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erwinsvow · 10 days

Note

rafe meeting shy reader’s parents for the first time

im thinking of right after... ♡

truth be told, you had been really nervous about the whole thing. rafe was a great boyfriend to you, but sometimes a bit too blunt. you worried your parents might not like him as much as you do, that they might not be okay with your new relationship.

and though you now understood that there was no force in the world that could keep you away from him, you still wanted your parents to like him. which, of course, they did. he charmed them easily, bringing a bottle of their favorite red and flowers for your home. he struck up easy conversation with your dad about business and how lovely your house was with your mom.

all in all, perfect. while your parents loaded the dishwasher, you excused the two of you, insisting you needed to give rafe some of his stuff back from upstairs.

when you get him into your bedroom, you close the door, pushing him against it and leaning in for a hot kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down and against you, tongues wet against each other, with your biting down on his lip until he pulls away.

"hey, hey. easy. they're right down there."

"i don't care," you mumble, lovestruck. you pull him in again, mind going completely blank except for a want to keep rafe's lips on yours. he manhandles you a little, pushing away from the door to at least get further into your bedroom.

he only gets you pushed against another wall, legs wrapping themselves around rafe's waist automatically, pressing yourself against him in a way that has him concerned.

"woah, woah, hold on, kid. we're going back down for dessert, can't have it obvious-"

"who cares about dessert?" you protest, and you look up at him with your pretty eyes filled with lust, chest heaving in the pretty sundress he'd been admiring all night. you're flushed and warm, overcome with a wanting for rafe that needed to be satisfied now, though you're even a little confused yourself where it stemmed from.

"really? you wanna fuck with your parents downstairs?"

"is that so wrong? we do it at tannyhill.."

"no one's around at tannyhill. c'mon, calm down. i don't need them hatin' me already. they just started likin' me."

you sigh a breath of protest, shoulders falling, but you don't complain. you still stalk back up, close to your boyfriend, putting your hands on his shoulders, looking up with your swollen lips and fluttery eyes.

"i knew they'd like you. y'know, i like you too.. a lot."

"yeah, kid. i can tell."

"i jus' wanna show you how much i like you, s'all." your words are becoming a little slurred, eyes a little dazed, lips a little pouty. you lean up for another kiss, gentle this time, moaning into his mouth while your nails grip rafe's arm through his pressed button up.

"c'mon baby. you're gonna get me in trouble," rafe says when he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. he can make out the sound of the faucet shutting, the fridge opening to retrieve the cake you'd made earlier.

"not if we're quick, right?" you rake your nails—freshly done today, pink and pretty just how he likes—against rafe's chest. "and i can be quiet... right?" you lean in again, pressing a hot kiss to rafe's jaw. "no one has to know-"

in hindsight, it was a mistake letting himself get swayed by you like this. he blamed your boldness this time, usually too shy to ask for what you want, just relying on rafe to give it to you. but he's still a man, one madly in love—at that—and he doesn't think he can resist you if he tries.

rafe ends up in a position he's not used to—lying on his back on your soft, sweet-smelling sheets, against a pillow and next to a stuffed teddy. you're on top, your dress hiked up and panties yanked to the side. the top is pushed down just enough to show him your tits, one of his ringed fingers teasing your nipple while the other guides your hips.

you're close already, he can tell, the way your entire body trembles, how you're biting your lip so hard it's about to bleed to keep yourself silent. besides for the sound of his skin slapping against yours and your whimpers, the room is silent. it's not gonna take much, but he decides to give it to you anyways.

his grip tightens, thrusting up and fucking into you hard, controlling the pace. your hands which had been lying flat on his chest to hold yourself up, were abandoned to cover your mouth instead, his eyes glued to where he was sliding inside of you.

"c'mon, kid. fuck. you wanted it, didn't ya? gotta be quick, then. shit." you clench around his dick, a strangled moan escaping your lips. he has half a mind to push your face into the mattress and fuck you from behind, but it's gonna have to wait.

you're getting close. he's getting close. another second of rafe fucking you like this, with you on top but still having no control, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars and have your eyes rolling back. you're so close you can taste it, gushing around his dick and knowing he's gonna fill you up with the way he goes faster, until you hear a knock on the door.

"honey? rafe? dessert's ready."

"god! m'coming!"

ten minutes later, you're eating chocolate cake with rafe's cum spilling out of you, probably dripping down your thigh and making a mess. his hair is a mess, your lips swollen. you catch his eye while he's shoving cake in his mouth and neither of you can hold back your laughter.

your parents haven't noticed anything yet, but you can't make eye contact with them for a week after.

but it was definitely worth it.

#angel im so sorry i corrupted your innocent prompt like this #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #that being said i need his dick so badly or i may die

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notjustjavierpena · 3 months

Text

Mouthful

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.

Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,

Word count: 2.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839

Mouthful

You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder.

The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.

“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms.

“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder.

“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”

“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced.

“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening.

Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.

“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?”

There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”

“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing.

“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying.

“Mom,” Inés predictably complains.

“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.

“Javi,” you say softly.

“What?” He grumbles.

“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids.

“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water.

“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”

“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender.

“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”

Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.

“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”

“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song.

You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date.

You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes.

“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers.

“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”

You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either.

“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”

“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed.

“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back.

“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically.

“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.”

It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question.

“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”

You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out.

“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“

“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it.

