to face you, your eyes were already desperately on his.

“Hasn’t, we have. Gotta get out now.”

“W-Wait, your leaving me again? Please don’t leave me here!” Jake felt something in his chest pang with sadness, but he pushed it away, remembering you were drunk and had little control over your heartfelt pleas.

“ ‘m not leaving you, look, we’re getting out the car together, yeah?” He demonstrated opening the door, motioning for you to do the same, and with a small smile of relief, you did. “There ya go.” He praised lightly as you copied his actions. “Now wait there, I’ll come an’ get you.”

“M’kay, Jakey, I’ll wait.” Fuck. The feeling was back in his chest, harder to push away this time. He did, however, ignore it, long enough to reach where you were sat obediently awaiting him. “Your back!” You quipped excitedly, hands reaching for him in a childlike manner. He didn’t answer, instead helped you up, felt goosebumps arise with every touch of your skin, felt his neck burn as your warm breezed over it.

The journey to the flat wasn’t as hard as he had envisioned. Once you got the hang of walking again, you were off, with his support, of course. You had made it to the door, Jake feeling instant relief wash over him as one of his alters promised it would be their turn. “Marc’s turn now, ‘kay? He’s gonna help- hey, listen, did’ya hear me?”

“Yes, Jake.” You try to say but it comes out as a laugh. “Stay safe.” His voice is stern, but the concern is there, hidden amongst the small façade he always has up. And then his eyes are rolling back, and Jake Lockley is gone for the night- instead, Marc’s there, eyes even harder than his alters. He says nothing as he unlocked the door to the flat, pushing it open with his foot as his arm comes around your waist. You hardly react to the contact, allowing him to guide you through the familiar haze of the apartment, the place that so often felt like home, even when all your senses were torn to shreds.

“Marc…” You suddenly let out, and he notices the buzz on your face has diminished, the way it always does by the end of the night.

“What?” He doesn’t mean to be short with you, really. But a part of him, much like Jake, still held a sort of bitterness- as he always has after an argument.

“Feel sick.” His own stomach drops as he springs into action, cussing loudly as he all but rushes you to the bathroom. Your cheeks are dramatically puffed with air as you gag, Marc barely getting you to the toilet in time before your spilling the remnants of the night into the basin. He sighed, one hand on firmly on your shoulder, helping hold you up, and the other rubbing soft circles on your back.

“C’mon, there you go, get it all out.” You do, until your insides are aching, and head is pounding. Finally, the sick ends. You practically fall backward, Marc barely catching you as he guides you to lean against the wall, figuring that would be an easier task than standing you back up.

“Hurts.” You whisper, burying your face in your hands, knees to your chest. “Your head?” Marc asks, but he already knows that’s the answer.

“My heart.” Oh. He turned to look at you, properly, for the first time since you came into the flat; you look terrible. Your top is hanging off your body, the action of leaning over the basin making it scramble to stay on right. Your mascara is smudged from tears. Your eyes are struggling to stay open, drooping further by the minute, and your hair has become a mess on top of your head.

Yet, Marc can’t help but think you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

No matter what situation you all found yourselves in, he would always think that. Always.

When he next spoke, the edge to his voice was gone, replaced with a layer of sympathy and compassion- not that you noticed, nor particularly cared. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He helped you stand up on your feet, trying to ignore your soft sniffles as you came down form the high of a night out. He couldn’t help but swipe a tear away from your cheek, leaving his thumb for a second longer than he knew he should, just to revel in your skin.

He started by wiping off as much of your make-up as he could, using one of the wipes you had stocked in his cupboard. When he turned on the tap, you groaned. “Hey, it’s okay, look, it’ll help your headache.”

“Noo, ‘s cold.”

“It’ll feel nice.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Pinkie promise?” Marc rolled his eyes as you held up your pinkie finger but didn’t refuse it. Instead, he interlocked his own with yours, grateful to see a least the hint of a smile tugging at the end of your lips. The water did ,in fact, offer some comfort from the heat and sweat on your skin, and you thanked Marc for keeping his promise. “Good job. Wanna brush your teeth?”

“You still have my toothbrush.” It was the first coherent sentence you had said in a while. He followed to where you were pointing, your toothbrush stood proudly with the boys. “Course, we do. It’s only been a few days.” “Thought you’d throw it away by now.”

“What d’you mean?”

“That you don’t love me anymore.” Marc swore his heart broke a little. His thoughts became jumbled, swirling around each other as he took in your words.

“What… are you, are you serious?”

“Can you do it for me?”

“Huh?” It took a moment for him to register what you were asking until you grabbed your toothbrush and held it out for him.

“Please?” Perhaps it was your pleading, or your eyes whilst saying it, but Marc couldn’t resist, taking the toothbrush and getting it ready. It was silly, really silly, especially since your mouth was already open as wide as it could be, teeth on display. Marc cleared his throat, debating on whether this was a task he wanted to do, before deciding the sooner he did, the sooner you could go to sleep. And so, he did.

You didn’t react at first, not even when Marc talked you through the first step. But suddenly, you found the situation rather amusing, a giggle leaving your lips as Marc brushed your back teeth. “What?” You didn’t respond at first, just laughed, and he found himself laughing too.

“’s weird.” You whispered, a hiccup escaping your mouth as Marc agreed.

“Certainly didn’t think I’d be doing this tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Sorry that I ruined your plans.”

“Yeah, well, your lucky I love you.” It came out so naturally, without question, that even in your drunken state, you knew he meant it. It was silent for the rest of the minute. When you were done, Marc told you to spit, which you did immediately. Marc suddenly realised what you were wearing. “Oh shit, wait here, lemme get you some clothes.”

“But I’m wearing clothes.”

“Clothes to sleep in.”

“…oh.” You said suggestively, and Marc raised an eyebrow.

“Stop messin’ around, need to get you changed.”

“Okay, Marc.”

“You gonna wait here?”

“Whatever you say, Marc.” His heart dropped every time you said his name, as if it were given a different meaning every time it left your lips. He was back quickly with one of the tops from the draw you had in their flat, the one he knew was your favourite.

“Arms up, baby.” The name slipped out, but you didn’t notice- it might’ve well as been your name from him. You obliged, silent now. He was grateful that the task didn’t take long, and soon enough, you were dressed comfortably. “All done.” He muttered, mostly to himself, but you smiled, reaching for his hand.

“Thank you, Marc.” He let his thumb rub over the skin of your palm, let his eyes lock with yours, pupils dilated. And then it wasn’t his eyes you were staring at anymore. “Hello, Steven.” You whispered, smiling.

“Hiya, lovie. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He had already helped you up, hand still holding yours as he directed you the short distance to the bed.

“Why, Mr Grant, are you trying to get me into bed?”

“Very funny. C’mon, your very tired, practically fallin’ asleep walking, eh? Besides, your much too drunk to do anything expect from sleep peacefully. Look, I’ll tuck you in so you can do just that.” Steven pulled the duvet back for you to climb into the bed, and you instantly found comfort in their smell, the sheets that moulded against your body so well. It was familiar, it was home.

Steven kept his promise, pulling the duvet tightly over your body so that it was hugging you. He even went as far as lifting your head up with one hand plumping the pillow behind it, before gently placing it back down. “All better.” He muttered, proud at his work of making you a human cocoon.

“Thank you, Steven.”

“Your very welcome. Do you need anything?” You shook your head, eyes already closing from the undeniable comfort of the sheets.

“Okay. Welp, if you change your mind, gimme a shout, okay? I’ll just be on the sofa.” Your eyes shot back open, realisation hitting as you felt his presence leaving your side.

“No, wait, w-where are you going? Why are you leaving me?” Your eyes were getting watery as your hand reached out to tug on Steven’s shirt.

