#Maroon Leather Jacket | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuujispinkhair · 9 months

Text

Heatwave

The hot weather triggers your heat unexpectedly, but your Alpha Sukuna takes good care of you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x Omega!Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff, omegaverse Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, omegaverse, going into heat, oral, breeding, knotting, praise, biting. Reader is contemplating getting pregnant in the future. Reader and Sukuna are mates. Reader is on birth control but still goes into heat. This is a modern AU. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Part two of my Heatwave Summer Series

It happens while you're at work. Suddenly, the air in your office feels too hot, almost suffocating. It's as if the heatwave that's holding the city in its chokehold those last few days is finally winning. But one look at the a/c tells you that it is still running at full power. You shouldn't feel so hot. Something is wrong. And it has nothing to do with the air conditioning in the SHRINE Group's fancy downtown office.

A strong wave of dizziness hits you, making you knock your coffee cup over, spilling its contents all over your desk. You curse and hastily get up to grab some paper tissues, only to clutch the desk tightly as a strong wave of nausea washes over you. You feel feverish, your pulse is fluttering. And then there is this throbbing. Your eyes widen.

You know these symptoms.

But it's not the right time! You cannot be in heat! Please, not now, not here at work!

Usually, your heat cycle is under control, and you can plan ahead, take your heat-leave from work, and get comfortable at home in your nest.

But an unexpected heat throws you into chaos. You cannot stay here! You need...

You are out the door in a heartbeat, swaying on unsteady feet but making your way hastily down the hallway towards the large door of the CEO's office, where he is.

Your husband, your mate, your Alpha.

Sukuna.

You are instinctively drawn to him, your mind and body screaming to see him and throw yourself into his strong arms and let him take care of you.

His assistant, Uraume, says something to you, but you cannot make sense of their words. All you know right now is that something is very wrong and that the only one who can make it right again is Sukuna. Before Uraume can stop you, you have already yanked open the door to the CEO's office.

Sukuna is sitting at his luxurious desk, looking as flawless as ever. The only sign that he acknowledges the unusual temperatures is that he has removed his suit jacket and is now in his dark red dress shirt, but his black tie is still perfectly in place.

You gulp when you see how the shirt accentuates his broad figure, hugging his buff muscles deliciously, showing how impressive he is. Not just any Alpha. Sukuna is THE Alpha in this city. Powerful, dominant, attractive, and intelligent. Deadly towards his rivals but caring towards you.

He sits in his leather chair as if it were his throne, oozing confidence and power. Tall and muscular, pink hair styled perfectly, combed back over his undercut, filigree black tattoos decorating his beautiful face enticingly.

His chin rests on the back of his left hand, next to the glittering wedding ring that shows he belongs to you.

His beautiful maroon eyes snap to the door, with a dangerous glint in them upon getting disturbed. But that expression melts into a soft one when Sukuna sees who entered his office. He smirks and raises one eyebrow.

"Oh, darling. Did you miss me?"

But his teasing manner gets replaced by a worried expression when he sees the feverish state you are in.

Sukuna is by your side only a second later, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you against his broad chest. He is always so protective of his mate. You snuggle against him gratefully, pushing your nose against your Alpha's shirt, inhaling his comforting scent as you cling to him.

Sukuna's face presses lightly against the side of your neck, sniffing you, too. His breath brushes over your skin, and suddenly, Sukuna tenses up against you. His arms tighten their hold around you, and a low growl escapes his lips,

"You are in heat."

Before you even know what's happening, Sukuna has already grabbed his suit jacket from his chair and holds it out for you,

"Put this on, sweetheart. Let's get you home."

He gently puts the jacket over your shoulders, wrapping you in his scent while leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your neck. You almost sob in relief.

Sukuna's right hand comes to rest on the small of your back, and he gently but firmly steers you towards the door. You pass his assistant's desk, who hurries to get up, but Sukuna makes them stop with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Uraume, I will be out of the office for the rest of the day. Probably tomorrow, too. Please re-schedule all my appointments."

He keeps you in front of him while you walk down the hallway towards the elevator. The strong Alpha protecting his mate. Shielding your back, pressing his tall and muscular body against you.

No one would be crazy enough to dare approach Sukuna's omega, yet he never lets his guard down when it comes to you. The thought makes your heart ache with how much you love him.

There are some curious glances coming from some of your coworkers that you pass in the hallway, but Sukuna growls at them in a deadly calm voice,

"Get back to work. If I catch anyone so much as breathing in her scent, you are fired."

Your heart and your pussy throb for him.

You make it to the elevator and down to the underground parking space, where Sukuna helps you gently into his car.

You sound a bit hysterical when you say,

"I... I don't understand what is going on, Kuna. It's much too soon for my heat to start. And it feels... it feels different. Stronger somehow. It doesn't feel right!"

But Sukuna's voice is calm, velvety like a warm caress, instantly soothing your nerves,

"I have heard of cases where a sudden climate change triggered a heat. Maybe the current heatwave is to blame for this. Don't worry, my love. I am going to look after you."

He smiles his most charming smile at you. His large hand cups your cheek and caresses it lovingly, soothing you and reassuring you that things will be okay.

You smile at him gratefully,

"Thank you, Kuna. But you have that important meeting with the Infinity Group in an hour. I feel bad that I am keeping you from work..."

Sukuna huffs and shakes his head,

"It doesn't matter, darling. Uraume can re-schedule it. You will always be more important to me than work or anything else. I am your Alpha and your mate. I provide for you. I take care of you at all times. And now, lean back and try to relax while I drive us home so I can take proper care of you."

His beautiful maroon eyes glitter as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it tenderly while he fixes you with a gaze that holds so much fierceness and intensity that it leaves no room for doubt.

This is a command from your Alpha, and you will obey.

His words make something primal in you come alive. A soft moan escapes your lips, and your legs press together automatically as the all-too-familiar throbbing in your core flares up at your Alpha's words.

Yes, you need him to take proper care of you. You need him to breed you, to stuff you full of his Alpha cock and his hot seed.

You whine as you feel your slick coating your pussy lips, drenching your panties and probably the fine leather seat beneath you, too.

But you manage a nod and let out a long breath as you lean back in your seat and snuggle even deeper into Sukuna's suit jacket, burying your nose in the collar of it and breathing in your Alpha's scent deeply while Sukuna turns up the a/c and backs out of the parking space.

The moment you step into your penthouse apartment, you feel relief wash over you. Yes, this feels right. This is where you are supposed to be today. Here in your home, in your nest, where everything is safe and smells like your mate.

You feel a sob finding its way out of your lips as you slump against the wall.

The cool air-conditioned air of the apartment should feel good on your skin. It should help you cool down again. But it doesn't. This form of heat cannot be tamed. You still need so much more.

Your legs press together involuntarily as you feel another violent throbbing between your thighs, even more intense than the last one. A deep craving so feral that it cannot be silenced. Your panties are wet with your slick. They stick to your swollen pussy uncomfortably.

Your body is preparing itself for your Alpha. Slicked-up cunt, wet and hot, ready to get mounted and stuffed full of a big knot and generous amounts of seed.

The thought alone is enough to make you tremble. You need your Alpha, your mate, your husband. You need Sukuna. You need his strong arms around you, need his soothing low voice, need the comfort of his buff body against you, his firm muscles under your hands, and the bliss of his knot deep inside your aching cunt.

You shudder with arousal when he steps up to you, caging you between his beefy body and the wall. His strong arms wrap around you, steadying you and enveloping you in your mate's familiar, intoxicating scent.

Sukuna smells of cherry blossoms and smoke and a warm, rich flavor that you associate with a deep red color, like love, passion, red wine and autumn leaves. Warm and sexy, comforting like home, and powerful like a wildfire burning down whole cities in its way.

He leans down to press his face against your neck, breathing you in deeply, finally allowing himself to let go now that you are in your shared home. A low growl escapes his mouth as his lips caress your skin.

"Fuck. Your scent drives me crazy. My sweet little omega needs me so bad."

You can only whine in response, helplessly getting swallowed by the primal instinct that always takes hold of you during your heat. You aren't in control anymore. From now on, it's raw instinct. The primal need to get bred.

Your hands cling to Sukuna's muscular back as you press yourself needily against your Alpha's tall, strong body. You can smell his need for you, the scent of his arousal so musky and thick and seductive that it makes your head spin. His hardness is pressing against you through his suit pants, cock already swelling for you, filling for his omega that needs to get mounted and stuffed full of a big Alpha cock.

It's how nature intended it. An omega in heat and a strong Alpha to take care of them.

And your Alpha is the strongest Alpha you ever encountered. Powerful and dominant like no other. So dedicated to providing for you, to take care of you.

Sukuna claims your lips with a heated and passionate kiss, pushing you against the wall, making you moan needily into his mouth as he licks into you with hungry, deep strokes of his tongue. But the kiss only lasts for a moment, and you whine at the loss of Sukuna's mouth on yours when he pulls away with one last open-mouthed flick of his tongue against yours.

You feel feverish with need as your Alpha drops to his knees in front of you. A sight that always leaves you breathless. To see this powerful man on his knees for you. On his knees for his mate, for his wife. He looks up at you with glimmering maroon eyes and that typical sexy smirk on his handsome face.

You exhale shakily, but it comes out as a growl as your instincts take over, your heat making you a victim of your body's most primal urge.

"A.. Alpha.. please...I need you...aah ah. Kuna..."

"I got you, darling. I'll take good care of you, my love."

Sukuna's voice is so low and sexy that it makes your pussy twitch with need, overflowing with your creamy slick. His large hands land on your thighs, steadying you, fixing you to the wall, strong fingers that leave bruises on their way, but it's what you need in those moments. Getting marked and claimed by your Alpha.

You shudder under his touch, your body instantly reacting to your Alpha's loving hands. A thin rivulet of slick is slowly running down your left thigh, feeling cold on your heated skin when the air-conditioned air lands on it.

But the chilly feeling gets replaced by the velvety warmth of Sukuna's tongue. He growls in the back of his throat while he catches your creamy slick with his tongue, slowly following the trail up your thigh, licking it off your skin, making you moan and tremble, almost coming undone.

Your hands reach out blindly to tangle in Sukuna's soft pink hair, tugging desperately on it, pulling him needily to where you need him the most. To that throbbing wild ache between your legs. But Sukuna is already one step ahead of you. His large, strong hands run up your thigh, slipping under your skirt and pushing it up to reveal your soaked-through panties to his intense gaze.

You whimper when you see the hunger in your Alpha's eyes. He desires you just as much as you desire him.

A second later, Sukuna's beautiful face is pressed against your drenched lace panties, his soft lips attached to your puffy clit, sucking it through the thin fabric. Your hips buck and a feral-sounding cry falls from your lips as your head falls back against the wall with a soft thud.

You push your wet heat needily against Sukuna's face, tugging on his hair, moaning his name so loud and desperately that you would be ashamed under other circumstances. But today, your most primal instincts have taken hold of you, and you cannot be bothered to care about how horny you sound.

A tearing sound is heard. Sukuna ripped your panties off you, exposing your soaked, puffy cunt to his hungry eyes, making both of you growl, filling the penthouse with your mating calls.

Sukuna pushes his nose between your pussy lips, making it rub over your sensitive, swollen clit, drawing another loud, needy moan from your lips.