He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“

“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect.

Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.”

“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get.

Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store.

“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”

Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue.

“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.

When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time.

“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.

“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”

You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again.

Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth.

“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again.

Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day.

You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin.

You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs.

“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”

You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat.

He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.

You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”

Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses.

Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail.

“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”

You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.

You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward.

His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens.

He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic.

“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up.

As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned.

“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile.

You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it.

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ghxstlike · 6 months

Text

you shut my mouth (and buckle my knees)

pairing: mike schmidt/gn!reader

content: reader is michael's next door neighbor, mike is so awkward, mike has social anxiety & is bad at words, reader is so oblivious, reader is 19 & mike is 20/21, reader has daddy issues, fluff, this takes place before the events in the movie, no use of y/n.

summary: mike’s been avoiding you recently, and you automatically think he’s mad at you. when babysitting abby, she tells you the truth about his feelings about you.

author's note: the title is a lyric from ‘i want to be with you’ by chloe moriondo! also!! the fnaf movie is AMAZING and it’s one of my favorite movies now. this is cross posted on ao3!! enjoy :)

he’s never this quiet.

he’s always somewhat quiet, yeah, but not deathly silent. and he usually doesn’t avoid you, either.

being a babysitter is something you never expected when you moved into the house right next mike’s. you moved in about a year ago with your mom, due to her divorce with your dad. your dad wasn’t the greatest man, nor the best dad. he never left, but he was never involved in your life. so, your mom was pretty much a single mom. your mom wanted to move far away from your dad, landing up in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

a few days after moving in, your mom introduced you to mike and his little sister abby. the first time you’ve ever seen mike was…awkward, to say the least. you could tell mike wasn’t very comfortable in the conversation at first, with the way he swung back and forth on his heels. you, on the other hand, couldn’t focus with the most hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life standing in front of you. you loved the shade of brown his eyes were, they reminded you of a beautiful forest in the fall, late at night.

mike voiced to you both about how his recent babysitter wasn’t returning his calls and wasn’t showing up, so you stepped up to be abby’s new babysitter. you’re glad you did, since now you’re able to do fun things during the day and not sit in your room reading some lame book. you don’t get paid much, but that was the least of your worries.

now, you’re in the kitchen cleaning dishes. it was about 8 pm, so abby was already fast asleep. you and abby baked cookies and there was already a huge mess. in the middle of mixing the wet and dry ingredients together to make a dough, abby pinched up a bit of flour and threw it at you. you looked up at her with an exaggerated gasp and a hand over your heart. to play with her little charade, you grabbed a tiny bit and threw in her direction. the fight of throwing flour between the two of you suddenly stopped as mike walked through the door. a feeling of guilt ran through your body when you realized what you’ve done, but there was still a huge smile on your face as you waved at him.

ever since then, he’s been sitting on the couch watching some sort of old cartoon. he usually stays in the kitchen with you, sitting at the table and talking about your day with abby. out of seemingly no where, mike stopped this routine. it bummed you out, obviously, but you didn’t want to force him to talk to you.

you sigh, grabbing the green and yellow sponge that was placed next to the sink. your mind began to wander, thinking about earlier that day. you feel terrible, but you just wanted abby to have a bit of fun. you shouldn’t have let it go that far.

you know how it feels to start something fun, and have it end up with your body filling with shame and embarrassment. especially at abby’s age. the last thing you want abby to feel is embarrassment from an adult. you also never wanted mike to be mad at you, but you have a slight feeling he already is.

you sigh again as you realize you haven’t apologized to mike about what he walked into. you bite your lip, turning around to see mike still sitting on the couch, eyes fixated on the TV.

you gently place the remainder of the dishes in the dishwasher, then quietly walk over to mike. you sit on the same couch as him, but on the other end of it. you look down at your lap, your eyes tracing the all the lines in your palm. after a few moments of being silent yourself, you speak up.

“mike?” you say in a hushed voice. his response was almost immediate.

he hums, eyes flicking to you and back at the screen. “yeah?”

his flat, low voice always made you feel warm inside. making your heart and stomach flutter with butterflies. but this time, the warmth that his voice brings goes directly down to your stomach, twisting it with anxiety. his whole presence made you feel giddy, like you were in high school with a newly founded crush. you swallow thickly before you speak again.

“i just wanted to apologize for earlier.” you pause, trying to find the right words to say and not mess this up. you want mike to speak to you, you want mike to spend time with you, you just miss him. “i-i shouldn’t have let it get that far.” you murmur.

mike doesn’t say anything at first, he just looks over at you again and nods. “you’re good.”

your stomach churns at his dry response. you nod at him, wiping your clammy hands on your jean-clad knees. “i should get going,” you say under your breath. again, mike doesn’t respond. he just watches you walk to the door, putting on your shoes in a hurry.

mike runs a hand through his curly hair, trying to figure out what he wants to say. he wants to say something, atleast a goodnight, but nothing comes out. you were too busy tying up your shoes to notice his conflicting face.

you open the front door of mike’s home and look over your shoulder. “have a good night, mike.” you say with a smile. mike’s hand does a slight wave, not returning the smile. you shut the door quietly, feeling absolutely crushed.

one of mike’s hands run down his face, hating himself for not saying something before you left. he also hated the way his heart clenched as you looked so sad when you walked out the door. “god dammit.” he grumbled to himself.