“No-no-no, ‘m not leaving you, would never leave you… I’m just over there, look.” You didn’t glance as he tried to show you the sofa, eyes trained on his own.

“Please…can you stay with me?” His eyes widened slightly, not sure if he should, not sure if you would wake up and be mad at him for staying in the same bed after not being on speaking terms. But the pout on your lips, the gentle tug on his shirt, the tears in your eyes… he agreed, slowly getting into the bed next to you.

He was surprised when you instantly snuck out his warmth, snuggling into his side and breathing a sigh of relief. His arms sought place on your frame- one over your shoulders, the other stroking the back of your neck. He thought you were asleep when your breathing got heavier, until your voice spoke again.

“Steven?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you angry at me?” He smiled, shaking his head, though you couldn’t see.

“No, love.”

“Really?”

“Course not. It’s in the past, yeah? Let’s just focus on getting you rested and better.”

“So you’ll stay with me?”

“All night long ‘till the sun comes up.”

“Steven?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Thank you for taking care ‘f me.”

“Of course, love.” And he smiled as he heard your gentle snores, feeling on the cusp of sleep himself. “Always.”

tags: @dalia-12-3 @kotonei-molyneux @lovepeaceorelse @lokilover476 @alexxavicry @later-gators12

#Moon Knight #moon knight imagine #moon knight angst #moon knight ff #moon knight fluff #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockely #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #fluff #angst

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

Hiii!!! You are so talented I love the way you write, I seriously could read your fics for days. Was hoping I could request something with Eddie where like him and reader have been friends for a long time but recently there’s all this ~tension~ and then the reader catches Eddie touching himself and he thinks he’s alone so he’s moaning her name and all bets are off 🫣🫣 (this is pure filth I’m sorry)

author’s note: i'm sorry to whoever sent this that it took so long, but i finally had the surge of motivation to write it and hope it isn't too bad, so enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), accidental voyeurism turned non-accidental, masturbation (male), leaded orgasm/orgasm denial, established friendship, they're both so sexually frustrated with each other, this also take place is the woods so it's technically open to the public? but no one's around, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

Eddie’s fist hits the table in frustration, chipped wood flying up in protest, the dilapidated picnic table near its last leg on this earth—it was a wonder it could still hold that weight of someone without stalling in half. Eddie sighs heavily, climbing up the seat to plop himself on top, hands moving to rest behind him, helping him stay upright but reclined enough to allow him to relax.

He couldn’t fucking stand it anymore; the sight of you.

It seemed arbitrary and petty, but it was becoming a problem. You’d found just about every possible way to get under his skin, pressing all the right buttons to set him off. It hadn’t always been that way either, only recently—one long night at Hellfire, a heated argument that had nothing to do with the actual game and ended up cutting the campaign short. Eddie bid everyone a clipped and dismissive wave that night, shooing them off in annoyance.

You’ve always been friends, that hadn’t changed, but it didn’t take long for him to notice the small changes; switching up your outfits for something a little more risque, openly flirting with others in front of him—which shouldn’t bother him, but it definitely does. He hates when you ask him for advice, not that he would be much help, but because he doesn’t want to give you semblance of an idea that you should go off and wrap yourself up with someone—not with how desperately he wanted to be with you—he wasn’t sure he’d ever find the courage to tell you that, though.

Anyways, the night before was what finally set him off—tired of your antics and comments, the subtle, teasing touches you’d leave against his skin in passing—normally you’d sit across from him, several feet away, but you switched with Dustin that night, perched right beside him.

Eddie sat back in his felt throne, fingers talking against the arm of the chair. You knock his foot gently, sending him a warm smile, eyes creasing at the corners. The one he returns is forced, bubbling with annoyance. He was a fuse set to blow and he surely did.

To you, it didn’t make sense. Eddie spent so much time on his music, Hellfire, and everything else that seemed more interesting than you—and sure, it was; but your friendship felt like it had been shifted to the back burner lately.

It’s part of the reason why you started to branch out, knowing that your advances would never be noticed—Eddie too wrapped up in his own problems that it seemed pointless; he had a lot to deal with and you were the last thing on his mind, or so you thought.

You both were running in circles when all you needed to do was talk—you were two incredibly stubborn individuals.

He thinks about lighting up the joint tucked behind his ear, wondering if it will ease the anxiety he felt, it still didn’t feel like enough. His legs widen slightly, feet planted on the bench of the table. He half hesitates on the idea of rubbing one out, knowing that it could satiate the running thoughts in his brain if he just tried; allow the cloudy haze of pleasure to wash over him.

Fuck it—no one ever comes out here, anyways. It wasn’t the first time and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

He palms himself over the front of his jeans lightly, soft dick hardening at the touch, almost to full mast after a few long drags of his open hand, head hanging back slightly as he breathed out.

All he had to do was picture you and he was done for. You were the only thing he pictured anymore, the cheesy porno mags never enough anymore—not after he got caught in your trap, stuck on the idea of you.

He always pictured you underneath him, sometimes bound by your hands, cuffs pulled tight to keep you from moving, moans loud and desperate as he pounded into you, almost relentless—but sometimes it was slow, and he wondered how you hands would feel wondering his body, allowing you to discover new things about him that you were previously oblivious to; how he liked to be touch or what kinds of noises he made when your hand came to wrap around his dick.

It was all a sick fantasy.

˚ · • . ° .

You didn’t normally come out to Eddie’s spot that often, knowing how he liked to keep the secrecy to his customers and leave prying eyes out of the equation—he didn’t need to end up in prison before graduating. Wayne would surely murder him.

But, you felt guilty, wanting the pointless arguing and fights to be done—you just wanted your friend back, knowing that was all he’d ever be. You could settle for that, having Eddie in any sense was all that mattered to you.

The wet leaves are like mush underneath your steps, forming around and sticking to your shoes—you figure it’s smarter to be quiet than loud, knowing that there were still students a half a mile away, sure to hear the scream that Eddie would let out if you ran up on him—when you’re finally through the thick brush of trees and stray branches, you spot him.

He’s relaxed, back to you, probably fiddling with the zipper of his denim jacket or twisting at the frayed lace of his shoe—Eddie enjoyed being alone, as much as he surrounded himself with friends at school.

You hear a small noise, wondering if he’s talking to himself—your steps are timid, almost questioning your own movements as you grow closer. His head falls back, a mess of curls dangling, begging to be tugged at.

And then he moans—steady and unashamed, but then you hear your name, and that definitely isn’t a trick. You heard it, you saw the way his lips curled around the word. He shifts further and you can see the way he’s tugging at himself, bare dick in his hands, caught in small wordless gasp as his thumb swipes against the underside of his cock, dragging slowly over the tip.

You gasp involuntarily, hand clasping over your mouth in shock. Eddie scrambled at the noise, fear of being caught finally coming true, his heart palpated in panic, the tinge of pain evident as he turned to look behind him, dark eyes falling on you.

Of course—out of everyone, it had to be you.

“Fuck—“ He sounds wrecked, it should turn you on as much as it does, legs clenching together slightly, “what the hell are you doing out here?”

His words come out like venom, clenched teeth and tense jaw. He was still upset, clearly. This was a mistake. You stutter for a response, still trying to process what was happening.

Eddie hadn’t even made much of an attempt to move, hand barely covering himself, not a single try at making himself decent—he’s just staring, waiting for an answer.

“I—I came to apologize,” You offer weakly, “But, I mean—clearly you aren’t mad anymore—“

He’d said your name, you think. You weren’t hallucinating.

“So, what, you like sneaking up on people now?”

Your brows furrow in annoyance, “What? No. You’re the one jerking off in the middle of the fucking woods—you want to talk about that?”