You are hypnotized by the sight of your Alpha rubbing his pretty face against your pussy, smearing your cream over his gorgeous features, and watching you while he does so with desire and love clearly visible in his maroon eyes.

It's so messy. You are so messy, pussy overflowing with slick, clearly in a full-blown heat, luring your Alpha in with your scent, demanding his seed, his knot, his pups. It's pure primal need at this point. A state that leaves you a horny, needy mess every time.

Sukuna buries his face between your spread legs, growling lowly. Your head spins when you see him take a deep breath, inhaling your scent hungrily.

"You smell so good, darling. I'm going to breed you all night."

His voice is low, dripping with sex and arousal and dominance. His tongue flicks over your wet clit, making your legs give away. But Sukuna's hands hold you in their firm grip, pushing you against the wall and fixing you there as his tongue moves through your slicked-up folds, tasting you, drinking you. He pushes his long, hot tongue into you, eliciting a cry from you as your eager pussy twitches wildly around his muscle.

But it's not enough to satisfy the craving you feel. You need his cock. You need his hot seed filling you until you are so full of it that you are overflowing.

Your Alpha knows this, of course. Before you can beg him for more, Sukuna is already back on his feet again, towering over you so tall and big, growling in the back of his throat as he looks at you with a fire in his eyes and a massive bulge in his black slacks.

He swoops you up into his buff arms, making you whimper with need. You can't help but feel your pulse flutter at how small you feel in the arms of this huge Alpha. He is such a beast, so strong, so big. And he is so dedicated to fuck you right. To fuck your heat away.

"I'll take care of you, my sweet little omega-wife. Your Alpha's gonna take good care of you."

You nod feverishly, feeling the sweat run down your back and more slick coating your swollen pussy lips as Sukuna carries you princess style to the bedroom, one large hand slipping between your legs to play with your pussy, caressing it tenderly, fucking you slowly with this thick thumb, taking care of you until you can get his big Alpha cock to satisfy your need.

Your hands run over his muscular chest, needily clawing at his clothes in your desperation to feel your Alpha's skin on yours.

He smiles when he places you carefully on the King-sized bed. It is a display of power, proving just how powerful of an Alpha Sukuna is that he is able to stay in control even when his omega is in heat and exuding pheromones that make Sukuna's cock throb.

His touch is firm and sure when he undresses you, removing your clothes until you are completely naked, every inch of your skin brimming with need and lust, your needy cunt oozing slick onto the silk bedding, begging to get touched by your Alpha.

You feel feverish as you watch your husband get undressed, taking off his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing more and more of his tattoed skin and firm muscles.

He pushes down his slacks and black boxer briefs to reveal his Alpha cock to your hungry gaze, resting thick and strong against his taut abs. A fat vein is pulsating gorgeously on the underside, and two black rings are tattoed around the thick base to show Sukuna's status as a powerful Alpha. His cock stands rock-hard, leaking milky pre-cum. His balls are taut and round, heavy with his precious seed that contains the antidote to your ache.

A desperate sob escapes your lips. Your chest heaves with your excited breaths, almost hyperventilating in your need for Sukuna.

Your legs are already spread, and you pull them to your chest, instinctively presenting yourself to the powerful Alpha in front of you, presenting him your breedable cunt, wet and needy. Ready to get claimed by his fat cock.

Your breath hitches in your throat as Sukuna's glittering gaze lands on you, a smirk lifting the corners of his lips as he takes in your naked, willing body, so wild for him and his knot.

He slowly walks over to the bed, maroon eyes watching you hungrily. Like a predator stalking his prey, the big bad wolf who is about to take his victim. A very willing victim, though. His mate, with a scar in the shape of his canines on your neck, with a wedding band on your ring finger, with a wet cunt that aches for his knot.

He is your man. Your Alpha. There could never be another for you. You are Sukuna's for life.

You submit to him eagerly when he crawls over you, naked and muscular, with his buff muscles and black tattoos fully on display for your love-drunk eyes. So big and strong on top of you. Your Alpha. Your mate. Your whole world.

He smiles at you while his maroon eyes glimmer with that fire they always get when he is about to mount you and fuck your heat away.

His lips catch yours in a deep kiss, tongue licking sensually into your mouth, making your pussy twitch and your hands run needily up and down his broad, muscular back. His thick mushroom tip drips his hot pre-cum onto your belly, making you hiss into the kiss with need.

Sukuna flicks his tongue against yours once more before he pulls away to grin at you,

"Turn around, darling. On your stomach, like a good girl. I want to breed you right. You need me extra deep in you today, don't you, omega?"

But your mind is too blurry to answer him. It doesn't matter, though, because Sukuna is there to take control. To take care of you. His large, strong hands are already grabbing your hips and flipping you over on your stomach, so dominant, so strong, but so gentle and loving at the same time.

You keen into the silk pillow underneath your face that smells of your Alpha, lifting your ass needily for him, offering yourself to him, begging to get mated and knotted.

You are in good hands with Sukuna. In the best hands. He is the most powerful Alpha of this city, or maybe even of this whole country. And he fucks you like the natural leader that he is.

He pushes your thighs apart, lowering his beefy body on top of you, pressing you down into the mattress, offering the comfort of his heavy weight on top of you.

He rolls his hips against you, making his thick, wet cockhead slap your puffy clit several times before it catches on your slicked-up hole, making you writhe beneath him in your horny need to get taken by your Alpha.

You cry loudly into the pillow when Sukuna snaps his hips and buries his fat cock deep inside your needy cunt with one powerful thrust.

You orgasm the moment he is sheaved fully inside you, pussy twitching needily around him, slick gushing over him, welcoming him with the first orgasm of many, milking his fat cock wildly, begging for his fertile seed to fill you. Begging him to fuck his pups into you.

Your hands claw helplessly at the silk pillow as you try to get more of your man, lifting your ass and pressing against him, moaning and crying, face wet with tears while you sob and whine for his cock and his seed and his knot.

"More...please...Alpha...more...oh god...Sukuna!!"

But your Alpha is there for you, soothing you. Dominant and strong. Sukuna leans down to kiss your neck, resting even more of his weight on you. One of his large hands captures both your wrists in his firm grip and fixes them above your head, restraining you effortlessly, stopping your desperate movements.

You sob in relief, feeling so taken care of with your Alpha's buff body on top of you, restraining you, anchoring you on his cock.

The headboard of your bed thumps rhythmically against the wall as Sukuna fucks you into the mattress with deep, hard strokes of his big Alpha cock. He is so deep inside you, rutting into your needy, wet cunt with his powerful thrusts, mounting you hard and unrelentingly.

He knows exactly what his omega needs. Knows how to breed you the right way to fuck you through your heat.

His big Alpha cock makes you squeal and cry with lust as he fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you. Sukuna growls against your neck, low and sexy, making your head spin. He sounds so hot. So full of primal need, too.

Your cunt clenches greedily around his fat Alpha cock when you feel him cum for the first time, filling you with the first thick load of his hot seed. You're crying as you milk him eagerly, taking all his precious, fertile seed deep into you, your body so eager to carry his pups.

Sharp teeth graze over your skin, and then Sukuna bites your neck and marks you up again, right where he left his first mark on you when he mated you and made you his for life. His name falls from your lips in a needy moan.

Sukuna's hips move rhythmically, rutting into you with savage, deep thrusts. His cock is stroking all the right places inside you, and his heavy balls full of seed smack wetly against your pussy with every powerful thrust, loud and wet, spreading your slick everywhere. It's drooling out of your cunt and onto his balls, making a mess on his cock and the bed, getting fucked back into you with every hard snap of your Alpha's hips.

It drives you wild. You are lost in your heat, growling and whining for your strong Alpha to fuck all the madness away.

And Sukuna does just that. He always makes everything feel right again. He always takes all the chaos and turns it into something he has under control. So dominant, so strong. He is the master of your heat.

Sukuna fucks you for hours without any sign of weakness. His cock stays rock hard all the time, swollen and thick, so perfect for filling you and making you cum again and again until you are so exhausted that you tremble weakly under his muscular body. But you know you don't have to do anything. You have Sukuna to take care of you.

He gives you anything you need. His cock, his seed, his love.

His low, velvety voice is so sexy when he leans down to whisper in your ear while he humps your soaking wet pussy slowly,

"Yeah, like that, my sweet thing. Taking your Alpha's seed so well. You would carry my pups so well. You are such a good omega for me."

You whine loudly, trying to reply to him, but at this point, you are just a babbling mess, crying and sobbing, trying desperately to get even more of Sukuna, even though you are already stuffed to the hilt with his thick Alpha cock, your cunt overflowing with his hot cum.

But Sukuna knows what you need. Of course, he does. You don't have to tell him.

"Shhh. I know, sweetheart. I know. I got you. Relax, my love."

His voice is soothing, full of dominance and love, and you feel his soft, warm lips caress your neck tenderly right over your mating mark before they press a lingering kiss to it.

"I'll give you my knot. I'll give you all of me."

He bucks his hips, pushing his thick cock as deep into your slick cunt as possible, stuffing you with it, and pressing you down into the bed with his weight. And then you feel it. The stretch.

The swelling at the base of Sukuna's cock is growing steadily, stretching your pussy around his growing knot. He is so huge, so powerful, the Alpha of all Alphas, and that shows in his size.

You always struggle to take all of him, to take his massive knot. But you crave it tonight. You need it desperately. You need to be claimed fully by your Alpha. You need to be plugged with Sukuna's fat knot for hours, keeping all his hot seed inside your aching omega cunt that's begging for his pups.

Sukuna trails kisses over your neck, soothing you, helping you relax. He lets go of your wrists, so he can massage your puffy clit, helping you become loose for his huge knot.

"It's ok, my love. Just let go. I'm gonna knot you so good."

You whine, eyes rolling back in bliss when you feel his fat knot swell even more, filling you so completely. You're his. You're Sukuna's. You aren't going anywhere. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't run from him. He has you on his knot, and your whole body is covered by his buff, muscular body. It's perfect. It makes you feel so taken care of. So loved.

Sukuna groans, moaning your name softly, praising you for being such a good omega for him and letting him knot you. His large hands come up to cover the backs of your much smaller hands, interlacing his fingers with yours.

Hot tears of bliss run down your cheeks and into the silk pillow beneath you. You are surrounded by Sukuna. He is your whole world. He is all you know in those frantic moments of primal fucking. His big muscular body feels so perfect on top of you, his fat knot plugging your twitching cunt, keeping all his warm seed deep inside your aching cunt. His enticing, musky Alpha scent is everywhere, filling your nostrils, making your head spin from the love you feel for him.

This is the closest you can be to someone. Knotted by your Alpha. Completely giving yourself to him, submitting to him entirely, trusting him with everything. You sob Sukuna's name, your voice so full of love and devotion, mumbling incoherently as your head spins and your pussy throbs around his huge, swollen knot.

And he humps you slowly, as much as his fat knot allows. Slow, gentle thrusts that make his swollen cockhead rub your sweet spot, fucking you into a state of complete bliss. He growls praise into your ear every time you orgasm on his knot, telling you how good you are for him.