days have passed from that night. mike is still avoiding you, and being extremely quiet around you. you know it’s just you he’s being quiet around, since you hear him arguing with abby when you enter his home in the afternoon. just the thought of mike being mad at you pains you to your core, so much so that you avoid him yourself. you feel absolutely terrible, but stirring the pot could make it worse.

mike obviously notices your recent behavior, but didn’t say anything about it. instead, he’d think about it deeply when he’s in bed late at night. for weeks, he’d sleep terribly, just staying up all night figuring out what to say to you to make things better. he misses talking to you, he misses hearing your beautiful laughter and how your eyes sparkle with life when you talk about your interests.

today wasn’t very eventful, it was rather peaceful. you and abby sat at the dinner table, drawing each other pictures and talking. you noticed a drawing she was finished with and picked it up. it seemed to be you, mike, and abby all holding hands in front of a house. you smile softly, glancing up at abby, who’s doodling away with a yellow crayon. you look back down at the artwork and notice a small detail between the drawing of you and mike.

“abs?” you call out, not looking up from the paper. you hear a quiet clank as abby set down her crayon.

“yes?” she looks up at you, a slight smile apparent on her face. you set down the paper and slide it over to her. she looks down at her art, then back up at you.

“what’s up with the heart between me and mike?” you question, your stomach filling with nerves.

abby shrugs, the smile on her face never faltering as she talks. “he likes you, duh.” she giggles.

you sit up straight as your eyes widen. “what?” you whisper. your mind is running wild with all sorts of thoughts- he likes you?

“mike talks about you all the time,” she explains, picking up the yellow crayon again. “i hear him talking to himself about how-”

“abby.”

both of your heads snap toward the front door. it’s mike, he seems angry; his face is a slight pink and his hand is tightly clutching onto his bookbag that’s slung over his shoulder. abby quickly gathers up all of her art supplies that were scattered across the table and flees to her room, giggling loudly. you watch her run, smiling at her cute antics.

you hear a chair being pulled out and see that mike is sitting across from you. the picture of the three of you remains. mike only glances at it and seems to wince with a clenched jaw. he doesn’t look happy at all. you bite the inside of your cheek, getting all wrapped up in your head about what mike is thinking.

abby clearly had a misunderstanding of what mike was actually feeling. she had to.

minutes pass, and not a single word is said. to save your embarrassment (and his), the chair under you screeches as you stand up. “i-i’ll leave,” you suddenly mumble. you don’t notice the way mike’s head snaps up, watching you start to make your way to the door.

mike calls out your name before you’re able to reach the door. “stay,” he pauses to clear his throat. “uh, please.”

you turn around to see mike staring at you with his eyebrows slightly raised. without hesitation or any word, you sit back down. “is everything okay?” your voice sounds so soft, it makes mike’s heart melt.

he nods quickly, scratching the back of his neck. you can see that one of mike’s legs are bouncing and you can see sweat build up on his forehead. he loosens his tie, which makes your whole body warm up. you could feel the warmth spread throughout your limbs, stopping at your toes and fingertips.

“you don’t look okay, a-are you sick?” you exclaim with a worried look on your face. mike shakes his head no, huffing out a laugh.

“no, i’m okay, promise.” a grin appears on his face, amused with your sudden worry. “i just- abby wasn’t lying.” he blurts out, his eyes not meeting yours. you seemed to have a confused expression, so he went further. “when she said i like you.”

oh.

“oh.”

mike looks back at you, seeing that you’re completely and utterly flustered. he was right, you don’t see him the way he sees you. he feels himself sweat more, “is there something wrong?”

“no! no, no,” you ramble, laughing awkwardly. “is that why you were avoiding me for weeks on end?” you ask, your voice getting into a higher pitch. mike nods silently, eagerly awaiting for your response.

now that you think about it, everytime that you were in close contact with mike, his whole body would tense up and his face would turn pink. you almost hit yourself for not noticing sooner. instead, you laugh quietly. one of mike’s eyebrows raise, looking at you with a confused expression.

“i thought you were mad at me.” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers.

mike’s expression softens, “why would i be mad at you?”

“the day where abby and i made a mess out of the kitchen with flour,” you replied with a shrug. “that was the day where you started avoiding me.”

mike’s mouth opened, then closed. he did this a few times before finally saying: “that day was when i realized i liked you.”

you stayed silent as he continued. “i really didn’t mean to avoid you, but i just..” he stops and takes a deep breath. “i just, y’know, couldn’t find words when i was around you.”

your heart almost skipped a beat at his words, smiling ever so brightly at him. you felt so many emotions in that moment, where mike felt like he was about to faint from how pretty you look when you smile. he gives you a grin in return.

“i like you, too.” you say, still smiling. you giggle as mike sighs in relief.

his hand reaches over the table to grab yours. his hand is a little sweaty, but you don’t mind a bit.

he clears his throat, “that means i can take you on a date, right?”

you squeeze his hand tightly and nod before you realize something.

“who will babysit abby?”

#x reader #fnaf #five nights at freddys #fnaf movie #fnaf movie x reader #mike schmidt x reader #michael schmidt #michael schmidt x reader #mike schmidt

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saritaurez · 7 months

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Was having a conversation about this and now I’m curious.

What do you prefer: Automatic dishwasher or hand washing dishes?

Do you have ADHD or OCD?