Eddie pulls back at your words, watching you as you take several steps near him, far too close for comfort, not with his dick still heavy in his hands.

“Needed to let off some steam,” He offers weakly, trying to seem dismissive, “how much did you see?”

All of it.

“Enough,” You tell him, eyes glancing toward where his hands covered himself, wondering why you were the name that left his mouth as he felt himself up, the boldness overtakes you, the chance to tease him even further was too good of an opportunity to pass up, “you do that often?”

“What?”

“Think about me?” You laugh softly at the idea, but Eddie doesn’t appreciate it.

It wasn’t a joke to him.

“You askin’ me to be honest with you?”

You nod confidently, arms crossed over your chest.

“All the time.” He admits—and it feels good to admit that, tired of forcing it down all the time.

You don’t know what to say, eyes caught between his heated gaze and the hands covering his noticeable hard dick, still having not let up—if anything, it was worse.

“Well—are you just gonna keep standing there?” Eddie asks with an amused look, the edge of his mouth pulling upwards in a smirk. “Or, do you wanna help?”

“What?”

“That’s why you’re still standing there, isn’t it?”

And it was a good fucking question—but, you knew exactly why. As shameful as it felt, you wanted him to continue; you wanted to watch him fall apart to the idea of you, your name falling from his lips one more time.

“That’s what I thought,” Eddie chides, taking note of the way your eyes connect with his, a silent confirmation that you wanted this just as badly as he did, “come here.”

He nods to the area next time and your feet move faster than you can process, nearly scrambling to his side.

“You just wanna watch?” He asks softly, “Or?”

Touch me—he can’t bring himself to say the words, afraid that he might be dreaming this.

“Can I?” You ask timidly, hand coming up to rest against his inner thigh, his hands rubbing against his stiff erection.

He nods furiously, moving his own hands to allow yours to take over—he’s warm and heavy in your hands, your fingers wrapping around the width of him and pulling a few times.

You’ve only done this a few times, still, it felt odd. You weren’t sure what he liked or what he wanted, he wasn’t very vocal—at the moment, at least.

“Like this,” He instructs, realizing your hesitation. His large hand wraps around your own, setting a steady, tight pace against his cock, tugging at the length of his dick in earnest. He sighs outwardly, head falling back once again. His chest heaves, neck reddening in a deep blush, “fuck—yeah, that’s it.”

Selfishly, you really wanted to just watch—watch him fall apart by his own doing, like he originally planned to. He notices the perplexed look on your face, so mesmerized by his hand working against your own, joints flexing underneath the skin.

“What’s wrong?” He forced out, eyes half lidded as he looked over at you. “Do you want to stop?”

You shake your head honestly, letting the words fall from your lips quietly, “I—I do wanna watch you.”

“Like, you wanna watch me jerk off?” The absurdity of the question has him chuckling into his fist, allowing you to pull your own hand away. “Really?”

He wasn’t judging—definitely not. He was the last person on earth to ever think about doing that.

“Yeah,” You say timidly, “Just…act like I'm not here, you know?”

“I don’t think that’s possible, sweetheart.” He says endearingly, hands returning to his own dick instinctively, begging to ease that ache. “But, I’ll try.”

You watch eagerly, enraptured at how easily he falls back into a rhythm, licking at the palm of his hand to allow for an easy glide of his hand, the friction almost overwhelming as he continues his movements, eyes falling shut.

“Fuck—“ He curses, a small grunt slipping out in weakness, eyes squeezing shut as he squeezes harder, tugging himself at a quick, hurried pace—allowing himself to reach the edge, nearly, before squeezing the base of himself, cutting the feeling short, “—sorry, this is kinda new to me.”

“What?”

“Being watched,” He points out, eyes opening to connect with yours. It has his dick twitching in his hands, sending a pulse straight to your cunt, “it’s not bad, though.”

If you weren't so ashamed for watching, you’d join him—but, this was for him; a punishment, even, for being so difficult with you all the time.

“Wanna try something?” Eddie asks curiously, voice strained.

You nod nervously, wondering where his wild brain was attempting to take this.

“Tell me when to stop and I will, it doesn't matter if I’m about to come or not.” He instructs, “I’ll listen to you.”

“Oh—okay,” You answered hesitantly, watching as he continued at a slow place, listening for your voice, “sped up—a little.”

He laughs softly, the swift tugs at his dick as he squeezes gently at the head forcing desperate noises to fall from his mouth, something you thought you’d never have the chance to hear.

It’s glorious.

After a while, you perk up, “Faster,” You say quietly, and he obeys immediately, working himself over quickly, his chest rising and falling rapidly, shirt rising up to show the soft, smooth expanse of his lower stomach and the soft patch of hair that led to his groin—you want to reach out and touch him, it’s almost instinctual. Eddie whines on a particular flick of his wrist, mouth open in a deep groan as he almost allows himself that release, only for you to stop him dead in his tracks again, “Stop.” Your voice is steady, surprising both of you.

Eddie laughs in anguish, “I knew you’d be into this,” He teases, his hooded gaze catching your own, “dunno how much longer I can listen, though—really wanna come, sweetheart.”

You reach forward to squeeze gently at his arm, indulging in the earlier thought of wanting to touch him—there was no time like now, letting your hand slide over the expanse of his stomach, feeling the muscle flex against your hand. He watched carefully, eyes stuck on the movement of your hand.

It’s your touch that sets him off, the soft lilt of your voice as you whisper into his ear, “Then come.” You tell him.

And he does, too quickly, tugging at his dick until he’s spilling over his hand and against his stomach, and in turn, your own hand, as you couldn’t be bothered to move—too mesmerized by his face as he reaches his release. His teeth grit together, eyes struggling to stay open as his orgasm hits him hard and intense, worse than he’s ever felt before. He moans out, nearly convulsing at the peak of it all, panting deeply on the descent back down, laughing exasperatingly.

“Jesus Christ,” He sighs tiredly, motioning to the handkerchief in his back pocket, “you mind?”

You laugh quietly, pulling at the small square of material stuffed in his back pocket to hand over, letting him carefully clean up the mess that covered your fingers—a little too lovingly, lingering on the casual touches of his fingers dragging against your own—you weren’t sure why that was what felt the most intimate out of all this.

“So, are you still mad at me?” He asks curiously, knowing the perfect remedy to breaking the tension. “Because if you are, this is pretty awkward.”

“Depends.” You respond teasingly.

“On?”

“If we get to do that again.”

Eddie smiles wide, allowing himself to look somewhat presentable again, tugging at his zipper as he buttoned his pants back up. “You free this weekend then?”

You nod furiously.

“Good,” His smile turns devilish, like he’s on to something, “You're next.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfic

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gogogodzilla · 6 months

Text

day 27, sensory deprivation

wanda maximoff x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, reader calls wanda mommy, slight dubcon, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, more plot than porn, im sorry yall i got carried away, continuation of day 13 kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

You hunch over the kitchen sink as the steady thrum behind your temples refuses to cease. Ever since Halloween, you have been getting these sharp pains that radiated throughout your skull, not to mention the visions.

You see hallucinations of yourself or someone who looks like you, living another life. You see yourself wearing that same outfit that you did on Halloween fighting monsters that you can’t even begin to describe and robots, out of all things. You see yourself lounging around with people who you think are your friends drinking and attempting to lift a hammer of sorts.

The visions come in quick flashes that leave you sick to your stomach and disoriented afterward. Slowly, you regain your senses enough to straighten. The sounds of Billy and Tommy’s video game and them rapidly pushing the buttons on their controllers fill your ears as you get your bearings. You’re right where you’re supposed to be.

Suddenly, they call for you. You hurry to right yourself, trailing a hand soothingly over your temple before you venture into the living room.