This is where you want to stay forever. Here in your bed, in your nest, where Sukuna mates you, fucks you, claims you over and over again. Where he cums in you over and over again, filling you with rope after rope of his hot seed while he growls your name and groans in your ear.

Your orgasms become more gentle with time, building up slowly only to make you cry in relief when they wash over you, so good, so intense that you feel like you are floating. You shudder around your Alpha's cock, whining his name and milking him with your convulsing pussy, taking all his thick loads of Alpha seed into your needy cunt.

It's dark by now. Only the moonlight and the city lights outside your window illuminate the bedroom, but you and Sukuna remain in your mating position. His thick Alpha cock and knot stuffing your omega cunt, your bodies pressing tightly against each other. Your movements grow slower, and loud growls and cries of pleasure turn into soft moans and whispered words of love. After a while, Sukuna rolls the two of you onto the side, pulling the blanket over you, getting more comfortable. But he keeps you on his cock and his knot all the time.

You sigh dreamily as Sukuna wraps you in his muscular arms, holding you tightly, kissing your neck while whispering the sweetest things to you. He is so good to you, so loving and sweet. Mating you, anchoring you, satisfying you for as long as you need.

You smile, almost delirious with happiness and love, feeling so full and taken care of.

"This is perfect. Please stay like this, Kuna. Don't go, please."

He laughs softly, sounding warm and full of love.

"I'm not going anywhere, my love. I am not leaving when my darling needs me so bad. I have all day and night to knot you and fill you with my seed. I love you, baby."

He cups your chin with one of his large hands and tilts your head back to capture your lips in a deep, hungry kiss while his Alpha cock pulses another load of hot cum into you. Sukuna's lips are soft against yours, his tongue stroking yours tenderly. Deep, passionate kisses that grow calmer eventually, turning into slow, sensual caresses.

You stay like that the whole night.

Sukuna lets you have his knot for hours. The sun is already rising again over the city, bathing the skyscrapers in its warm golden light, when the swell of Sukuna's knot slowly starts to subside.

He finally slips out of you, but not without kissing you tenderly, making sure you know he is still there for you. He's such a caring mate. Such a good Alpha.

You smile at Sukuna when he gets up from the bed. His warm maroon gaze meets yours, and he grins at you, making you marvel at how beautiful he is, with his buff muscles and filigree tattoos, with the soft expression on his gorgeous face, his half-hard cock still glistening from your slick and his seed while the sun rises behind him outside the floor to ceiling windows of your penthouse.

Sukuna picks up the shirt he abandoned on the floor yesterday and hands it to you.

"Here, sweetheart, something for your nest. Get cozy while I get breakfast for you."

You sigh happily as you snuggle into your bed, holding Sukuna's shirt tightly and inhaling his comforting scent. You feel so content, so calm, and so loved. Wrapped in your Alpha's scent, filled with his cum, and marked by his teeth. Just like it should be.

A wave of gratefulness washes over you. You are so lucky to have Sukuna as your mate, as your Alpha. He is so strong and caring, always loving and breeding you right.

You are on birth control, so his seed won't take. But you catch yourself thinking that maybe one day, you will have Sukuna's pups. Maybe soon, it'll be time to give this world a few more strong Alphas like him.

AAAAHHH ALPHA SUKUNA DRIVES ME FERAL 💗😭 This story became much longer than intended. But I cannot be blamed. I am just a little omega, and naturally, Alpha Sukuna makes me lose control A LOT lmaooo.

I hope you enjoyed this story and that Alpha Sukuna could comfort you with his dominant and caring nature ;)

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #tw omegaverse

3K notes · View notes

waytray · 2 years

Text

yall get Ready i’m wearing ches for halloween

#i've got the maroon shirt and the leather jacket #halloween 2022 #ches metal family #kitten speaks

0 notes

blackfurcoat93 · 2 years

Text

Izombie S03 Rose McIver Maroon Leather Jacket

Click To Shop Now ROSE MCIVER IZOMBIE SEASON 03 LIV OLIVIA MOORE MAROON LEATHER JACKET

#ROSE MCIVER #IZOMBIE SEASON 03 #LIV OLIVIA MOORE #MAROON #LEATHER #JACKET

1 note · View note

elliesbelle · 1 year

Text

nobody compares to you

chapter 1

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you’re in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, use of marijuana, use of alcohol, sexual speech and content, anxiety attack, homophobia, brief mentions of predatory men, potential smut in the future so minors do not interact, a little bit enemies to lovers

word count: 3.6k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

You lean against the living room wall, holding three of your friends’ purses along with your own. The intoxication from a cup of jungle juice from an hour ago was beginning to wear off. You didn’t mean to become the unofficial mom friend of the group tonight, but your reluctance to endure more close-quartered gyrating cemented the position. If you had to utter another “excuse you” to an incredibly handsy frat boy, you’d be getting kicked out for an aggravated assault attempt.

You didn’t really mind sobering up a bit, not tonight. Whether it was your hazy thoughts or the particular ambience in this frat house, you just weren’t in a huge mood to socialize.

Earlier this morning, your friends had flooded your group chat with enthusiastic messages about yet another party happening later that night. It was a regular fall Saturday at your university, which meant there was always a rager or two.

You were perfectly fine tagging along with your friend group to these events, though. You were well aware of your friends’ ulterior motives in pushing you to come out, but you chose to ignore it. Instead, you’d allowed them to hype you up while getting ready earlier that evening. Some pre-gaming had ensued in the form of vodka shots, and sharing of eyeshadow palettes & lipsticks had occurred when dolling up pre-party.

“Babes, if you don’t teach me how to do my eye makeup the way you do, I swear…” Your friend Sidney whined next to you as she watched your steady hand apply finishing touches to your eyes.

You chuckled but said nothing as you set your liquid eyeliner down and reached for your setting spray. There was no need for such meticulous styling to your makeup for some trivial frat party. You mostly did it for your own satisfaction, but a particular memory had tugged at your brain with every brush stroke. But this memory remained unacknowledged as you fanned your newly set face.

You’d allowed yourself a revealing outfit tonight: a lacy black bralette peaking from underneath a maroon leather jacket and a tight black miniskirt that flounced with the slightest movement. Peaking from underneath your shirt was a pair of fishnet stockings. Topping it off was your favourite pair of knee-high black boots. This particular attire garnered squeals and wolf whistles from your friends in their equally slutty outfits.

A couple of hours later, however, your appearance was a contradiction to your spiritless demeanor. You were tired and sweaty, the majority of your foundation having been perspired off in this sauna of a gathering. Feet blistering as a betrayal of high-heel boots, you struggled to keep yourself upright against the wall.

“Hey, hot stuff.” An approaching voice says.

Your eyes darted to the sound, ready to hurl a harsh “fuck off” at whatever creep decided to enter your sobering bubble. But upon spotting the culprit, you relaxed immediately.

“Hey, Jesse.” You exhaled.

“Damn, you looked like you were gonna rip me a new one just now.” He chuckled.

“Sorry, sorry. You know how it can be at these shit parties.”

Jesse was a rare guy friend of yours. You didn’t make a habit of befriending boys at college, but he was an exception.

You’d met him freshman year when your friend group merged with another on the way to some start-of-the-year party. After some mutual friends introduced you, you hit it off almost immediately.

Jesse was easy to talk to, never a creep or too invasive. You loved his dumb dad jokes and loyal nature. He never hit on you, even before finding out you were a lesbian. During tough times in recent years, he was there for you. He was a genuine guy who you’d instinctively trust your drink with. And right now, he was good company to have when you were alone and wistful at these stressful shindigs.

“I get it, dude. But mom friend again tonight?” He asks, gesturing to the mass of purses in your hands.

You shrug and reply, “It’s cool.”

“Man, you’ve danced probably a total of three times at one of these things since last year. Are you even having fun?”

“Eh. After three years, I’m a senior citizen.”

“So what does that make me, since I’m graduating this year?” He asks, mockingly put his hands on his hips.

“Ancient,” You reply, sticking your tongue out at him.

Jesse places a hand on his chest and gasps dramatically, replying, “Fucking rude.”

You chuckle.

“I’m really okay, though.” You reassure him. “The girls wanted to go out tonight, but I’m just a bit tired.”

“Tired or overstimulated?”

You smile at his understanding.

“Both.”

He chuckles.

“Some cool people are passing around a fat ass joint outside. Wanna join?”

You hold up the handful of purses you were tasked to guard as a response.

“Alright, gimme,” He says, reaching his hand out. “Mom friend substitute while you go get high.”

“You don’t wanna smoke?”

“It’s cool, that’s where I’ve been for the last half hour or so. I should cool off for a little bit anyways.”

You feel guilty for leaving Jesse to watch your belongings, even for a few short minutes. But his fingers wiggle expectantly and you know there was no point in arguing.

“Thanks, dude.” You exhale as you hand off your weight. “Probably been needing a few hits of a j all night, anyway.”

“Looks like it. Go ahead; D’s out there smoking with them if you wanna say hi.”

“Oh, nice. Haven’t seen her tonight yet. Be back in a sec, then.”

You tear yourself off from your spot on the wall and will your blistered feet to move towards the door. Not absolutely sober yet, you stumble across the living room before you could push past the screen door and into the brisk October air. Following the smell of pot laced with lavender in the air, you see a circle of people hanging out by a parked Jeep, illuminated slightly by the embers of a joint being passed around.

Lavender?

“Oh, fuck.” You say a little too loudly.

A few heads turn towards your voice, one of which was Dina’s.

“Hey, babe! I didn’t know you were here!” She says enthusiastically, approaching you with a bounce in her step. She pulls you into a brief but tight embrace.

“Been here for the past hour, D.” You laugh nervously. “Where have you been?”

“Been helping El’s lazy ass roll a fuckton of j’s for the past half hour that she was supposed to roll for customers before the party. But now, we’re just chilling. Want a hit?”

Dina’s chin tilts towards the Jeep. Your eyes follow her aim to the girl sitting on its hood. Your breathing stops when you see the very person you were hoping not to encounter tonight.

She was unmistakable in a simple grey, unbuttoned flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves to show off an arm tattoo, slightly distressed jeans, and her old Converse sneakers. A few strands of auburn hair fell in front of her face out of the usual half-bun. You watch as her eyebrows—the right one with its notable slit slashed through—furrowed in concentration as she attempts to relight the joint in her pursed lips.

Your throat closes up and you feel your heart clench tightly in your chest.

Ellie.

You immediately redirect your eyes back to Dina before Ellie can look up from behind her left hand shielding the lighter from the slight breeze.

“Uh, no. I’m good. Just needed to step out for a hot sec. Needed a breather from the sea of raging hormones in there.”

Another breeze suddenly hits your exposed skin, colder than the last. You figure this was a good way to excuse yourself back into the house.

“I’m about to freeze my tits off out here, though. Gonna head back in.” You hug your arms around your bare stomach, goosebumps starting to form.

You begin to turn right back around, but Dina grabbed your arm.

“Oh! You came with Sidney and them, right? She said you were all planning on going to Sterling’s after this.”

“We were?” You ask, thrown off and a little irritated that your friends hadn’t consulted you in this change of plans.

“Yeah! We’re gonna come with ‘cause I’m craving a blueberry pancake bad and Jesse’s deranged self wants a strawberry milkshake.” Dina affectionately rolls her eyes. “Just let us know when you leave? We’ll head out with you.”