#please reblog #if u so wish #actually adhd #my spouse has ocd #we have had Many a convo about this and I wonder if there’s a correlation #adhd #ocd #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #dishes #dishwasher #hand wash #tumblr polls #adulting #adult adhd #obsessive compulsive disorder

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groovybeachgurl · 7 months

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for anyone who thinks that adhd is some fun little thing where you just forget things sometimes and are hyper, here is what completing a household task (let’s say, for example, this task is to wash my laundry) looks like in my brain:

*sees laundry hamper overflowing* ok, i should probably wash my clothes, but first i have to…

take my laundry out of the hamper

transfer it to a basket

pick up the dirty clothes that spilled onto the floor

transfer those to the basket as well

pick up the basket

walk down the stairs

walk to the laundry room with the basket, past the kitchen

oh no! there are dishes in the sink, i better get to those now so i don’t forget *puts down laundry basket* let’s see, i have to…

open the dishwasher

see if there are clean dishes inside (usually there are)

take clean dishes out

put each dish away one by one

rinse each dish in the sink, then put it in the dishwasher

put dishwasher detergent pod into dishwasher

put rinse aid into dishwasher

close dishwasher

choose wash settings

start the dishwasher

wow! that took a lot of time, now i’m kind of hungry *forgets about the laundry basket’s existence and walks right past it*

HOURS LATER

*in bed* i feel like i’m forgetting something… oh well, must not be important!

thus, the cycle restarts.

doesn’t that sound exhausting? having to map out an entire list of steps just to complete one task? now imagine that your brain just does this automatically, it’s not even a conscious decision!

the mental toll is excruciating and we can’t even stop it from happening.

so, no, adhd is not just “sometimes forgetting things” or “being hyper” - adhd is a perpetual state of being unable to functionally execute and complete tasks without significant mental planning and labor.

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squids-comics · 5 months

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I hate when people make the joke of calling women dishwashers because not only is it extremely disrespectful, but it erases the technological progress we have achieved to have automatic dishwashers!

Reed Richards literally invented the dishwasher so he could spend more time with his wife. That should be the legacy of the dishwasher, not misogyny.

From: Fantastic Four #44

#comics #comic books #dc comics #web comics #mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #comic panels #c #marvel comics #mr fantastic #fantastic 4 #fantastic four #reed richards #invisible woman #susan storm #susan richards

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

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DRABBLE: WHEN YOU WEAR GLASSES (MHA) (for Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: My very first drabble!!! I had this idea after my boyfriend told me how sexy I look in my glasses. Enjoy! -Jazz

************

PRO!BAKUGOU – He swears to the Lord, something happens to him.

It’s like a switch in his body that controls how hard his cock gets automatically switches in his body the minute he sees you in those glasses. They’re the cat-eye kind and seem to bring out the pretty, brown shade of your eyes even more.

He barely noticed them the first day you came in after the weekend. He truthfully didn’t notice much when he was at work since shit around his agency ain’t ever done right. But when he was fixing himself some coffee in the employee breakroom, it was impossible to notice. It took him a while though because he was so hellbent on finding his favorite mug in the cabinet above the sink.

“Goddammit,” he grumbled. He was already irked from going hours without his morning fix of caffeine; now some dumbass was moving his shit? “Where the fuck is it?”

“Good morning, Bakugou,” you cheerfully said as you walked into the room. Though the sound of your sweet voice perked him up, he only gave you a grunt of acknowledgment. “Everything okay?” you asked, confused.

“Fuckin’ people keep movin’ my shit,” he growled, slamming the cabinet shut before looking in the one next to it. “You know where that All Might mug is?”

“The limited edition one?” you ask, a light giggle in your voice. He made a mental note to chew your ass out about making fun of him later. “Try the dishwasher. I think someone was here late on Friday cleanin’ up the dishes.”

Bakugou nearly ripped the dishwasher open and, sure enough, there was his favorite mug sitting on the top rack, nice and sparkly. He breathed a sigh of relief as you went about your business, taking a mug from the top cabinet to make your coffee. “Thanks,” he grumbled, turning to acknowledge you finally.

But as he did, he got one look at you in those cat-eye glasses that seemed to make you prettier and all of his brain cells seemed to explode. His eyes widened and his lips parted dumbly at the sight of you. It was bad enough that you looked so damn good in your blouse and pencil skirt, but the glasses set the whole look off. You looked like a secretary. One he’d love to boss around before punishing for not doing as he specifically asked; maybe bend you over his desk, pull up that skirt, and eat that pussy until you cried.

“You okay?” you suddenly asked, blinking at him in confusion. He realized he’d been staring. “M’fine,” he growled. “Where’d you get the glasses from?”

You blinked at him dumbly before going to touch your frames. “Oh, these? They’re new! Had to get new ones ‘cause the other ones weren’t doin’ what they were supposed to for my vision.” An almost insecure look crossed your face as you chewed on your bottom lip. Bakugou nearly jumped you right there. Were you trying to make him hard? “Do you…like them?”

Did he like them? All Bakugou could think about was cumming all over the frames and fogging up your vision even more when he finally bust all over your pretty face, your kissable lips and tongue coated in his nut.

“Y-Yeah,” he muttered, flustered, and turned towards the counter to avoid you seeing his hard-on. “They’re…nice.”

The shy but happy smile that passed your pillowy-soft lips was enough for him to cum about three times into his hand hours later when he was finally alone in his office.