“Our game keeps changing,” Tommy complains as you watch as the controllers are surrounded by red, pixelated energy every few moments and change in their hands. You raise a brow, at a loss for words.

Before you can even begin to offer an answer, the twins are off running upstairs. “Boys!” you call, but they’re already gone. You chase after them, your footsteps echoing on the stairs.

“Mom, our game is freaking out!” you hear Billy exclaim as they rush into your bedroom.

“Is she asleep?” Tommy asks as you reach your bedroom door.

Wanda’s voice is muffled as she replies, “Mommy’s not sleeping, honey. She’s just resting her eyes.”

You rest a hand on either of the boy’s shoulders, “What did I say about letting mommy rest? I told you she’s not feeling well.”

Billy turns to face you, rubbing his temples, “But, my head feels weird. It’s, like, really noisy. I don’t like it.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “My head’s been feeling a little funny, too,” you murmur before ushering the boys out of your bedroom. “It’s okay, honey, let’s let mommy rest, and we can find something for your head.”

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, your vision blurs for a moment and you blink rapidly. You’re sitting on the living room couch with no one in front of you. You find yourself talking to an invisible presence.

“I’m not sure what’s happening to me,” a mix of a sigh and a laugh leaves you. “Wanda is bedbound, and I have two boys to take care of. I don’t what I’m doing, but I do know that they don’t need to see here like this.”

Your vision blurs again and the next thing you know you’re standing at the bottom of the stairs, right where you were. You stumble a little bit, as you shake your head slightly.

As your vision clears, you notice the boys tugging a Wii remote between the two of them, arguing.

“I got to it first!” Tommy grunts, attempting to pull the controller toward himself.

“You always get to it first!” Billy counters.

You take a step between them grabbing the controller. “Boys,” you hiss, “now is not the time for petty arguments. At least wait until I’ve had my coffee for today, please.”

Tommy clings to your side, “We’ll be good.”

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of his head, “Thank you, honey.”

Movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention and you turn toward the stairs. Wanda shuffles down the stairs, wearing one of your old t-shirts, sweatpants, and a robe. You’re not quite sure how you know it’s your shirt. Billy and Tommy share a look, confusion evident on their faces. Billy shrugs before turning his gaze toward you.

You follow Wanda into the kitchen, watching as she sets the jug of milk on the counter and retrieves a box of cereal out of the cabinet. She pauses as the jug flickers with the same pixelated red energy and changes into a carton.

“Honey, what’re you doing?” you question as you stand on the other side of the counter. Wanda sniffs her spoonful of cereal before bringing it to her mouth.

“Cereal,” she answers as the milk flickers and changes once again.

She shuffles out into the living room and you follow closely. She takes a seat between the boys, and a knock sounds at your door. You take a few steps toward the front door, but Wanda raises her hand and red tendrils surround the door and open it.

“Hi, Agnes,” she calls as Agnes enters your home. “I’d get up,” she says as she begins to laugh, “but I just don’t want to.”

Agnes’s eyes dart from the back of Wanda’s head to yours, and you grimace. She rounds the couch and you follow her, “Hey, boys, why don’t we give your parents some me time?”

Wanda straightens and gasps softly, “Agnes are you sure?”

“Oh, abso-positively,” Agnes beams, reaching a hand out to the boys.

“Do we have to?” Tommy groans as he nears Agnes.

Both you and Wanda nod. You needed to figure out what was going on with her and be there for her. You couldn’t do that if you were looking after the boys and making sure they didn’t destroy your house.

You shoo them along, “It’s okay, boys, I’ll take care of mommy. You go and have fun with Agnes.”

Agnes chuckles, “I promise, I won’t bite.”

And with that, they’re gone. It feels like it’s been years since you’ve been alone with Wanda, even though you were with her all of last night. You take a seat beside her on the couch and set a gentle hand on her thigh.

“Are you doing okay, my love?” you ask, gaze soft as you turn to look at her.

She flicks on the TV with a grin, “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

As soon as she answers the potted plant begins flashing just like Billy and Tommy’s game and just like the milk jug. Next is the fireplace and then the TV. Wanda straightens as the various items in your living room begin rapidly changing. With a flick of her wrist, all the items are back as they once were.

“Why don’t we go upstairs and relax? Everything seems a bit… distracting down here,” you suggest as you stand. You hold out your hand for her to take, and she hesitates for just a moment. “C’mon, let me take care of you,” you urge, shaking your hand slightly.

Wanda grasps your hand and you lead her up to your bedroom. Memories of the last time you were here flood your mind, and the thoughts lingering in your mind make your cheeks flush.

You turn to face Wanda, and it appears as if she had the same line of thought as her gaze drifts to the bed, left messy from her groggy exit this morning. Wanda tugs her robe off and throw it to the other side of the room.

You gently grab her hand and usher her toward the bed. The backs of her thighs hit the edge of the bed and she sits, allowing you to tower over her.

You tuck a loose strange of red hair behind her ear, “It’s going to be okay, love.”

She leans into your touch, humming a bit, “You know, I’m usually the one taking care of you.”

“You think you can let me take the reins today?” you ask, grinning.

She pretends to think it over before sighing, “I think I would like that.”

You reach into the bedside drawer and are pleasantly surprised to find exactly what you were looking for. You pull out a silk blindfold and silk restraints, holding them up for Wanda to see. She nods, wordlessly giving you permission to have your way with her.

She lifts her arms so you can tie them up, and your fingers work expertly as they secure her wrists to the headboard. You aren’t sure how your hands know what to do, it’s almost like muscle memory. You reach for the blindfold and gently pull her hair out of its ponytail so you can wrap the blindfold around her head.

“You’re gonna let me know if it’s too much?” you ask as you straddle her waist.

She nods, “I trust you, baby.”

You hum before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It’s sensual and sweet— the exact opposite of the thoughts that are currently running through your mind. Desire courses through your veins as you deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue across her bottom lip and ravishing the inside of her mouth.

You groan at the taste of her, sweet like the cereal she had earlier. You pull away, just for a moment, to trail kisses down the side of her, loving the little gasps that leave her.

You slide down her body, trailing your hands over her breasts and down her abdomen. You hook your fingers into the waistband of her sweats, looking up at her through your lashes. She gives a curt nod, sensing your silent request for approval.

In one swift motion, you relieve her of her pants and underwear, leaving her bare. You gasp at the sight as heat pools in your belly. You situate yourself between her thighs, flushing as they automatically spread for you.

“So pretty, mommy,” you whisper, your breath fanning across her core. Her breath catches in her throat as she bucks her hips. You wrap your arms around her thighs, keeping her steady as you press kisses along the insides of her thighs.

She whines as you avoid everywhere except where she needs you.

“Don’t make me beg, baby,” she pants, a hint of warning dancing in her tone. She could easily flip the script and have you be the one begging. All it would take is a flick of her wrist and your reality would change.

The thought causes you to freeze just for a moment. Your… reality?

You’re drawn back into the moment by Wanda bucking her hips in your direction, and you’re reminded of the task at hand.

You run a soothing hand over her thigh, “I’m sorry, mommy. I’ll make you feel better. I promise.”

You press some final kisses before latching your lips onto her core, swiping your tongue through her folds. She tastes exquisite, and you can’t get enough of her. You eagerly lap at her core, taking in all of her. You dip your tongue into her entrance, loving the way she clenches around you.

Those perfect little whines and gasps were escaping her as your mouth worked its magic. You slide a hand up and under her shirt, kneading her breasts and relishing how soft her skin is under your fingertips. You rolled the pliable bud of her nipple through your fingers, eliciting a whine from her.

You slide the index finger of your free hand through her folds, coating it in her slick. You languidly sink your finger into her entrance and then pump it just as slowly. She groans as she throws her head back against the pillow.