“Um, sure.” Your heart begins to pound twice its normal speed.

By “we,” did she mean—?

“Okay, yay! We should go soon ‘cause I feel the munchies creeping up on me. I blame El for smoking me out as thanks for my rolling services.”

The auburn-haired girl smirks at Dina’s comment, but you refuse to look at her this time. Instead, your eyes trail after the joint that Ellie was now passing to the girl to her left.

The girl looked unfamiliar, but something in her face and posture screamed “freshman.” A brown motorcycle jacket was laying on top of her shoulders. Joel’s old motorcycle jacket. Ellie’s jacket.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and settle for pursing your lips.

Chivalrous fuckboy graciously offering her jacket to a beautiful lady. Typical Ellie Williams move.

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on whether Ellie had decided to lend her dad’s old jacket to a pretty stranger or a new girlfriend. You certainly don’t allow yourself to settle on which scenario would hurt your feelings more. And you definitely don’t dwell on the fact that she’s pulled this move on you more than once in the past.

The girl takes no notice of your gaze as she accepts the joint, taking a hit.

“I love that you always add lilac to these, Ellie. It smells so much better than a regular j.”

Biting back the impulse to correct the girl, you merely look back at Dina to say, “Right. I’ll see y’all in a bit then, D?”

“Sounds perfect. We’ll be here!” She replies happily.

You give her a quick smile before returning inside the house, ignoring the green eyes now watching your departing figure.

You don’t know how, but you know for a fact that Ellie’d been staring at you ever since she heard you mention your freezing tits and unintentionally pushed your breasts together when you’d grabbed your exposed stomach.

You walk through the front door and head straight for the bathroom that was just to the right. It wasn’t clear at the moment why you’d known that there was a half bath in this direction, but you were busy catching your breath to care.

The bright, ugly fluorescents illuminating from the bathroom ceiling was sobering you up quickly. You wished you had gotten drunker. Trying to recall some breathing techniques an old therapist had taught you, your eyes fall on your appearance in the mirror.

Not awful. I still look kind of hot.

You reassure yourself that Ellie had only gotten a dim glimpse of you and hadn’t gotten a chance to notice how flushed you looked.

Is it from the alcohol or was it from seeing her again so close after all these months?

You could bail from the party now. Tell your friend group chat that you were heading home and text Dina separately, saying you weren’t feeling well.

I can’t…

It takes you about five seconds to scrap that plan. You weren’t that type of friend to just bail, especially not when you’ve got drunk friends who were all girls surrounded by creeps or creep-adjacent frat boys. Plus, you’ve barely seen Dina and Jesse since the start of the school year. You could set aside your selfishness for one night and endure Ellie for just a little while.

It’s okay. It’ll be like old times, except I ignore her the whole night.

You hadn’t noticed that you were tearing up a little. Quickly but delicately, you wipe any tears threatening to fall, carefully avoiding smudging your eye makeup.

I shouldn’t be letting her get to me tonight.

You give yourself a half-hearted pep talk that works, to an extent. Using your fingers to brush out strands of hair off your sweaty forehead and straightening your skirt out, you convince yourself to emerge from the bathroom and hunt down the man who led you to face Ellie.

You find him easily, not far away from the spot you had previously occupied from the wall.

“Jess…” You begin as you approach the raven-haired boy.

He was conversing with a frat boy, yours and your friends’ purses now either draped on his shoulder or slung around his chest. You would have giggled at this adorable image if you weren’t slightly ticked off by him.

Jesse sees you approaching and calls your name, beckoning you towards him and his conversation partner.

“Yo, tell Adam about Ellie’s dope ass joints that she laces with that lavender shit.” He points at you with his thumb. “Her idea, originally.”

“Huh,” Adam says. “Kinda cool. Not something I’d do for myself, but I know she’s always got primo shit. Must be a nice touch with the strains she got.”

You let out a noncommittal “mhm” and look back at Jesse, who has a sympathetic and apologetic smile on his face.

“You irritate my life, Jess,” You say, leaving out the guy Adam from the conversation.

“Sorry. It’s all out of love, my friend.” He replies, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Did you end up taking a hit?”

You glare at him and he chuckles.

“Thought I’d try. I’m sorry.” He says, sighing in defeat. “Dina tell you we’re going with you guys to Sterling’s after this?”

“Is she coming along with us, Jess?”

“We’re a codependent trio, so yes. Hey, that rhymed.” He snickers at his own joke.

You groan.

“I think I’ll head home instead.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. Just hang out with me and Dina. We really miss you and we’ve barely seen you. You don’t have to talk to her.”

“What happened to being a codependent trio?” You challenge.

“Our marriage counselor said to work on boundaries,” Jesse says jokingly.

You sigh.

“You wanna go now, then?” You say, relenting.

“Sure, I’m craving a strawberry milkshake real bad.”

You roll your eyes.

“Let me go round up the girls. We’ll meet you outside?” You say, reaching for the purses.

He waves you off and says, “I got it, girl. See you in a sec.”

You give him a tentative smile and proceed to the basement of the frat house.

After you successfully herded your friends, all of whom were at different levels of drunkenness, you ushered them upstairs to the living room and towards the front door.

You had your arm around one of your more intoxicated friends, who all of a sudden exclaims in her drunken stupor, “Babe, we should come to this frat’s parties more often! We haven’t been since freshman year!”

This stops you in your tracks, almost pulling your friend into you.

Ahh, you thought.

That’s why you’d been apprehensive about this house since arriving. This was the very same frat house where you’d met Ellie Williams for the first time. You met her the same night you met Jesse. You’d spent an hour or two conversing with her on a shabby couch in that same living room. The same house where those ocean green eyes pierced yours for the first time. The same house where you’d begun a “friendship” with someone who ultimately broke your heart.

Uttering a quick apology to your friend, you nudge her forward to exit the house you had no desire to remain in.

The twenty-minute journey from the frat to Sterling’s Diner did not seem long enough to you. Though you were longing to sit and rest your sore feet (you gave up a seat on the bus to one of your drunker friends who could barely stand upright), you preferred moving in a rather large group of friends where you could easily situate yourself away from Ellie if need be. You remained at the front of the group with your friend Astrid, arms linked as you trekked towards the bright lights of Sterling’s.

You all sit at a long makeshift table formed by three smaller tables pushed together. Your anxiety ramps up when Ellie sits across and a seat to the right from you. Refraining from glancing her way would be much more difficult now that you were both in each other’s line of sight.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

Your group was embarrassingly loud, disrupting the peace of the few restaurant-goers nearby. You silently make plans to pardon yourself to the bathroom and hide out for a good 15 minutes before you make an excuse to go home to your apartment.

Some of them are sober enough. As long as I check up to make sure they all get home safe…

Deciding not to order anything to avoid waiting til the end to pay, you tell the server that you don’t need anything. But before they can walk away, Dina, who was sitting directly across from you, interjects.

“Oh, she’ll just get a hot chocolate.”

You look perplexed.

“Dina, I don’t need anything.”

“I know for a fact that your tits are freezing cold and you need to warm up. Besides, I know you love hot chocolate.”

“D!” You whisper, embarrassed at the loud comment about your tits in front of the server. Dina snickers.

You smile at Dina’s thoughtfulness, though you’re slightly annoyed that your escape plan was thwarted. In the corner of your eye, you think you see Ellie make a certain facial expression. But refusing to look her way, you can’t make a guess as to what it was.

Not wanting to hold up the server’s time by arguing with Dina, you give a quick thank you and glare at your nosy friend.

“You and Jesse are really competing to see who is my number one tormentor tonight.”

Dina rolls her eyes playfully, “Why? What did our sweet Jesse do this time?”

You have to catch yourself from blurting out Jesse’s earlier endeavour. Despite the commotion your friends were making, you’re certain that your voice is still within Ellie’s earshot.

“Uh… ask him later.” You say, making eye contact with Jesse, who sat to Dina’s right.

He smirks and you grimace.

It feels like a lifetime waiting for everyone’s order to arrive. You sat awkwardly sandwiched between your friend Astrid to your right and Frat Guy Adam to your left. You stay quiet, not engaging in much talk. Dina and Astrid would attempt to pull you into their respective conversations, but you merely give slight nods and smiles and an occasional “mhmm” before going back to scrolling on your phone.

After exhausting all forms of social media that no longer entertained you, you sigh and place your phone down on the table.

Frat Guy Adam notices your movement and glances at your lockscreen.

“Boyfriend?” He suddenly asks, nodding towards your phone.

“What?” You say, startled.

“Dude on your wallpaper. Where is he tonight?”

Your lockscreen photo was of you hugging your favourite cousin, Rafael, and it was taken after your high school graduation.

“Oh.” You gulp. “No, uh. Older cousin. No boyfriend.”

“Really?” He says suddenly interested. He turns in his seat to face you better.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“Not really the boyfriend type of girl…” You mutter.

“Why not? You’re pretty hot. Can’t be that hard to get a date.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a lesbian. Don’t need a boyfriend.” You say quietly but assertively.

Adam tsks, saying, “Man, really? Didn’t clock you as a queer.” He adjusts in his seat to his original position, chatting instead with his friend on his left.

You freeze. You knew Adam didn’t exactly intend for his words to be malicious, but you’ve heard enough comments like this in your life to understand its meaning.

No one else around you could hear his comment over the buzz of conversation. Except…

Your eyes meet Ellie’s, you having momentarily forgotten that this was what you were trying to avoid. It was strange to look into a familiar face and see an unfamiliar expression.

What was she thinking? Is that concern on her face? No, that’s something else…

You break her gaze, deciding that she’d only looked at you because you accidentally looked her way. She probably didn’t hear what had happened; and even if she did, it was none of her business.

Before you can even decide whether or not to say anything to Adam, everyone’s orders come flooding out. Your hot chocolate was placed in front of you, and ignoring Ellie’s piercing green eyes, you just stare at the steam rising from your cup.

You were growing more uncomfortable every second that passed. Being neither drunk nor high, you sit soberly in your seat and wish you hadn’t come out tonight in the first place. You suddenly feel tears welling up in your eyes, unsure if it was from your anxiety or Adam’s comments.

Muttering a brief “be right back” to nobody in particular, you quickly make your way to the two-stall women’s restroom. You nearly collapse against the bathroom door once it closed behind you. Burying your face in your hands, you try not to break down into tears of frustration.

After several moments, you pry yourself off the door and dare to look at yourself in the mirror. You look like a more tired, sweatier version of yourself from earlier in the night. Sighing, you grab a paper towel and dab it underneath your eye to remove any dripping eyeliner.

You nearly jump and poke your eye when the bathroom door suddenly opens. You feel your throat close up and your heart clench once more.

Ellie.

author’s notes:

this is the first ellie fanfic i’ve written and posted on here so be kind pretty please but feedback is very much welcome! i actually have more than one chapter written out already shdjfjf but hopefully this does well and i’ll post the rest if people would like!

i plan on making this a kind of long series, so i hope people will like that sgdjfjf (sorry, i know i should just post and not apologize and look for validation, but i haven’t written in a while!)