PRO!MIDORIYA – He is a little more discreet about his horniness when he sees you in your glasses.

But when he sees you, oh, boy, it takes everything in him to not fuck your ass all the way up.

When he first realized how gorgeous you look in glasses, it was a day after you spent the night at his place and you had a luncheon with your fellow pro hero friends in half an hour. “Baby?” he called from his bedroom, frustration taking over him.

“Yeah?” you called back from the bathroom. You had been in there for twenty minutes already. He wasn’t too sure what women went through to get ready for a special occasion, but you must’ve been doing something right to always come out looking absolutely perfect.

“Have you seen my wallet?” Deku asked, panic creeping into his voice as he tore through his nightstand drawers. “I swear, I had it last night but I can’t find it now.” The last thing he remembered from last night was coming home after dinner with you and ripping his clothes off before proceeding to fuck you into his mattress.

“You did,” you replied above the sound of TLC playing from your phone. “Check under the bed. That’s where your jeans were.”

Deku did as you said and, sure enough, there it was lying under his bed, all credit cards and money still there. “Ah!” he sighed in relief. “Thanks, baby. I would’ve been tearing my entire penthouse apart.”

“No problem,” you chirped as you suddenly walked into the bedroom. “What time are Shoto and Bakugou showin’ up at the restaurant? I still need to put some clothes on.”

Deku had looked up at you and his brain fucking shortcircuited. Anything he was about to say fades in his mind as he gets a look at you wrapped up in your towel and your bonnet with some very new glasses on your face. He swore you’d never had them before. Where the fuck did they come from? And why were they making him so hard?

You scowled down at him, confused. “What?” you asked. “Somethin’ on my face?” You went to glide a hand across your mouth.

Deku slowly shook his head, still staring up at you, dumbfounded. “Um…are those glasses?” he weakly asked. You eyed him confusedly, nodding. “Yeah; I had to switch to glasses ‘cause I didn’t like my contacts anymore.” You fixed the spectacles on your face. “Do they look okay?” you shyly asked, peering down at him with those big, brown eyes that looked so much prettier with the glasses on your face.

Deku didn’t answer. Instead, he used his actions to give you all the answers you needed. Minutes later, your towel was off and you were on your stomach, ass tooted up and pussy filled with his veiny, thick cock that stroked your walls so good that you began sobbing at the pleasure. “They. Look. Fuckin’. Perfect,” Deku growled, each word punctuated by a thrust that had your glasses nearly falling off your face from the force.

Lunch with Bakugou and Todoroki turned into dinner, let’s just say.

PRO!TODOROKI – To him, you look goddamn angelic. Like the prettiest teacher in the entire world.

And you are! When he first met you, you were teaching at an elementary school that he volunteered to visit for the school’s career day celebration. He didn’t mind as Todoroki had a love for kids; especially ones that wanted to become a pro hero.

He showed up earlier than was necessary–like, a whole hour earlier–, decked out in his hero gear. As soon as he walked into the colorful and inviting classroom, he was taken aback by the gorgeous woman standing at the whiteboard with the most beautiful skin and hair he’s ever seen. When you turned toward him, pausing in your writing, he went still.

The glasses you specifically chose that day were red and matched your pretty blouse and complimented your skin. It’s all he could do to not pop a hard-on. He knew if you were his teacher, he’d do nothing but stare at you, daydreaming about how beautiful you were when he should’ve been paying attention to the lesson.

“Mr. Todoroki?” Your voice, sweet like honey, pulled him out of his trance. You were giving him a concerned look that made a cute little wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Is everything okay?” you asked. “You’re very early. The kids won’t be here for another hour.”

Todoroki dumbly blinked at you and then flushed under his gear. Here he was, ogling at you like a horny schoolboy when he had a job to do! “Apologies, ma’am,” he said, bowing to you much to your shock. “I had shown up to prepare for today’s class and perhaps see if I could offer my hand in any help you needed.”

You giggled at his words, making his cock surge in his pants. “That’s very sweet of you,” you cooed, a sweet smile curling at your glossy, soft lips. “But that’s really not necessary! You’re a guest, after all.”

But Todoroki was persistent. “It’s really no trouble, ma’am. I’m honored to even be here. After all, I’m taking time away from your teaching.”

You pursed those lips up at him, giving him naughty flashes of his cock between them. “Well, if you want, I need help putting the crayons out on the desks. And you don’t need to keep callin’ me “ma’am”. Ms. L/N or F/N would do just fine.”

Todoroki smiled then, happy with the icebreaker. “Of course; then you can just call me Shoto.” He stuck his hand out for you to shake and you took it, causing a zing of electricity to shoot through his body at your touch. “By the way, you look nice in glasses.”

That little comment was enough to sweeten you up to give him your number once the classes ended.

AIZAWA – He fucking loves it, man.

He just can’t help but picture you in a little schoolgirl outfit, on your knees with his dick deep down your throat and your glasses fogging up every time he thrusts into your mouth. Or maybe even as a teacher, your glasses perched on your nose and one heel of your pump pressing lightly into his chest as he fists his cock.

Yes, Aizawa is a fucking pervert. But he’s very discreet about it. You didn’t know what he was thinking at all when he first saw you pull the spectacles out of your clutch one night at dinner. He was sitting across from you at the steak restaurant he insisted on taking you to on your first date.