You latch your lips onto her clit as you add another finger, increasing your pace. You swirl your tongue around her clit in a way that has her arching her back and whining. You curl your fingers inside her and reach that spongy spot that had her toes curling.

“Love that pretty little mouth of yours, baby,” she whines, clenching against you.

With one final thrust of your fingers, she’s cumming around you, a high-pitched mewl leaving her lips. Her hips rut against you, sending your fingers even deeper inside her. As she cums, red tendrils rush out of her and swirl around the two of you. The room changes rapidly around you, and your vision goes black.

You were a black widow. Natasha Romanoff rescued you from the Red Room, and you became an Avenger. You met Wanda when Ultron lifted Sokovia out of the sky and changed your life completely. Your life was never the same after that, and you’d been by her side ever since. That was until Thanos came and ripped your entire life apart at the seams. He took Wanda from you, and you wanted him dead. You grieved her for those five years, and you grieved everyone you lost afterward. The pain was too great, and Wanda wasn’t the same afterward. You couldn’t do it. She created this idyllic life for you. To keep the pain and the grief and the heartache from hurting you. To keep you with her.

You shake your head and blink rapidly. Your head is pressed against the plush of Wanda’s thighs, and you slowly lift your head. She was still coming down from her high and you remove your fingers from her, earning a sigh from her in return. Slowly, you go through the motions of untying her restraints and removing her blindfold.

She blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to the midday light shining through your bedroom window. You press your lips to her, attempting to convey all the emotions that were swirling through your mind.

She cups your cheek, and her eyebrows furrow as she looks over you, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Is this real?”

She straightens, “What do you mean?”

“Please, Wanda,” you beg as your throat tightens, “how did I get here? What’s happening?” She stands and begins throwing her clothes back on, avoiding your gaze. You stand along with her, watching as she moves throughout the bedroom. “Please, just tell me. I won’t be mad, I swear.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she states as she heads out your bedroom door. You follow after her, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.

“I love you, and I don’t care how you made this possible. But, I deserve to know,” you pleaded with her as she walked into the kitchen.

She retrieved a cup from the cabinet, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I told you, I don’t understand what happening and why I can’t fix it,” she says, exasperated as she throws her hands up.

“Wanda!” someone calls as they enter your home. You both straighten as you turn to the front door. Monica comes running into your house, panting.

“What are you doing?” Wanda hisses as she rounds the corner of the counter and steps in front of you.

“Wanda…”

“How did you get in here?”

“Listen to me,” Monica holds up her hands. “This whole thing is about them,” Monica started, pointing to you.

“Get out of my house,” Wanda demands, rage burning in her eyes.

“Hayward was trying to bring them—”

“Don’t talk to me about that. Don’t talk to me about my family,” Wanda orders as red tendrils wrap around Monica and push her out of your house. “I don’t want to hear about it.”

You follow as Wanda lifts Monica into the air for all the neighborhood to see. You are stunned as you watch their interaction play out. You don’t think you’ve seen this anger in Wanda before.

“The drones, the missiles, Pietro?” Wanda questions, lifting Monica higher in the air.

“No, wait, Pietro, no, no, no, that wasn’t us,” Monica stammers.

“All you do is lie!” Wanda shouts as she throws Monica toward the ground.

You rush forward, ready to catch Monica, but she halts her descent. Blue energy rushes out from the ground as she lands and looks up at Wanda with electric blue eyes. Wanda lets out a gasp and grabs your bicep, yanking you behind her.

Monica straightens as she stares down Wanda, “The only lies I’ve told are the ones you put in my mouth.”

A red ball of energy appears in Wanda’s hand, and the air seems to shift. “Careful what you say to me,” she warns.

“Don’t let him make you the villain,” Monica urges, an unspoken understanding of who they’re talking about passing between them.

The ball of energy brightens in her hand and she raises her brows, “Maybe I already am.”

You’re about to step in when Agnes rushes over, “Young lady, I think you overstayed your welcome. They’ve been through enough.”

She wraps an arm around you, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. She looped her other arm through Wanda’s and began to tug the two of you away.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Monica began.

“Run along dear,” Agatha urges as you begin to walk toward her house.

“Wanda, you have to take it down,” Monica calls, pleading with her.

“No,” Wanda snaps, turning to point at Monica. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

Your thoughts are racing as you get tugged away by Agnes. Wanda wraps a protective hand around your waist and pulls you closer. What have you gotten yourself into?

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #wanda x you #wandavision #scarlet witch #agatha harkness #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #no y/n #reader insert #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #wanda maximoff smut #mommy wanda

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writemekpop · 1 year

Text

Shotgun Fiancé | Kim Doyoung

Summary: Your boyfriend tells his parents you’re engaged. You have to play along….

Genre: Established relationship AU, angsty, suggestive at the end

Word Count: 0.7k

KNOCK KNOCK

You stand in front of Doyoung's door, heart racing.

It's Doyoung's family reunion, and as his girlfriend of three years, you are expected to attend.

Doyoung pulls the door open. You twirl, expecting him to compliment your outfit, and maybe kiss away your nerves.

But he doesn't compliment you. He doesn't even smile. Doyoung just grabs your arm and pulls you into the house.

"Just play along," Doyoung said through gritted teeth. You had just arrived to meet his family.

"What do you m-"

"Y/n, darling, you're here!" Doyoung’s mother pulled you in for a tight hug, her perfume sickly sweet.

"Congratulations!" she said, pinching your cheeks.

You glance at Doyoung, confused, but he's gnawing at his fingernail and avoiding your gaze.

"Congratulations for what?"

Doyoung's mother shook her head, laughing. "For your engagement, silly!"

Your mouth fell open.

Doyoung laughed loudly and swung his arm over your shoulder. "And that's the face she made when I proposed!"

When his mother was out of earshot, you turned to him.

"Engaged? What the hell?"

Doyoung rolled his eyes. "I needed something. My brother made partner at his law firm. And ran a marathon for some stupid orphan charity." Doyoung scowled. "Brown noser."

"And you had to get engaged?"

Doyoung shrugged. "My parents are eating it up. Plus, a girlfriend is like the one thing Johnny doesn’t have. Just fake it.”

Despite how petty Doyoung was being, your heart fluttered at the thought of being Doyoung's fiancé… even a fake one.

"And when we're you going to tell me about this?"

"I just thought of it an hour ago!" Doyoung whined. "Come on, baby. You can fake it, can't you?"

You winked. "I guess I have some experience in faking it."

Doyoung shot you a look. "One more thing." He grabbed your left hand and slid a diamond ring on your fourth finger. It fit perfectly.

You gasped. "Where did you get this?"

"Some great aunt – while Miracle Child got the 24 karat gold ring from my mother, I was stuck with this one. No surprises there.”

Linking your arms together, you walked into the living room and faced your audience.

---

At the end of the night, you were exhausted.

You and Doyoung slumped side by side on his bed, too tired to change out of your fancy clothes.

You'd just spent the last three hours being congratulated by virtual strangers. You'd had to make up stories about how he proposed, how your family reacted, what wedding China you would pick out…

A single tear trickled down your cheek. You sniffed.

Doyoung, who was lying with his eyes closed, turned towards you.

"Hey, what’s wrong?"

"I don't know," you said, roughly swiping away your tears.

Doyoung touched your arm lightly, but you shrugged him off and jumped off the bed.

"This is a bit... much, Doyoung. I’m going to stay at mine tonight."

You twisted the ring on your finger, trying to pull it off. But it wouldn't budge. A burst of pain shot up your hand.

"Fuck!"

Doyoung jumped off the bed and took your hands in his. Gently, he pulled the ring off your finger.

Your breaths slowed.