@lonelyfooryouonly asked me on my main to be tagged when i finally start posting my own fics on here, so here bby ty for the push! can’t wait for the next chapter of selfish to come out hehe

#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes

1K notes · View notes

rustedhearts · 8 months

Text

dazed and confused (70s!childhood best friend!steve x fem!reader)

summary: steve's been your best friend all your life. but friends aren't supposed to think about friends the way you think about steve.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the only living boy in indiana ✶ main masterlist

tags: 70s!steve, childhood bestie!steve, fluff, pining! we're pining!, tid-bit of jealousy from us, this is short but sweet. not edited as usual.

recommended listening: you're lost, little girl —the doors; sweet leaf —black sabbath

buy me a ko-fi! ♡

somewhere in indiana. october, 1977.

The slow riff of The Doors’ You’re Lost, Little Girl trickled through the cinderblock basement. The Strange Days album spun on Steve’s turntable, the right door left open to reveal his cautiously-crafted selection. An array of colors and bands, all organized into what Steve considered his “most prized possession.” A music man above all else, you sort of admired how much he cared for the craft of careful listening.

You wriggled your fingers through the gaps of one of the Harrington Afghan blankets, where an orange stripe turned to brown. Steve hummed along to the start of the lyrics—a low, rumbling sound. You peeked over the edge of the sofa, ratty and old and shoved down here when Mrs. Harrington bought something sturdier at the start of the decade. You remembered the day she instructed Steve’s father to bring the old one down here; it was the first time you wandered into a room alone with Steve. Just the two of you, other neighborhood kids neglected on the lawn down the street.

He asked if you wanted to stay over and play a game, and Mrs. Harrington brought a bowl of pretzels to share while you hunched over Monopoly. Now, the basement was your place—yours and Steve’s. Four walls of cinderblock and concrete floor, softened with a shaggy brown rug once found in the living room, and posters purchased at the record stores and concert merchandise stands, and seasonal decorations Mrs. Harrington rotated every few months.

When it didn’t smell like the linen and laundry beating against the pea green dryer, the stench of Steve’s Winston cigarettes took over. It was always cold, and always home. You often found yourself here instead of at your own.

“You’re lost, little girl,” Steve cooed lyrically, cigarette withering and smoking between his two fingers.

He was lying on the hard ground, one palm pressed over his sweater-clad stomach and the other held open against the air where his cigarette waited. The maroon red of his shirt made his hair look dark and luscious, and the paleness of his Midwestern-cold-season skin warm again. If he opened his eyes, now pinched shut to marinate in the song like he so often did, you knew they’d be soft and puppy-like. He only ever looked at you with a smile.

So how was it that you never kissed?

You found yourself asking that a lot lately. When he picked you up for class at the community college with a thermos full of hot coffee on bitter cold days. When he slung his jacket around your shoulders when you shivered at football games. When he popped a kiss against your cheek out of pure excitement and whirled away like he hadn’t just burned your skin in the most delightful way.

And that tingling delight only appeared this year. When he started to fill out his brown leather jacket until it creaked. When his voice started growling through you like a firework. When his hands grew rough from work on the Pontiac in the driveway, inherited from his father for his eighteenth birthday. He spent the summer fixing it up, and that first scorching day you came up the driveway and saw him slicked with grease…you were done for.

Now, you only ever thought about kissing Steve.

“Penny for your thoughts, little girl?” Steve mused from the floor. His eyes were open now, head tipped to catch you staring.

You jerked away, blushing into your knees. “Sorry. Just zoning out.”

You continued your poking ministrations in the blanket before tossing Steve a bewildered look. “And don’t call me that.”

Steve chuckled around his cigarette, growing smaller by the minute between his lips, puffing smoke with every sharp ejection of amused breath. His socked feet scuffed against the floor as he pressed up, sauntering toward the rear of the couch in his brown corduroy pants.

“Jeez.” He yanked the cigarette from his mouth and slung one leg over the back of the couch beside you. “Who pissed in your Cheerios today?”

You shifted away from him when he settled on the top edge of the couch, huffing as you went. Crowded against the padded and pillowed arm, you frowned into your fist propped under your chin and glared at the poster of Led Zeppelin ahead of you.

You hated your own body for betraying you this way—for making you ache for your best friend. It was wrong. Everyone knew that dating a friend never ended well. You knew too much about each other, had seen too much of the bad for the food to feel unadulterated and sweet the way it did with someone you’d known for far less. But you’d known Steve nearly all your life. Introduced as two curious and adventurous six year olds, you saw each other through elementary, middle, high school, and now college. You’d comforted all the bad dates and heard the rundown of every parental fight. You knew about the rash he had from a new laundry detergent last winter, and you knew he liked to jerk off with his left hand even though he was a righty because it “feels like it’s not even his.”

You knew too much.

So why did he look so handsome sitting next to you like that?

“Hey.” Steve’s voice was soft now, murmured just under the stereo. “Are you—you’re not mad at me or something, are you?”

"No," you murmured, eyes turned down toward your lap.

Steve watched you a moment, elbows on his knees, waiting for more to utter from your mouth. It was so unlike you to grow quiet in his presence. Your mouth was always running, spilling some secret you promised to keep with "the exception of Steve," or retelling some story with adamant vibrancy. If you were ever quiet, it was only so you could bathe in the peacefulness of your alone time together.

You had never been quiet like this. Well...not since that time in high school when your boyfriend dumped you.

"Well, hey, did I show you the Masters of Reality I found at the record store? It's sick, I've never seen this version of the cover before."

Steve hopped off the couch, stubbing his cigarette out in an old mug on the end of the coffee table as he went. He disappeared up the stairs with a rushed be right back, and you listened to his footsteps thump above your head. When he was gone, you dropped your head into your hands and sighed.

✶ ✶

You parted ways for the day a few hours later, the span of uncomfortable time in which you sat shoulder-to-shoulder silently watching The Price Is Right. You couldn't think of a thing to say to him, and he didn't know how to take your quiet.

On the trudge home, you scolded yourself for having such romantic thoughts about him. For wondering what his lips would feel like on your own, and how his hands might feel beneath your clothes. It was wrong. And you were certain that if Steve knew how you were thinking these days, he'd be appalled. You'd lose your best friend forever.

There's no coming back from unrequited love.

You spent the night tossing and turning and glaring at your Donna Summer poster in the dark, wondering why your brain wouldn't just shut up about Steve. Steve's hair and Steve's eyes and Steve's ass in those Levis. You slumped from bed the next morning (thankfully a Sunday) with scratchy eyes and a head full of Steve.

So pardon your irritation when you dressed and dolled yourself pretty for the few short paces down the street to his house, only to find the rear of a long head of auburn hair looking up at Steve. You skirted to a stop at the end of the driveway, nose already turning cold from the nip of autumn air, new brown boots scuffing on the pavement. The gurgle of Steve's radio could be heard even from there, winding up an eight track. The Pontiac windows were rolled down to stream out the sounds.

And there Steve was, propped against the hood, grease-stained rag thrown over his puffy-sweatered shoulder, gazing down at this short little thing like some new kitten. He had his arms crossed the way he does when he wants to be handsome—and Christ did it work. But they were on her.

Over her shoulder, Steve caught the edge of your coat. He swiftly shifted gears, pushing off the car to wave a hand at you. You watched his mouth move in a murmur toward the girl, who rubbed her hand along his arm as she sidestepped toward a goodbye. You still lingered, hands tucked and balled tight in your fuzzy pockets, waiting for some sort of instruction.

Steve always had girls around, but suddenly, while watching this tiny little inkling of a girl sashay her way away from your best friend, you felt like screaming. You wanted the girls to stop coming around.

"Hey, c'mere," Steve called through the distance, and with a start, you realized the girl was fading down the street, and you were just standing there.

You shuffled your way over, inhaling deeply as you went. As the gap diminished and you approached, you caught a whiff of sharp autumn leaves, and the smoke of a Winston recently put out. Somewhere underneath, the amber musk of his cologne. You'd drool if you bothered to open your mouth.

"Hey." Steve grinned, hands rubbing around the greased cloth. His familiar, heather grey sweatshirt looked soft, hood a bit rumpled at the nape of his neck.

Once, you fell asleep on a three hour road trip, and woke up on the edge of Ohio with your head in his lap. He was playing with your hair, and when you blinked up fuzzily and furrowed your brows, he soothed you awake like some sort of child. You could still feel the warmth of that sweatshirt.

"Hey," you returned, a little too sharp. "Who was that?"

Steve's sneakers whooshed over the pavement, kicking up gravel and crunching fallen leaves as he headed toward the tool box. He was polishing up, checking fluids and odds and ends. Sometimes, you thought he just liked standing next to his hot ride.

Steve glanced toward the end of the drive where the mystery girl disappeared to a few moments ago. "Who?"

You rolled your eyes, huffing. "The girl, Hair."

Steve scoffed at your ill-intended nickname, heading toward the driver side door. He hung halfway in, reaching for the knob on the stereo.

"Somebody, nobody. I don't know yet."

You kicked at a rock near your foot, frowning. "What does that even mean?"

Steve continued to fiddle inside the car. "It means, she could be somebody. I'm seeing where it goes, takin' my time."

You pushed your head back toward the sky, head shaking. Steve took the moment to look at you through the windshield, memorizing the colors and shapes of your outfit. Camel brown coat, chocolate brown boots, black turtleneck, purple corduroy jeans. You had lipgloss on today, and the color made your eyes beam.

Steve pulled out of the car and headed back toward the tools before he could look any more. You tipped your head back into place just as he slid under the car, the soles of his sneakers bared to you. His socks didn't match. Something about that made you smile.

"Why are you so cranky anyway?" he called from under the hunk of blue metal. "Yesterday, today—you havin' your monthly—"

Kicking his foot hard with the toe of your boot, you glared down at the portioned part of Steve Harrington you could see. "Don't finish that sentence, Harrington."

Steve jolted. "Ow! Alright, alright, Jes-us."

You pulled away, pacing the patch of grey ground in front of the car. You tight-roped the crack for a while, watching your feet overtake the severed cement, glancing occasionally toward Steve when things clattered.

"How'd you meet her?" you found yourself calling out.

Steve paused a moment. You continued to pace. He sniffled and rolled up his sleeves, shifting under the car. "Uh...record store. She asked my opinion."

Oh, you inwardly groaned. She was a cool girl. Trying to swallow down your frustrations, you sniffled away a cold drip snot and hummed.

"What's she listen to, ABBA?"

Steve shook his head, chuckling. "Yeah, actually. But I can't be a music snob, honey, that's not how I roll. Chicks can play whatever they want when we're doin' it, I don't mind."

Scowling, you thought about going over and kicking him again for good measure. But the poor kid just didn't have a clue, did he? He was handsome, lived in a two-parent home, his father still had a job, and he had a job waiting for him when he was done fooling around. It wasn't his fault he had everything.

You just wanted him to have you, too.

"Hey, grab my smokes for me? On the front seat."

Tapping your foot, arms firmly crossed over your chest, you spent a moment boring a hole into Steve's foot. Another kick? No. Your mind wandered to that Tuesday evening, straight after school your senior year, when Nancy Wheeler dumped Steve behind the gym during fifth period, and Steve came running home and did everything he could to stop crying—but you held him in your arms and told him he could cry all he wanted.

Steve didn't think "chicks" could "play whatever they wanted when they were doin' it." Steve didn't think women were playthings. Steve wanted to be loved.