He could barely keep his eyes off you, forcing himself to stare strictly at your face and not at your breasts that insisted on showing themselves off in your low-cut dress. “So what are you gonna get?” he asked, his menu in his hands.

“Hmm…” you hummed questionably as you took your menu and squinted at it, hilariously, Aizawa would add. “Hang on a sec,” you suddenly sighed. “I didn’t wanna wear these ‘cause they ruin my outfit, but…” You dug into your clutch and took out a pair of big, rimmed glasses that reminded Aizawa of an old woman’s.

When you put them on, you looked downright embarrassed. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?” you sighed. “I just can’t see the menu too well without them.”

When I see Aizawa was gone, he was fucking gone. He wanted to tell you how adorable you looked in the vintage glasses, but he couldn’t get passed the part about wanting to bend you over the table, fuck you in front of everyone to show them you’re his, and cumming all over those cute little glasses. Why were you so damn cute?

“Shouta?” you asked, scowling at him worriedly. “Are you okay?” Still, Aizawa said nothing, too entranced by how you looked. It was as if the glasses brought out the cuteness in you even more, making your brown eyes even bigger. And making him so goddamn hard.

A frown suddenly crossed your lips. “Sorry,” you weaky said, staring down dolefully at your menu. “I knew putting these on was a bad idea. I look horrible in ‘em.”

You went to pull them off, but Aizawa stopped you with a hand on your wrist and a firm, “No.” You stared at him, shocked. “Don’t take ‘em off,” he said softly, pleading with you. “You look…amazing.”

The joyful and bashful smile that crossed your pillowy-soft lips adorned in red shook him to his core. The rest of the night was filled with passionate kisses, endless praise, and him fucking you stupid to show you just how beautiful he thought you were.

Whether with the glasses or without.

#had this idea after my boyfriend said some nasty shit about my glasses #bnha smut #smutty smut #18+#drabble #bnha drabble #black reader #aizawa x black!reader #deku x black!reader #bakugou x black!reader #todoroki x black!reader #my works #my drabbles

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hellsbarnes · 2 years

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୨ 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (1)₊˚ପ⊹ 𝙟. 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙣 ୧

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x civilian!fem!reader

summary: after sleeping with jake one too many times and getting nowhere, you decide to give up, not knowing how he truly feels.

warnings: nsfw themes, 18+, minors do not interact, lots of angst, heartbreak, unrequited love, mentions of sex, p in v sex, friends with benefits situation, mentions of casual sex (please do not read if you’re uncomfortable)

word count: 2k

author’s note: i had this idea floating around my head and decided to write a fic, i hope you like it! if you would like a part 2, please drop me an ask and i’ll get started on it! please remember to reblog, your feedback is appreciated!

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (2)

The bell that hung at the top of the doors dings and you automatically look up, already knowing who were your next customers, it was already seven on a Friday evening and just like clockwork, the bar doors swings open and in walks the group of aviators who you had overtime, while working for Penny grown to be close friends with.

You could hear Phoenix’s laughter from your bar table with Fanboy saying something about being sure he could beat her at darts this time around, well, she did definitely hold the right to laugh because as far as you or anyone’s concerned, no one could beat Phoenix at darts.

Your gaze meets a pair of emerald green eyes, irises that you would have easily recognized anywhere, and the man shoots you a smirk, almost as if he already knew you would be drawn to him the second he walks in.

“Don’t” You were pulled away when Penny came up to you, empty glasses of shots in hand as she swung her trusty rag over her shoulders, shooting you a look that screamed “don’t look at him”.

“We both know what he is (Y/N),” she says as she puts the glasses and a few other dirty plates into the dishwasher, leaning against the counter. “I know Pen, I’m not gonna do it,” you said, albeit with confidence that you knew deep down you sure as hell didn’t have, but then again, fake it till you make it.

It wasn’t fair that you loved his eyes, who on earth decided it was okay to give him those green eyes, and the way he would tell you things that you wanted to hear, things that none of your exes had ever said, and by god, were you a sucker for the sweet things he whispered into your ear.

“Alright, Mav’s calling me, take care of the bar for me?” Penny asks with a kind smile as she grabs her call, passing her orders to you. “Sure Pen” you reply, sighing when she walks away, perhaps a part of you did envy her relationship with Maverick, sure you knew their story which had started almost the same way as where you and Jake are now, and still, even then, here they are, happy, and you would be lying if you said that you did not harbour the thinnest slither of hope that somehow you and Jake would head up the same road as Penny and Maverick.

You swallow as you will yourself to not give the man a second look, allowing Jake Seresin back into the comfort of your bed was definitely not part of today's itinerary, oh no, you were not about to allow yourself to give in again.

You hadn’t heeded Penny’s, Mav’s, hell you had not listened to whatever anybody had to say about Hangman’s ways of luring woman after woman into his really strong, comfortable arms, staying just for the sex and not giving a hoot about the word, which you figured must be cursed in his dictionary.

Commitment.

You knew, and yet, you gave in to his advances, allowing his lips to mould with yours, throwing all caution into the wind, you barely had time to think when your fingers were carding through his hair, your hands wrapped around his neck as he hoists you up against the wall of your home, mouth pressing warm kisses down the sensitive skin of your neck.