Doyoung pressed his forehead against yours and shut his eyes. "I'm sorry I sprung that fake engagement on you. It wasn't cool."

You hummed in agreement.

"I love you, Y/n. And you know… I want it all. Two kids, the little cottage on the edge of town, the minivan…”

You couldn't help but smile. "I want that too. Just… leave the proposal to me next time, alright?”

Doyoung grinned "Hell yeah. I want to be pampered. Flowers, chocolates, candles… treat me like a princess."

"That there - is why I love you."

You pulled Doyoung in for a kiss, still laughing as your lips met.

Doyoung would make the perfect husband.

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

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wavyinterludee · 8 months

Text

Better Than Me

ex-wife!dina woodward x fem!reader

summary: your date goes to shit, and you can only think of one person to call. content/warnings: r and dina are newly divorced and have a daughter (sorry jj ily), she lives with reader primarily, r is kinda mean maybe? (not really) dina is a sweetheart, they still love each other a whole lot, fluffy ending. word count: ± 1700 a/n: idk man. gif not mine, all credits to original creator.

You never would've expected your life to turn out the way it did, but you wouldn't change a thing about it. You had a nice house in a good neighborhood and an income steady enough for both you and your daughter to live comfortably. Speaking of; your daughter was without a doubt the biggest blessing in your life, even if she was constantly keeping you on your toes.

When people would talk about their toddlers being mouthy or hyperactive, you'd always just assume they were being a bit dramatic, but after experiencing the wrath of a once three-year-old yourself, you could confidently say that they were in fact not being dramatic at all.

Yes, she was a handful, but you loved her more than anything. Your house reflected that easily; every corner and wall littered with photos of her in every stage in her life. Recently, a few extras were hung to replace the wedding photos that were once also proudly on display.

Looking back, it might've been a bit petty of you, but you were hurting at the time, and it wasn't like Dina had photos of you hanging around in her apartment. Not that you knew of, anyway. You've made it a point to distance yourself from her and her life, only really interacting with her when it came to your daughter. You haven't seen the inside of her apartment— only getting as far as the view of her living area when she'd open the door when you dropped Maya off for the weekend.

Like tonight, as you stood in front of Dina's apartment with Maya in hand while the other held onto her bag stuffed with clothes and various toys. Dina opened the door, clothed in an old t-shirt she always slept in and a pair of cotton shorts. Somehow, she still managed to look as pretty as ever, but you quickly shook that thought from your brain as you handed Dina the heavy bag.

"Her medication is packed in the front with her toys. She's got a bit of a cold," you said tapping the front of the bag to show her where they were. She nodded, giving you a small smile which you returned before kneeling down to Maya's level. "I'm gonna miss you sooo much," you said wrapping your arms around her small body before planting a few kisses on her cheeks, each one sticky with the last traces of lip-gloss you had applied before leaving the house. "You gonna be good for momma, right?" you asked, and she gave you a nod. You stood back to your height, smoothing down her wild hair.

"Are you gonna eat dinner with us?" Maya's small voice asked, looking up at you with a pout she knew you could never resist. "I made enough food for one more," Dina added with a smile. You sighed softly before looking down at your daughter. "Maybe next time, baby. I have somewhere to be tonight," you answered. You hated the pout on her face, which only seemed to worsen at your answer.

"Why don't you go take out your toys, I'll be there soon then we can play a bit before dinner," Dina interjected. At the prospect of playtime, Maya's mood increased significantly and soon she disappeared into the apartment with her bag. Now it was just you and Dina standing in the poorly lit hallway of the complex. "Y'look beautiful," she said breaking the silence before it had time to become awkward. You looked down at your outfit, the shiny material of your dress sparkling in the faint light and the heels that were already starting to hurt your feet. "Thank you. I have a date tonight," you said shyly. You didn't know why you felt the need to tell her that, but for some reason it also didn't feel right to not tell her, even if the two of you weren't together.

Her eyebrows raised a bit at your words, but she tried her best to not show how surprised she really was. "Yeah?" she said, sparing you another small smile. "That's nice, bubs. I hope you have fun," she added. You nodded, looking down at your feet as they shifted your weight from one foot to the other. "Thanks, D. I'll see you soon, okay?" you said before making your way down the hall, turning around once again before you got very far. "And if anything's wrong—"

"I'll call you. I promise," she finished for you. You gave her a smile before you were off to your date with a newfound confidence. It was your first date in a while, after all.

˚๑ˎ˚｡⋆

You were just about to give up and cancel the call completely, when Dina's voice broke through the monotone ringing. "Hello?" she asked, voice raspy from sleep. You hadn't even realized how late it was. "I'm sorry, were you already asleep?" you asked, even though you knew the answer. "Yeah, but that doesn't matter. Are you okay?" she asked. "Yeah," you lied, "what about Maya? She okay?"

"Yeah, she's asleep right next to me," she whispered, staring down at Maya's sleeping form as she clung to one of her favorite stuffies; the one Dina had gotten her last Christmas. "Are you sure you're okay? You sound like you've been crying," she added after a short pause. You sighed tiredly, rubbing at your sore eyes. "I got stood up," you said with a humorless laugh, "I waited for 2 hours, Dina. God, I feel so embarrassed."

Before you could even stop them, the tears were once again falling down your cheeks. You rubbed at your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, trying to stop the unnecessary tears. You felt so stupid crying over someone you barely knew, and now crying about it to your ex-wife of all people. "I'm so sorry, bubs," Dina said softly. You wanted to rip your hair out at how genuinely sad she sounded. You've basically treated her like a stranger these last few months and she still managed to be so sweet to you? You felt like an asshole. "Where are you now? Have you been drinking?" she asked.

"No," you answered with a sniff, "I'm at home, got here a while ago." "Okay," she answered with a relieved sigh, "Can you come over?"

˚๑ˎ˚｡⋆

"Oh, bubs, I'm so sorry."

You wanted to crawl under a rock and hide there forever. There you stood at Dina's door, in a pair of old seats with eyes puffy and bloodshot from crying and rubbing at them.

When Dina saw the state you were in, she wasted no time wrapping her arms around you tightly, engulfing you in her warmth. Your first thought had been to deny her affection, but everything about it just felt so right. You couldn't help but melt into her warm embrace. You hadn't even noticed how much you've missed this; everything about her. From her laugh to her warmth and the feeling of being in her arms. Even her scent—the same scent that used to stick to her pillows and clothes and the same scent you now savored as your head lay on her shoulder.

If Dina noticed the way your grip on her shirt tightened, she didn't say anything.

Soon the two of you were sitting on her small living room couch, each with a cup of tea in hand as her TV played softly, filling the silence. "I'm sorry for calling so late," you said quietly, looking down into the still-steaming cup of tea. "It's okay," her voice spoke softly, before the room once again fell into a calm silence. "Can I tell you something?" Dina asked after a short while, and you nodded. "This'll probably sound bad, but I was hoping you didn't go on that date and stay for dinner with us."

"Dina..."

"I know, I shouldn't be saying something like that, but I," she scoffed lightly before continuing. "I really miss you. I miss us, what we had," she said with a sad smile. You couldn't help the smile that stretched across your face as well. You missed her too. Of course you did, you had shared so many special memories with her, you've built a life with her for goodness sake.

"How hypocritical would it be if I told you I missed you too?" you asked with a small laugh. Dina laughed too, and soon the two of you were giggling like a bunch schoolgirls. The whole thing seemed so absurd actually, but right now you couldn't find it in you to care. Not when you were where you've wanted to be all along, with Dina and your daughter, all together. Not when you were once again hearing her laugh after what felt like a lifetime. Not when you were happier than you've been this past year.