You could love him well.

Huffing, you stomped toward the car, coat sleeves swinging with every bound. You snatched the crumpled back of half-empty Winstons from the leather of the front seat and rounded the square-nosed hood of the Pontiac. When you came into view, Steve slid out from under the car and sat up.

"Thanks—whoa!"

But you threw the pack at his head, heard the small clatter of cardboard against skin as it pinged off his brow and into his lap. His brows creased as you spun sharply on your heel and crossed your arms again, heading for the end of the drive. Steve scrambled to catch up, tripping over his feet as he went.

"Wait, wait—stop!" Steve rushed you, snatching you by the elbow to pull you to a sharp stop.

When you turned—or he made you, rather—you looked anywhere but his pretty face. Glaring at the collar of his sweatshirt, doing all you could to hold your breath and bring down the simmer in your cheeks. Suddenly, you couldn't speak. Suddenly, all those feelings were coming to a boil, flowing over and spilling out.

But you couldn't put into words just what you were feeling. You couldn't find it in you to open your mouth and speak.

"What's goin' on?" Steve chuckled, but his tone lacked the humor. "What did I do, what's wrong?"

Balling your fingers into fists again, frozen numb and trembling with a hungry ache, you tossed your eyes his way. Steve could see the anguish on your face, pinched in the center sourly. But what was wrong? Steve couldn't put his finger on it.

Stomping your booted foot, you gave a soft, petulant whine into the brisk air. And before Steve could laugh or shake his head at your childish antics, ones he's seen plenty of before when you haven't gotten your way—you smashed your mouth on his.

Leaning up on your boots, creasing the leather toes, creaking with your weight; planting your hands on his firm, bulging arms growing bigger by the day; squeezing muscle mass with an eager grasp. You pressed your mouth right to his and breathed him in. The stereo in the Pontiac gave a whir and a click, and then the hoarse cough of Ozzie Osbourne cut through the quiet of the street. Sweet Leaf slipped from the car and fueled Steve with a fire like no other.

So, when you pulled back with a sharp smack of spit and swollen cheeks, Steve didn't let you get far. A step back and to the side, a slow and incomplete rotation toward the front of the house—until Steve snatched you by the belt loop just above your ass and tugged you back.

"Hey."

You crumpled into him, arms caged against his chest—and yes, the sweater was just as soft as you remembered. His hands slid through the groove of your waist and down the round globes of your ass, squeezing with firm pressure and eager palms. Big biceps pressing you into him by the shoulders: pulling you in, holding you close. He tasted like Coca Cola, glass bottle now rolling into the grass, blown away by the wind.

If he asked, you were searching for more of in his mouth, parched from the cold.

Against your mouth, you felt the lines of Steve's lips widen. When he pulled away, it was just far enough to still feel his breath against your chin, close enough to see the flecks of jade in his eyes.

And he was grinning a half-cocked, handsome grin.

"About damn time."

509 notes · View notes

leonw4nter · 3 months

Note

hii could you do some re2r leon hcs abt him dating a figure skater? love your fics smm <33

RE2R!Leon Headcanons on dating a figure skater!

RE2R!Leon x GN!FigureSkater!Reader (Also my first request ever!! Thanks anon <33)

RE2R!Leon who would drive you to and from practice everyday if he was free. He also offered to massage your sore arms and legs at the end of a strenuous practice, making sure you also ate well in order to restore your energy.

RE2R!Leon who is the resident figure skating expert in the Raccoon City precinct, knowledgeable on the jumps, scoring systems, the best brands of figure skating outfits to buy from, etc. He knows all these because you explain the mechanics of your sport to him any chance you get– laying in bed at night, mid-chew of your food, when he’s driving and you suddenly remembered that you haven’t said anything in a long time today.

RE2R!Leon who would make sure to attend all of your performances, near or far. He’s willing to call in sick just to watch your performance, if the station isn’t super busy. If the station really needs him, he’ll try to catch your performance on the box TV in the break room.

RE2R!Leon who saved up before spending the first six months of his salary to get you new skates since your old ones were barely hanging on for dear life yet you insisted they still worked just fine. The skating apparel store personnel also gave him care instructions, him taking out a notepad and jotting down care instructions. Like the thoughtful boyfriend he is, he also picked up some grease for the blades and leather conditioner.

RE2R!Leon who would be the loudest person in the whole arena, the staffers and the people reminding him many times to keep the hollering down and he apologizes, even if he’s bound to do it again.

RE2R!Leon who always comes running to you with flowers in one hand, arms wide open to engulf you in a warm hug. He’s practically sobbing because he’s so damn proud of you, his camcorder full of shaky footage of you skating and him yelling. He’s got another camera in the pocket of his jacket, this time full of photos of you (some of the pictures blurry).

RE2R!Leon who nearly masters the art of styling your hair; name it and he’ll do it near perfectly (there’s always room for improvement and new ways to style your hair). Same goes for your makeup; he used to confuse concealer and foundation and now he knows which is which. He remembers the amount you use on your face and what brushes or sponges are used for each product. Sometimes, he even offers to get your brushes and sponges cleaned.

RE2R!Leon who flails his arms and tries not to fall on his ass on the cold ice when you took him out for an ice skating date. You suggested that he use the walkers that the establishment offered for newbies but he turned it down, saying he can just hold on to the side or hold on to you. After you taught, explained, and demonstrated all the moves you do for skating, he’s highly impressed and in awe especially now that he’s seeing the mechanisms up close.

RE2R!Leon who brags about his award-winning partner to the other officers in the station, showing the multitude of pictures he has of your awards. He might even show videos of your routines too, the officers complaining of slight motion sickness or not understanding anything because the footage is so shaky.

RE2R!Leon who will absolutely scream “that’s my girl/boyfriend right there!” or “see that person over there? The one in maroon! I’m their boyfriend!” to no one in particular while the people around him could care less.

RE2R!Leon who hypes you up before it’s time for him to go to the stands and for you to go in the holding area for the contestants, giving you kisses and playing upbeat music on the drive to the venue. He’s giving you so much hugs and words of encouragement, you feel your confidence spike.

RE2R!Leon who ran from the stands and tackled you, crying, when you were hailed as one of the winners. You were both in tears, laughing and smiling broadly but you swear that he cried harder than you did.

RE2R!Leon who will still come running to you with arms wide open to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug, flowers in one hand even if you didn’t place on the podium. At the end of the day, you did your best and he’s the proudest boyfriend ever. In his eyes, you’re the best skater there is and will still celebrate you no matter what.

RE2R!Leon who will listen to the song you finally found for your routine, his lovely partner seeking double approval for their music choice. That song would end up stuck in his mind for a week, even if it’s not his usual taste. While sitting in his patrol car or filing reports back, he’d randomly start humming “Hopelessly Devoted to You” or “Take My Breath Away” and giggle to himself because he remembers seeing you glide on the ice so gracefully.

RE2R!Leon who doesn’t mind being the guy that people ask to hold their cameras so they can take a picture with you. He’s just some dude and you’re there, the topic of a nine year-old’s female sports icon essay for a subject at school.

RE2R!Leon who felt guilty when you had to pull out of a competition that takes place a state away from where Raccoon City is, flight tickets and hotel accommodation fees above what you two normally earn. He didn’t like seeing you dejected, a little farther from reaching the Olympic dream you want to achieve and sulking in your room. He promised to work harder and saved more money so he’d be able to support you financially in your dreams.

RE2R!Leon who will blast a Spice Girls or Madonna song and dance to it, making himself look stupid in front of you just to make you smile for even a little bit. Would do anything to help you get over a bad day. He’d suggest you doing his makeup to test out how a makeup look you’ve been eyeing might look; the powder is making his nose slightly itchy but he tries not to flinch so he won’t smudge the eyeliner you’re doing on him while you’re sitting on his lap, his hands resting on your waist or the small of your back.

RE2R!Leon who is your number one fan! Aside from whatever encouragement he’s showering you when you’re competing, he’s truly doing everything and more just so he can help you reach your dreams. On days that are either boring, best, or the worst, he will be there for you no matter what. He truly believes that you’re perfectly capable of being on your own but he’s thankful that you’re letting him into your life. He’s not the richest man in the world nor does he have a fat bank account but he’s doing everything in order to be able to provide for you, a small smidge of what he is willing to do for you.

NOTE - I finally finished 1/3 requests in my inbox, YEAHHH!!! I started on this one yesterday before I fell asleep, finished the rest of it while at school, and finished making the post just now :)) I've been gone for a while bc school and I'll probably be gone again for quite some time bc work is starting to pour in some more. I got a perfect score on a math drill today so I'm pretty happy about that, my (richer) classmates also organized a prom kinda thing bc we didn't get to have prom so I'm excited about that one :)) Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this headcanon and again, big BIG thank you to anon for sending this request in!!!! I hope I managed to live up to your expectations :))) I <33333 UUUUU!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are colored by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy fluff #biohazard #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil headcanons #leon kennedy headcanons

183 notes · View notes

mi-ni-me · 3 months

Text

Here are my first batch of sketches! I apologize if the text is very light or sloppy looking, when I’m drawing I’m not thinking of anyone reading but me lol! Below are text and translations as well as context.

1 + 2.) Simply wanted to draw bara Paps in my style but with daisy dukes, no I’m not going to apologize. (1.) Bara Papyrus aka BEEFCAKE)(2. Hood instead of scarf)(3. Daisy dukes)

3.) Small doodle* Money being a little shit n getting caught stealing Mutts (sf!red paps) cash, I hc Money being very skilled at pickpocketing and being able to get into almost anyone’s pockets without noticing, until recent moments..

4.) Small doodle*anotha one. No im just playin lol but just two swapfell Sans’ minding their business not much to say on this page considering it’s so empty! I do wanna say I used a ref for Maroons jacket cause I couldn’t for the life of me remember how exactly leather looked on paper, references are truly a blessing.

5+6.) Finally! A warm up doodle of Sans that turned into a skelesona spread🌚. In truth I always told myself I would never make one of these because of cringe, but let’s be honest this is a self insert tumblr how much lower can I get😂. All jokes aside I made this in inspiration to @absurdmageart ‘s fic Making a Monster bc that fic is SO GOOD!!!! Probably some of my favorite interpretations of some of the skeletons! Especially the swapfells, I feel like they never get enough love 💔. Anyways,, I decided to keep her with a human soul even though she’s technically a skelesona, I kinda wanted to pay homage to the fic (even though I can’t really remember if Lisa had a human soul or not it’s besides the point). She was obviously very shook when the transformation first took hold, but after a few days you can see she’s adjusting fine(especially when she finds out limbs are detachable and pain free~)(1.First day, Skelesona lmao, “oh god”, “Y’all look what I can do lol”, “Y-you guys?!”) (a lot of the stuff on this spread is just rambles and such so most can go ignored)

#undertale #my art #sans #swapfell sans #traditional #undertale au #swapfell sans my beloved 😩💜💜💜💜#swapfell red papyrus #swapfell red sans #swapfell #swapfell papyrus #purple swapfell #undertale papyrus #ut papyrus #bara papyrus #skelesona #fanart for fanfic #absurdmage

171 notes · View notes

roseboysstuff · 3 months

Note

Okay but- daddy Lotor making his son wearing a collar that says “Daddy’s boy” all the time and having a matching leash for it that he attaches and tugs on while he breeds his adorable slutty son, the Collar letting everyone know who his son belonged to- THAT SHIT JUST- you can ignore this if you want- I just think this idea is hot-

Holy shit that is hot i have to write it but for some reason this one came out as headcanons coz my fibro is flaring up and I am tired

You protested the collar at first

But he made you wear it

"Don't make daddy angry. Put it on."