No, you didn’t think when he had hiked your skirt up, hands roaming from the curve of your breasts to your ass, and no you definitely didn’t know what the hell you were getting into when he was finally buried balls deep in you, whispering sinful words into your ears as he urged you to cum for him, you did, your pussy clenching around him in a vice like grip, milking him dry.

When you both come down from your highs, you had watched as he zips up, not even staying for a beer before he was out of your door. It didn’t stop there, no, it happened twice, then thrice, and then, well, you weren’t in the habit of keeping count of exactly how many times you slept with Jake.

You glanced at the notebook, realising that you probably needed to start on the fries listed under the huge word, “orders”. You were about to busy yourself when you heard the chair squeak and you didn’t have to look up to know exactly who it was, the scent of his cedar-wood cologne was enough as it is.

“What’s up Sweets?” Jake starts, and you curse internally at how you reacted to that ridiculous nickname he gave you, after saying something along the lines how sweet you tasted when you were a moaning mess, fingers gripping his hair as he pressed his tongue to your clit just a few nights ago.

You hated yourself for how fast your heart was beating, too fast. “(Y/N)?” he continues and you finally look up, your eyes finally meeting his, and you try to ignore the smirk he wore on his face.

That stupid smirk that landed you in this mess.

“What is it Jake?” you replied and he chuckles, “I almost thought you were ignoring me angel” and you shrugged, “maybe I am” you shoot back and watch as he presses his hand to his chest playfully, “aww now I’m hurt” “Not my problem Seresin,” you reply a little too cooly as you drop the fries into the fryer, the snack sizzling as you prepared a basket for it.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Jake asks as he brings the mouth of his beer bottle to his lips. You did. You wanted to say but you stop yourself before words that you can’t take back slips out. “Nothing” You say, picking up the clean shot glasses from the dishwasher, cleaning them.

“Come on tell me baby” he pushes and you bite your lip, contemplating if you should tell him that he, Jake frickin’ Seresin, was the one that had made you, in his words, get your panties in a twist.

“I already said it’s nothing” you said and he chuckles, “fine angel, you can tell me later,” he says, that look on his face, that look that he had given you when you first met you and every subsequent time you had apparently fallen on his dick, your lips crashing against his, only for him to toss you aside once he was done.

“Stop” you said, breathing in deeply as you looked at him, the little script that you had drafted up spilling from your lips, “Stop this Jake”.

“What exactly do you want me to stop (Y/N)?”

You exploded, “this Seresin, because whatever we have going on, it has to stop, in fact, it doesn’t exist, because I. Am. Done. You do this every damn time Jake, come to the bar, say things that make me feel things I didn’t even know I could feel, y-you spin my world off its axis and then do absolutely nothing to bring it back.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Don’t you dare (Y/N) me Seresin, all we ever do is fuck and then you leave, I feel so damn empty inside and every time I feel that somehow we’re a little closer to having something real, you just leave! News flash Jake, I’m not another one of your playthings, I refuse to be.” You remonstrated, breathless once you were done, ignoring the looks that you had received from customers and Bob who had been in ear shot all along, giving you a look of sympathy as you picked up what little dignity you’ve left, swallowing hard as you force your tears back.

“(Y/N), listen-”

“I think you should go, go back t-to Coyote or something” you managed to say, voice shaky as you pick up the basket of fries, wiping the tears that escaped your eyes as you walk towards the tables, passing by Maverick who had just arrived, a look of what seemed like understanding flashing across his face as you walk past him, forcing a smile as you placed the food down on the customer’s table.

You turned back, wiping stray tears away with the back of your hand as you walked back to the bar, watching as Jake walked back to the pool table where Coyote hands him a pool cue stick, slapping his back as he tells Hangman to win the game against Rooster.

You felt his gaze on you and ignored it, you couldn’t do this, you were so deep in a hole that you had ironically dug for yourself, you fell so damn hard for Jake that you had somehow constructed a thought that whatever romantic daydreams that you had of him could become a reality.

You failed to notice how he constantly looked towards you, Jake’s heart ached in his chest as he struggled to not spill his thoughts of you, because out of all the women he had been with, he found himself drawing back to you, something about made him turn back, practically dropping all other flings, he was uninterested in them, he only wanted you.

He craved your scent, vanilla and strawberries, he pressed his palm to his pocket, feeling the outline of the keychain you had given him almost a year ago as a birthday gift.

Jake would never tell you how he carried this little trinket around with him in his pocket because he wanted to carry you with him wherever he went, even when he was in his favourite place, the skies. He had long ago treated this as one of his most treasured possessions, his lucky charm and he’d like to think you were his angel, keeping him safe.

Oh, he tried hard as hell to drive himself in the opposite direction, his mind screaming “abort” as he circles back to you, adoration filling him when he hears your laugh, if angels existed, you would easily be one of them, you were gorgeous, and you had a kind, compassionate heart to match.

He was afraid of saying those three little words that he always felt would tear him down, his father had during his childhood reminded him that emotions made a man weak and he had listened, refusing to admit he felt something for you, he was drawn to you like a moth to a burning flame. He couldn’t stop himself, every single wall he had built to stop your smile, the hope and light you radiated into his heart crumbled like sand, and oh, he fell so hard.

Leaving you in the middle of the night was never his intention, he wanted to stay, to hold you like a lover should, to press gentle kisses on your head, he wanted everything to do with you, but his ego and pride stood in the way of that ever happening.