"Mommy?" The small voice caused the both of you to turn around to the dark hallway, where Maya stood rubbing the sleep from her eyes while the other still held onto her stuffie. She made her way to where the two of you sat, wiggling her way between the two of you on the small couch. You placed your cup of tea by your feet before giving her a big hug, which she eagerly returned. "Did we wake you, sweetheart?" you asked softly. She shook her head, before turning towards Dina, who was smoothing down her bedhead, and then back to you.

"Are you gonna stay for breakfast tomorrow? Please?" she asked after a few moments. You looked at Dina, who only shrugged from behind her, giving you a look that said only if you want to. "I'd love to," you said. Maya squealed with joy, wrapping her arms around you once again and causing her stuffie to fall from the couch, which Dina picked up quietly and placed in her lap. You gave her a look over Maya's shoulder, only to find her already looking at you. She looked at the two of you like you hung the stars yourselves, and you had no doubt that the look you were giving her was conveying the same message.

You hadn't expected the night to turn out the way it did, but you definitely wouldn't change a thing.

#dina the last of us #dina tlou #dina tlou x reader #dina x reader #dina woodward #dina woodward x reader #dina nolastname #dina nolastname x reader #tlou fic #wavyinterludee

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arc-misadventures · 8 months

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Secrets Well Kept

Jaune was having a bog-standard day until the moment his day was flipped on its head.

Literally.

Right now he was suspended in the air by his leg hanging over the roof of a building situated away from prying eyes.

He was surprised how quickly he got up here, how a single thread was holding him suspended in the air, but more importantly, that he didn’t throw up his guts in the process of getting here.

But, considering he was hanging upside down he suspected that there was still a possibility of that happening.

Peachy.

Fortuitously he wouldn’t have to worry about that for long. Hopefully.

For his captor have finally revealed themselves before him, and he only had one thing to say to them.

Jaune: If you dare say, “How’s it Yanging?” I will deliberately throw up on you.

: You wouldn’t dare!

Jaune: Unless it is by the form of a vile semi-non-lethal case of projectile vomit, how else could I, a common human possibly harm you, Spidergal.

Spidergal, the wisecracking web-slinger that swung around the city, saving people from a variety of things: Criminals committing crimes, cars speeding out of control, an introductory lesson of the ramifications of underestimating gravity. She will come in, and save everyone, be they petty criminals, or crazy men in monster suits. There were too many of those weirdos around town lately.

Jaune: Or… should I perhaps say… Yang Xiao Long…?

Spidergal stared at him for a moment before pulling off her mask, revealing a mane of golden hair, vibrant amethyst eyes, and a face that vibrated with fear.

Yang: Why?! Why did you do that?!

Jaune: Seemed pretty simple really; Your name is, Yang. I’m hanging from a… Crane? Yang, hang: Yanging. Seemed pretty simple considering you like towards making cheap puns.

Yang: it’s good I’ll give you that! But, why?!

Jaune: Why?

Yang: Yes: WHY?

Jaune: Why what?

Yang: Why didn’t you tell anyone that I was, Spidergal?!

Jaune: Are you talking about that time I caught you changing into your spider suit, and I caught you in that tantalizing lacy violet underwear?

Yang: Yes tha…?! Wait, you peaked?!

Jaune: To be fair, I couldn’t help it. You were changing your outfit at the time, and I just happened to walk on you in the process.

Yang: …

Yang: That’s fair… But, why didn’t you tell anyone?!

Jaune: Yes, I’m going to tell everyone I found out, Spidergal’s secret identity because I caught her in her underwear whilst changing into her suit. Who the devil would believe that, that could possibly happen?

Yang: Well… uhhh…? Honestly I wouldn’t believe that either.

Jaune: Precisely! Besides, I try to be a gentleman; I would have legged it out of there if it wasn’t for the fact that your friends… What are their names… Weiss, and… Blake?

Yang: Yes, their names are, Weiss, and Blake.

Jaune: Yeah, they could have caught you in that compromising position. Short of confessing you were, Spidergal, or a nudist how could you have gotten out of that?!

Yang: Definitely not the nudist route…

Jaune: Not to mention that squid guy…

Yang: Dr. Oc!

Jaune: Lame. Anyway he was on a rampage, so you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Yang: But… T-That was a month ago! Why haven’t you done anything?!

Jaune: Anything? What do you mean by that?

Yang: you could have blackmailed me into doing stuff for you, or you’ll reveal my identity! Like stealing stuff for you, o-or… m-making me doing something lewd…

As, Jaune lazily hung from the air he shot her an infuriated look that shocked her as she gazed upon a face that screamed offence.

Jaune: I’m tempted to tell everyone now for how insulted I feel that you would dare think that I would do something like that!

Yang: I’m sorry! It’s just… you know… secret identity that she has to keep secret… smoking hot babe… teenage boy…

Jaune: Get your head out of whatever gutter its in lady!

Yang: Okay! Just, why haven’t you told anyone about this, hell why didn’t you come to me about knowing this?! I’ve been on edge all month thinking you were planning something?!

Jaune: Hmm… That’s a fair concern. Well, I’ll tell you precisely what I was planning! But, first, I require a favour…

Yang recoiled in fear, her nerves were on edge as she saw the loopy smile across his face. She didn’t think he was planning anything sinister, but she couldn’t risk it.

Yang: What favour…

Jaune: Get me down from here! The blood is rushing to my head, and I think the projectile vomit is more of a warning, not a threat now!

Yang: Oh shit, yeah, sorry!

Yang quickly brought him down where, Jaune promptly laid on his back as he let his blood settle. After a few minutes he stood up, shaking the dizziness away.

Yang: You better?

Jaune: Somewhat? Imma gonna need to lie down for a while… that is so uncomfortable…

Yang: You can get used to it.

Jaune: Yeah, but I’m not… whatever it is you now are.

Yang: Hey!

Jaune: Okay… What I was planning to do was this: Nothing.

Yang: Nothing; you weren’t planning on doing anything?

Jaune: Not a gods dammed thing.

Yang: S-Seriously?

Jaune: Yep, I wasn’t planning on doing anything. You’ve been a great help to this city, it needs people like you, honest to god hero. I didn’t want to mess that up for internet clout. I mean, image how many people will be impacted if they knew you were, Spidergal. I mean… How many people could be hurt if your secret got out. And, I don’t just mean your family, but your friends, and any random schmuck on the street. Me telling who you are puts so many people at risk. I couldn’t dare dream of doing such a thing. So, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.

Yang: Oh… T-Thank you…

Yang fidgeted with her hair nervously as she looked away with a faint blush on her face. She did this because she thought the heroing was cool, and the overall right thing to do. But, to hear someone thank her for doing what she did, seeing that her being a superhero, and doing the things she does, and for who she does it for was more important than knowing who she was, meant the world to her, and really gave her that boost of confidence she needed.

Jaune: So don’t worry about it, Yang. I’ve kept this a secret for over a year now, I can keep it secret still for years yet to come.

Yang: Thanks, Jaune, I really…?! Wait… ‘Over a year now…?’ Hold up! You’ve know I was, Spidergal for over a year now?!

Jaune: Yep!

Yang: How?!

Jaune: Remember when we first met?

Yang: Uhh… We met in the hallway at school… you were helping me by putting a textbook back into my backpack?! You saw my suit when you were putting that book back?!

Jaune: Close, I saw your suit in your backpack before I put that textbook back in. Why do you think I zipped up your backpack when I put the textbook back, and gave you that warning about letting stuff fall out?

Yang: You’ve known the whole time that I was, Spidergal since our freshmen year?!

Jaune: You weren’t really famous for a while yet, but yeah, pretty much.

Yang: H-Have you been protecting my secret the whole time as well?!

Jaune: More, or less.

Yang: Oh… okay…

Jaune: So… now what?