The collar was comfortable, made of leather and lined with something soft

The baby blue lettering, "Daddy's boy", made you embarrassed.

Did he really expect you to wear this?

"Never take that off. Shows who you belong too."

You try to wear turtlenecks, and jackets, to hide the collar, but most people on his spaceship see it eventually.

And when he gets rid of all your clothes that could hide it? Well, that makes sure everyone sees it

The stares made you embarrassed, but they just made him hard

The whole spaceship knew that his son belonged to him, and if any of them questioned it, they would be left marooned on a planet to die.

He attaches the leash a lot, having you knelt down next to his chair, one hand holding the leash, the other caressing your hair.

Or sometimes he'll yank the leash, pulling you closer onto his lap

All so he can kiss you breathless, and fondle every part of your body.

You eventually start smiling whenever he does, loving the possessiveness of the gesture.

And the things he would whisper in your ear as he held you on his lap.

Ranging from sweet nothings like "So pretty, my pretty son, my baby boy", to dirty talk, meant to get you all wet and needy "Gonna breed you tonight, so be a good boy, or I'll do it in front of all my crew."

Of course you stay still, being as good as you can be.

And when he finally gets you back to his chambers, he's throwing you on the bed, and then using your leash to pull you close to him as he climbs on top of you

"Gonna breed your slutty pussy tonight, get my baby boy full of daddy's cum"

And he does. Your pussy is pounded, in every position he can think of.

I headcanon that the galra don't have a refractory period, so good luck because you won't get a break from being stuffed with cum

Takes about 6 loads for him to stop, and even then he's making you cum, fingering you, trying to keep his cum in you.

#ftm reader #male reader #x reader #lotor x ftm reader #lotor x male reader #yandere lotor #lotor smut #lotor x reader #cw inc*st

186 notes · View notes

superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

'Rari Go Fast, I Know You Like It

rich!steve harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve takes you for a ride after closing a big deal at dinner. | masterlist | Title/fic inspiration song always at the bottom (please for the love of God listen to this song it's so hot) - steve's music | 18+ Only, NSFW

WC 3.2k

Warnings: SMUT (a little flirting/teasing at a handjob/fingering - both under the table in a very public setting / roadhead while Steve is driving - reader performing, steve receiving / car sex - parked with no one around / PIV intercourse - creampie ) | dirty talk

A/N: sorry this is late and if there's any formatting issues! I'm in the car! 💛

So, it was a little fun playing pretend.

The chill of pearls against your heated skin, resting in the dip of your collarbones and worth an amount that isn’t even fathomable to you. A Chanel bag with Steve’s credit card hot from use nestled inside and a bottle of perfume in your backseat as the tires come to a halt in front of the valet. Expensive lace with straps and buckles - shiny, pretty things to tease your boyfriend with. Not to mention the color, cherry red, sour and sweet. Devilish beneath a respectable and pristine navy cocktail dress that hugs you in all the right ways.

Heels clicking against the pavement, as you’re helped out of your car by not a man in a maroon jacket, but Steve. Dress slacks that fit him perfectly, a blazer and button down shirt that’s all worth more than your car. His shirt unbuttoned to show a tasteful amount of chest hair that has your mouth watering. Shiny shoes and a leather belt, a watch on his left wrist that stops halfway up to his hair, seeming to remember not to mess it up at the last minute. The one remaining piece of your Steve - hair still too long, but the carmel locks styled and gelled to look a little more purposeful than his normal mess. His hand rests on your lower back as he kisses your cheek and whispers, “Thanks for this, angel.”

Your perfectly manicured fingers slip into his, squeezing your thighs together as the cool metal band of his class ring stings your skin. Sue you, so you're a little aroused by your boyfriend dressed up for the part too. His thick fingers take over yours as he tugs you toward the hotel entrance. Murmuring in his ear as you slip through the held open door and into your role, “Anything for you, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s lips twitch, moss and cinnamon glinting in his eyes as they dance over your face. Testing the line, his gaze dips for only a second to the neckline of your dress, curving over your breasts in a simple sweetheart neckline and he blows a breath out through his nose. Glancing over his shoulder before his hand lands on the line of almost distasteful. His pinky and ring fingers gently rubbing back and forth, falling deeper towards the curve of your ass as he scolds, “Behave, baby.”

“Steven!” A voice calls, interrupting you both with a tone that’s deep and booming.

Steve’s fingers scratch at your back, shoulders rolling as he straightens and mumbles, “Showtime.” Both of you turning with wide smiles, Steve extends his hand, “Jack! Bruce!”

It’s all firm handshakes and introductions of wives and slapping shoulders and you hate that it’s doing something to you. The wives complimenting your outfit, your makeup, the sharing of town gossip that they include you in - asking you questions and your opinions on latest trends. It makes a bittersweet taste linger on your tongue when you get a little trill of excitement running through you from it all.

Sitting next to Steve, legs tucked under the pristine white tablecloth. Table settings with more forks than you knew what to do with. His fingers buzz over the skin on the inside of your thigh as the waiter holds a bottle of red out for your approval. Steve's fingers squeezing and staying put when you nod and Bruce nods his approval. "Your wife has good taste, Steven!"

"Oh, I'm not…" you begin and he waves you off.

Bruce winks at Steve, "Harrington's just taking his time picking out the perfect ring, right?"

Steve smiles into his wine glass, nodding. Another squeeze of his hand as he roams a little higher. Your thighs close around his fingers and his smile grows a little around the sip.

Steve's hand doesn't leave its new home while the business discussion begins. Steve talks animatedly, hitting all of his points with a passion and confidence you've never seen in him. The men twice his age listening intently and you're incredibly aroused watching it all unfold before you.

It's a part, you know it is.

But is it? Steve eyes you cooly as your thighs press together in search for friction when he finishes the deal. Hands shook and promises of things signed come Monday morning. His thumb brushes your skin higher, his shoulders rolling back as he hits lace. Laura, Bruce's wife, asks you questions and you keep your attention on her, your hand trailing up Steve's thigh. You nod and reply, "Oh yes I'd love some cream-" palming Steve's quickly hardening cock as he chokes on his drink as you finish your sentence, "For my coffee."

Steve removes his hand from your thighs and pulls your hand up from his lap, kissing your palm and mischief glinting in his eyes as he rests your enclosed hands on the table. Laura talks your ear off about future get togethers, help with office parties and bridge clubs. Steve's thumb brushes your knuckles as you offer to send her your lemon bar recipe, lifting your fingers for another kiss when you turn bashful at her compliment of your new pearl necklace. The boys talk shop, plans for golf on Sunday and promises of scotch and whiskey tomorrow evening.

When you walk out hand and hand with Steve next to Bruce and Laura, you're beginning to forget your initial resistance to the evening. Why didn't you think you'd have fun? Were you playing a part?

Laura gives you a hug and Steve whistles as Bruce motions to the Ferrari parked in his VIP spot. Bruce looks between the pair of you and the car before a wolfish grin spreads across his face.

“Take her for a spin, son.” Bruce winks, dropping the key into Steve’s palm.

“Sir, I-” Steve’s argument is waved away and Bruce puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder, patting it roughly.

“Just a little taste - enjoy it! You're one of us now, need another Ferrari man. Jack and his Porsche.” Rolling his eyes as he starts to walk back into the hotel, arm wrapping around his wife who smiles widely at you. He calls over his shoulder, “Bring it back for breakfast! We’ll play tennis after, right honey?”

Laura beams up at her husband, squeezing the arm that sits around his waist. He nods to the pair of you, Laura waggles her fingers and they disappear inside again.

Steve lets out a surprised laugh, fingers covering his mouth as his eyes widen in their gaze at you. He’s whispering behind his hand, “Crazy, this is crazy…this is…”

Your eyes bounce between the car and Steve’s hand holding the key. A familiar ache in your stomach blooming from the thoughts swirling in your head and you step closer. You've been wanting him alone since you stepped out of your car and this was your opportunity to finally seduce Steve for a change.

Your lips ghost over his cheekbone, whispering in his ear and relishing in the shiver that runs through his body when the words leave your mouth, “Take me for a ride, Stevie?”

Steve's tongue juts out over his lip, pupils taking over any color in his eyes as he nods and practically races to open the door for you, "Yeah, yeah okay."

Steve closes your door after you slip in, running around the hood and pausing abruptly in front of the car. He licks his lips again, his chest heaving and he finally breaks - the hand that’s been aching to run through his hair finally doing so.

"Baby," he closes his eyes, blowing out a breath before opening them again. A mixture of a laugh and groan tinging his words, "Shit, I wish I had a camera. You look so sexy in this car."

Your body heats at his words, ducking your head down as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Stifling your giggle, you nod your head backwards, motioning him with your fingers, "Come on, loverboy."

Steve's grin could melt the ice in the furthest reaches of the globe. He hops in the driver's seat excitedly, hands rubbing the black leather of the steering wheel with eager eyes. He adjusts the rearview mirror. And then, he puts his hand behind your head on the seat, turning to glance over his shoulder as he backs out of the luxury parking space.

Fuck, this is not gonna last long.

Steve looks like he's made for this car, sitting back comfortably in the tan leather seat. The radio playing Queen and his lips quirk up on one side, nudging the dial louder. Flashes of the city lights hit the pair of you as you drive further out of Indianapolis. Oranges and gold illuminating his face as the wind whips your hair. City noises of horns, people yelling, and the clanking of alleyways being used by closing restaurants fading away quickly into crickets, to a peace that’s not quite silent but almost. Watching him closely as the speedometer slowly climbs, Steve’s face is illuminated by the soft glow of the dash. His eyebrows raise as the meter hits 80, the car making not a single noise of protest like yours would as he shifts gears smoothly.

That’s when his lips twist into a smirk, his thigh flexes as he pushes the pedal harder, eyes dancing between the meter and the road. You can’t take it anymore, pressing the lock of your buckle and Steve’s eyes jump over to you at the noise.

“Baby, what are you-”

You’re leaning carefully over the console, fingers gripping his seat as you kiss just behind his ear, nose trailing down his neck as he moans, sentence breaking off. Your fingers trail up the inside of his pant leg, lips smiling against his skin as you feel him already hard.

“I-I can pull over and-”

You speak into his cheek, fingers on his belt now, “Keep driving.”

“Oh fucking hell.” He blows out his breath, a whine bubbling out of him as you drag the zipper down slowly.

Your thighs are coated, slick and sticky since he closed the deal earlier. Steve lifts his hips as you maneuver his length free of his boxers and slacks. His foot presses to the pedal harder, bucking his hips into your hand at the feeling of your touch.

Not giving him a single ounce of time to prepare further, your mouth slips over the swollen tip that's already leaking for you. One of his hands finds your hair, thigh under your palm flexing as he no doubt presses the pedal even harder as you dip lower.