He forced a smile as Coyote cheered after he beat Rooster, he gripped the neck of his beer bottle tightly, he knew your cheeks were tear stained from the way you were turning your back to the bar, refusing to let anyone know you’re hurt, only smiling when Penny returned because you didn’t want her to worry.

That was you, never wanting to ruin the mood, pretending to be alright when you were not, and he could always, always see through the fake smile that you wore during your bad days, and Jake in those moments wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms, tell you that it’s okay to be upset and that you didn’t have to shy away from it, that he was right there with you.

He wanted to protect you, to tell you he loves you, that he felt this little thing called love swell in his chest whenever you smiled, and now he couldn’t, he looks away, clenching his jaw as he grips the bottle so hard he almost thought he’d break it.

He could admit he loves you, hell, he’d go down on his damn knees if you asked him to.

But now, you had him pushed so far away, Jake didn’t know if he had the chance to ever go back into the warmth of your embrace, the embrace he didn’t know he would ever call home.

note: i hope you loved it! please remember to reblog, and if you would like a part 2 to this series, let me know!

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eqt-95 · 6 months

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a new kind of romance, pt 4

part 3 | zippers

🧁 | frosting

“Are you… baking?” Kara asked, nose sniffing toward the oven emitting scrumptious confetti-cake smells. She was interrupted only by the already-baked cupcakes sitting on the counter.

“Mhm,” Lena replied, wiping her fingers clean of powdered sugar. “No eating!”

“Wh-what?” Kara scowled, pulling away just in time to avoid a swat. “Why not?”

“They’re for Esme’s bake sale.”

“I don’t remember this being part of ‘godmother’ duties,” Kara pouted, collapsing onto a stool across from three dozen cooling cupcakes desperately wanting to be frosted, sprinkled, then inhaled by Kara Danvers, Girl of Steel and possessor of Bottomless Stomach.

“It’s not,” Lena laughed, “but Kelly called in a bind, and since I had the evening off-”

“To hang out with me,” Kara interrupted.

“-to hang out with you, yes, but I thought you could help me.”

“How?” Kara prodded, scanning the kitchen: the oven held four racks of baking tins, the dirty dishes were already churning away in the dishwasher, and there was a great, giant bowl of homemade buttercream sitting in front of Lena.

“Decorating,” Lena said cheerily. “But first, help me with this. It isn’t quite right; I think maybe too much lemon? Here:”

And then there was a finger.

A finger.

Extended.

Extended and dolloped with butter cream.

A butter-creamed finger hovering expectantly and Kara wasn’t sure if it was her heart stopping or the world halting on its axis. Because time definitely froze. The warm smile on Lena’s face, the dimples marking her cheeks, the bright spark in her eyes sat in the periphery of Kara’s eyes which were fixed and frantic and hungry, staring hesitantly - obsessively - at the perfectly extended digit.

“T-try-? It?”

“I need that discerning tongue of yours,” Lena said, and maybe if Kara wasn’t already struggling to overcome all of the thoughts flooding her brain, that comment might have sent her spiraling. Fortunately, that was already happening.

And maybe there was something mischievous glinting behind that sparkle in Lena’s eyes, but that was not something Kara had capacity to process because the finger was not moving.

And maybe subconsciously Kara licked her lips, but that was not something Kara had self-awareness for because the finger was not wavering.

And maybe that sent Lena’s eyebrow arching in a mix of curiosity and daring and her own unsated hunger, but that was not something Kara noticed because the finger was not backing down.

“No?” Lena asked, and her voice was low and caked in challenge. “Supergirl turning down a snack; I might have to-”

And whatever words Lena might have said were caught in a breathy gasp because Kara, automatic and unthinking, wrapped her lips around Lena’s outstretched finger and ran her tongue over the soft dollop of sugary goodness until nothing but the pad of Lena’s finger was left under it. And that’s when Kara registered the expression on Lena’s face and the dilated pupils that made her eyes glow dark and in stark contrast to the brightly lit kitchen.

And that was something Kara didn’t know what to do with. Because the tease didn’t feel so much like a tease anymore, and a line felt very close to being crossed and there certainly wasn’t a world where Lena Luthor would want Kara crossing that line because it wasn’t even a line Kara knew existed - even considered existed - until this moment and what even would it look like to cross that line? Soft and warm and heavenly and perfect and everything Lena Luthor already was but... more?

“Thoughts?”

None. How could Kara possibly have any thoughts when her mouth was still processing lines and the light, sweet, lemon-zesty flavors and textures and feeling of Lena’s finger and then - then - Lena’s question coming dry and throaty and nothing like her retreating, glistening wet finger?

“Uh.” Gerbils were more articulate. Anything was more articulate. But Kara didn’t have spare bandwidth to weigh in on that. Instead she braced herself against the countertop and breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth.

“Nothing?” Lena asked - teased.

“I-I just… I uhm…” Kara sputtered, her vision clouding and hands curling against the counter edge.

“Here, maybe you need another taste?”

And yea, Kara was absolutely going to be blamed for the giant crack that appeared in the countertop and blush furiously at the next game night and want to fly straight into the sun because “oh Rao.”

- - - - - - part 5 | could we? wood we?

#and yea i start half of these sentences in the middle of a conjunction. what am i gonna do about it... edit? i don't think so #and no i was not expecting to write these so quickly #but when we're talking about lena and frosting it sort of writes itself?#new romances #supercorp ficlet #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor

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