Yang: I don’t know… You know my secret, and have been keeping my secret for over a year now… I guess we just carry on as we are?

Jaune: I can do that.

Yang: Do you… Would you mind if I came to you… To talk about all these things I’ve been through? I don’t have anyone to talk about this to, and I could really use someone to talk to… do you… Would you mind?

Jaune look at her before walking over to a vent box on the roof. The metallic box echoed as he sat upon it, he turned to her, and tapped a spot besides him. Yang smiled at him before jumping, and summersaulting in the air, and landing gracefully next to him.

Jaune: So… Lets start at the beginning shall we?

Yang: How I became, Spidergal? That’s a good place to start.

Jaune: Oh, I was going to ask how you hide all that hair under that mask of yours; like seriously, how?!

Yang laughed as she lightly punched his arm before she told him the origin story of the, Astonishing Spidergal.

And, Jaune had to admit, it was too ridiculous to be true. But, such is life: Too ridiculous to be true.

///

Ahh, finally get to play out that Spiderman idea I’ve had stuck in my head for months now!

That was fun. Well, back to the grinding stone.

Do enjoy~!

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #weiss schnee

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cherubshert · 7 months

Text

a/n: this is just a work of fiction!! idk how to write arguments loll, i really wanted add some cuss words but i felt awkward

patience... patience... patience... you were quite literally running out of it. you stare down at your phone, still a tiny bit hopeful, he hadn't called or texted to cancel so he must still be coming.

you sigh, you've been waiting for hours, all dolled up, and dressed in an outfit you bought specifically for this night. it was going to be the best of your dates, the best you had in a while, the...

"sorry we are about to close." you stare blankly at the waiter, looking around finally to find the place empty. "oh! I'm sorry, I'm just waiting for someone..." the waiter gives you a pitiful smile, reinforcing the fact that the store would be closing soon.

you stare at your phone, before immediately standing up. "I'm sorry." you murmur as you gather your things, paying for your food, hurrying to your car

your car is cold, so cold it feels so lonely, your grip on your steering wheel tightens. you body shaking as tears slip from your eyes, you felt a bit disappointed, though you were used to it. but damn, you were a little hopeful it would've different this time.

you wipe your tears, starting your car. the ride to his dorm us short, but it still felt long, thoughts jumbled in your mind. you make your way to their door, breathing out the thoughts telling you to just let it go before knocking. niki is the one that answers, the rest of the boys noisily in the background. "y/n? are you ok?"

"heeseung, is he in?" "oh yea, he's in his room." you push past him, sadness, confusion and anger mixing in your veins. and when you stop at the door, you let out a shaky breath.

when the door opens, he's the main piece if the room, lounging in his bed, scrolling on his phone. "do you know what day today is?" he jumps at your voice, turning to you and raising a brow. "what?" "i asked if you knew what today was?" he pauses, staring at you in confusion before the realization hits.

"sorry i forgot." he looks away focusing back to his phone."you forgot? you keep forgetting, cause that's the third time this month." "can we talk about this later, y/n. I'm really tired."

"there's no later, I want to talk about it now." he stands up, waking to a study desk on the side of the room."are you ignoring me? can we please settle this." you reach out to him, turning his to face you. "i don't want to, your being such a cry baby about this, it's not a big deal." "not a big deal? did you here what i said earlier, you made the same empty promise 3 times in one month. that adds up! I've spent our entire relationship waiting on you. I'm tired of waiting !"

he pushes your hand away. "there is nothing stopping you from leaving, what the hell have you done for me?you are being so immature and angry because of a date, or few. especially since those dates I've made up for them." "how? through petty gifts? i am not and was never asking from those. i am just asking for your time your attention. what have I done for you? all the sacrifices I've made for you, nights i spent awake when you were miles away, just to keep you company over the phone, the times i took care of you when you were ill? i should be asking you the same question, what have you done for me? made empty promises, left me hanging for weeks and then only running back when you want something?"

he stays silent, he's face scrunched up in anger. "come on, answer me, tell me what you've done for me? ... tell me how you feel about me, please..." nothing... "wow... thanks for showing me how much i really mean, we're done."

a/n²: don't make fun of me, ik this is kinda cringe loll... again this is just fiction!!!!!

#kpop fanfic #kpop x poc reader #cherubshert diary.#enhypen imagines #kpop x black reader #enhypen fic #enhypen x black reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #heeseung x reader #lee heesung x reader #heeseung angst #heeseung imagines

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t0jisd0ll · 10 months

Text

red wine and midnight skies

genre: angst (no comfort)

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn! reader

warnings: slight ooc miguel, mentions of stalking, one use of [name]

word count: 0.7k

At this point the disappointment had become natural to you.

Getting stood up at a date started to become a common occurrence for the past few months. It was a routine, really. You would spend hours trying to get the perfect outfit, only to sit alone until midnight in some restaurant or cafe, the years threatening to spill from your eyes.

Every single time, your boyfriend Miguel would come up with some pathetic excuse or reason for why he couldn't show up.

Most of the time he couldn't even look you in the eyes as he said it.

You find yourself frequently thinking about how things used to be when you first started dating-when he actually showed up to things, when he was actually there when you needed him.

This is most of what was going through your head as you sat alone at a fancy restaurant, not even remembering how many times you had asked for a refill for your glass of wine. The waiter, along with the other diners had given you looks of pity, you could sense it.

Maybe they could tell that it wasn't your first time getting stood up like this.

Your gaze stood transfixed on your red wine, slowly twirling the glass in your hand to create a mini tornado. It usually helped you overcome the boredom of being alone.

To be honest, you quite liked being alone sometimes, that wasn't particularly new to you. Feeling alone, however, hurt the most.

The alarm on your watch rang. 11:12 pm, it read. You sighed to yourself and called for the bill. Another night wasted in the same way.

You honestly don't know why you bother anymore.

At about this time, the television in the restaurant blared with the alarm for breaking news.

"The attack on Nueva York by mutant lizard forces has been thwarted by Spiderman-"

Ignoring the blaring noises of the police sirens and the loud new, you paid the bill and left the restaurant.

As opposed to most people using their hover-vehicles and such, you actually preferred walking home. There was a decent amount of breeze during the night, and you found it quite refreshing.

Nearing your apartment, you saw a tall figure leaning on the main front door.

You rolled your eyes and slowed your pace as much as possible.

"Cariño, I was just going to come!" Miguel exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. You scoffed; he was acting like he did nothing wrong.

"Save it, Miguel. I don't want to hear another one of your petty excuses." You scowled, getting even more annoyed by the second.

"I'm so sorry mi vada, I got caught up in some-"

"[name], please, let me just-"

"No Miguel! You can't keep justifying yourself to me like this forever! You should have never accepted my proposal if you're never going to show up to anything in the first place." You half-screamed. aware that it was literally midnight and people would be asleep.

You would probably think about it later on and say that it was the alcohol talking, but whatever comes out of your mouth the first time is usually the truth.

He frowned, "If you feel so much about this, why are we still together then?" Miguel asked, breathing deeply.

"Your right, maybe we shouldn't be together after all." You blankly stated and you stormed inside your apartment building, leaving him standing alone at your doorstep.

Perhaps this was for the best after all...

The city of Nueva York was beautiful at midnight. Miguel O'Hara, however, could not bring himself to admire the scenic view. Not with his current state of mind.

Your words kept replaying in his head. The again, there was nothing he could have done. This was better than a canon event occurring after all.

If you and him had stayed together and lived a happy life and something had happened to you because of his secret identity? No, he couldn't bear to think of it.

This is fine, he said to himself. It's not like he couldn't keep an eye on you for safety. He was Spiderman for fucks sake, he could swing from here to there and make sure you were safe.

Yes, everything would be fine.

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