It’s messy, not as precise as you’d like to be, tongue swirling and spit pooling. Steve’s fingers grip your hair a little meanly, a little too rough and when he yanks your roots when he hits the back of your throat you moan around your sucking.

“Fuck, shit baby, you’re,” he gulps for air, trying to find his words and keep his eyes on the road. Voice shaking, filled with shock and confidence in the same breaths, “You like sucking the bosses cock, huh?” Moaning in agreement that's loud enough for the radio to be drowned out as you nod around your bobbing.

Your new lingerie is ruined, you’re dizzy with Steve’s attitude, with the dinner, with the deals, with the fucking car. Tongue swirling around his tip, flicking the slit and collecting more precum and Steve jerks his hips up again. Your fingers grip his thighs, console digging into your knees and you can’t take it anymore, one hand reaching down and rubbing furiously at your swollen clit.

Steve practically sobs as his eyes dart over to your hips rolling against your hand. Choking on his words, “Oh my god, are you - christ babe,” as your nose hits the patch of dark hair at his base when you take him even deeper.

Pulling up his length slowly , lips swollen and wet as they drag against him. Your tongue traces the vein that runs along his shaft, your eyes glance up at him under fluttering lashes. Steve’s eyes are closed and your mouth leaves him with a sudden and lewd pop. Your head whips up to see you’re now going well over 100, moving into the gravel that starts the ditch on the side of the road.

“Steve!”

“Wha-Shit! Fuck!” His eyes open, glossy and dazed and he straightens, blinking rapidly. His hands find the wheel, responsibly at ten and two, correcting the car’s trail into the lane again.

Steve’s cheeks are red, chest heaving as his eyes dart left to right too quickly. He turns the wheel suddenly, the car spinning into a small clearing. Surrounded by trees and hidden from the road, he slams it into park and turns the lights off.

“I need you right now,” he grabs at your jaw greedily, hair and eyes crazy and you pull away from his grip. Relishing in the glint that flashes in his gaze at your defiance, at the groan that rumbles in his chest and you have to bite back your grin.

“Have a little patience Steve, I got all dressed up for you and you don’t even care? Maybe I had a really nice night for us planned back at the hotel…” you sigh, hand reaching up to unclip your hair.

Steve licks his lips, as your hands shake out your curls. He moans when you lean forward, lips kissing up his dick and hovering over the tip.

“Please, baby, I-”

Smiling against him, tongue flicking out and teasing him. Trying to contain your amusement in the whimper he makes at the motion as you kick off your heels and climb over the console. Your dress rucked up around your hips and Steve’s eyes drink you in, large hands roaming up your thighs.

Your own fingers pull at the hem of your dress, removing it over your head and your smile finally wins as Steve falls back against the seat heavily with a loud moan. His eyes are darker than the night sky above you as he tugs on your lace covered hips. Breath hot against your skin as he yanks you closer to him, kissing over the swell of your breasts and up your neck.

“You planned this?” He licks at your neck, your jaw, up to your ear. Sucking bruises and soothing them with his tongue too quickly for your liking. This is all going to be over too fast.

Your body arches against his, neck extending for him as you gasp, “Well, not the car exactly, but-”

Breaking off into a moan as he kisses down the column of your throat, a thick finger pushing the lace of the lingerie set to the side. Steve’s able to slide through you easily and now it’s his turn to smile against your skin.

He’s not the one who’s needy, you are.

“Honey, you’re fucking soaked.” A second digit spreads your folds, teasing and circling your clit and you have to bite down on your lip hard to suppress the pathetic sound that’s trying to escape you.

The pads of his fingers stop at your entrance and he smirks into your jaw, nose nudging your cheek as he speaks. Voice raspy and tinged with a desperation you’ve never heard before, “Got all worked up watching me make money, yeah? Wanna be a little spoiled, huh baby?”

When Steve pushes his fingers into you with no resistance, you know there’s no use in fighting it and you nod, your own fingers gripping at his shoulders. Your breath is coming too quickly, the heat pooling in your stomach coming too rapidly and you gasp out his name.

He smiles, lips hovering over yours as your hips roll against his hand. Steve watches you, almost casually, leaning back, thighs spreading wider. You wouldn’t be surprised if he put his other hand behind his head like he was relaxing by the pool. His fingers curl and find the spot you were aching for him to touch for hours, he doesn’t even blink as you clench around him. Steve’s tongue presses into his cheek, fighting a wider smile as he nods, “Yeah that’s it pretty girl, just take whatever you want. So spoiled,” his other hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer and his lips press to yours roughly, “So fucking spoiled.”

Pushing on his chest, you whine, “Steve, I need-”

His fingers slip from you and wrap around his length, coating himself in your slick before he’s yanking you lower on his lap.

“Yeah? Then take it.”

Pathetic, you’re pathetic, and you don’t understand how the roles reversed so quickly. How did a night of pretending, a plan to seduce Steve turn into you begging for him in a fucking Ferrari?

There’s no sting as you take him, it’s too wet, too ready for him, and your head is thrown back with a gasp of pleasure. Your eyes blink as he sucks on the top of one of your breasts, hands on your hips as he moves you up and down on him sharply. Tears for Fears plays and stars glimmer above you and you’re already about to cum. How was he always able to seduce you into these sinfully delicious scenarios even when you had a plan to do it to him?

Angry you didn’t win, again, you push his face into your chest harder, fingers tugging in the back of his hair. Steve’s breath hitches as you roll your hips, grinding down on him. He can feel you clenching around him, you can feel every ridge and curve. Steve kisses up your neck, begging your name as you bob on him faster, hands squeezing your hips. He’s gone.

You’re both playing dirty now. A filthy grind of your hips against his, hands yanking in hair, mouths breathing into each other’s and Steve leans the seat back suddenly. Gasping as you fly backwards, your weight falling against him fully, he groans. The new angle has your clit rubbing against him just right and you’re panting into his mouth.

The pressure builds in your gut almost in time with the music playing, swelling and crescendoing to a level you've never reached so quickly. You’re trying to win stil,l but it’s all over when Steve begs one simple word into your parted lips.

“Come.”

Your body spasms, it’s a demand and a plea and he nods as you whine and your bouncing picks up it’s pace as your orgasm rips through you. Steve is quick to follow you, painting your walls as he holds you down, hands pressing into your back as his hips buck up into you harshly before faltering.

A whole song seems to play before the other sounds of the world return to yours and Steve’s ears. Cars driving by not too far away, owls and various woodland creature’s calls when you make eye contact. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, neck bruised by you even though you don’t remember doing it and his hair is messier than it’s ever been. You’re sure you look even worse and suddenly the two of you are laughing.

You hide in his chest and he curls his arms around you. He lips brush along your temple and he squeezes you lightly. His laugh rumbles in his chest against yours as he whispers a little too cockily, “Told you you’d have fun tonight.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

#steve harrington #rich!steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things fanfic #Spotify

712 notes · View notes

yuujispinkhair · 5 months

Text

Sin for Me

You know that dating Yakuza King Sukuna means he is often busy with work until late at night. But that doesn't mean you can't drive to his fancy downtown office and take his mind off work, at least for a little while. -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @skunaskitten requested "Sin for Me" by TWNTYFOUR & 7INK. Omg babe, thank you so much for requesting Yakuza!Sukuna!! I miss him so much, and this song is so sexy and fits him so well!!

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, sex in Sukuna's office, dirty talk, creampie, daddy-kink. This story is set in my Yakuza!Sukuna Universe, but you don't need to read that to understand what is going on. Sukuna is the Oyabun of one of Tokyo's most powerful Yakuza clans, and reader is in an established relationship with him. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Your heart flutters as you stride down the large hallway of the fancy downtown office. It's long after sunset, the city is wrapped in night, a million little glittering lights lighting it up. And you feel on fire as you approach the heavy wooden double door at the end of the hallway.

The door to the office of the King of Tokyo's underworld. Sukuna's door.

Your man, your lover, your whole world since you met him.

Sukuna is a busy man, always giving his all and always so passionate about everything he does. So intense. He is still in his fancy office at eleven p.m., going through his documents, maybe preparing a new contract, or maybe signing someone's death sentence disguised as a business e-mail.

And you were feeling rather lonely in his penthouse, all alone, sitting on the luxurious leather couch, watching TV, and waiting for Sukuna to come home.

You know he doesn't do it to anger you. He would never do that. But he tends to forget about the time when he is busy with work. And a man like Sukuna has a lot of business to deal with. He is the King, after all.

You can't deny that it's incredibly sexy how dedicated he is to his work. Passionate and ambitious. Just like he is in bed.

But enough is enough. You are here now to take Sukuna's mind off work.

You feel exhilarated, a mix of adrenaline and lust pumping through your veins as you push open the double door to Sukuna's office. You can feel the sinful caress of the red lace lingerie you are wearing beneath the luxurious black coat.

Everything you wear was bought by Sukuna in the fancy designer boutiques of the city. The city that belongs to him.

You are already ruining those expensive panties, already so wet just at the thought of the Yakuza King's maroon gaze traveling over your body.

He is sitting at his mahogany desk, a glass of vodka in front of him, his suit jacket abandoned, his black tie loosened, the upper buttons of his red dress shirt open, revealing some of his buff chest and the sexy tattoos that mark him as the King of Tokyo's underworld.

A pair of beautiful maroon eyes lands on you. An elegant eyebrow gets raised. An amused smirk lifts one corner of soft pink lips.

"Decided to provide me some company, my love?"

You smile at him while your heart beats wildly in your chest.

"Yes, I couldn't let you be here all stressed and alone, could I?"

You lick your lips nervously as you slowly unbutton your coat and then let it slip off your shoulder and fall to the floor, revealing your red lace lingerie to Sukuna's hungry gaze.

His smirk grows bigger. He lets go of the pen he was holding and leans back in his leather chair, maroon eyes never leaving yours as he says,

"Then come over here, angel, and sin for me."

You smile at him and start walking toward him, but his low, velvety voice stops you,

"Uh uh, not like that. Take it all off for me. Be a good girl for Daddy. Leave those panties on the floor."

You can feel your pulse even in your pussy, wild and excited, so turned on by being here in Sukuna's office late at night, the nightly city twinkling outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the King's eyes on you, knowing he wants you. And you are eager to please him, eager to obey his every command.

Sukuna looks like a sexy devil, sipping his vodka while watching you, his cat-like eyes trailing slowly over your body as you slip out of the lacey bra, moaning softly when you feel the air brush over your naked tits. You look at Sukuna with your heart racing as you let your hands slide down your sides, hooking your fingers in the luxurious fabric of your red panties.

Your breath quickens, and Sukuna's eyes flicker to yours.

"Yes, just like that, my good girl. Take them off. Show me your pretty pussy."

You feel light-headed with those maroon eyes on you as you push down your panties, letting them drop to the floor before you step out of them, leaving them behind as you slowly make your way to Sukuna's desk.

He watches you with his burning gaze, taking you in as if you are his prey or the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon. Maybe both at the same time.

You are so wet for him, so aroused by the situation, pussy creaming up so much that you feel it on your thighs as you slowly walk over to Sukuna.

The moment you have reached him, his strong hands grab your hips and pull you on his lap. You gasp, so turned on by being in his lap like this, wet and completely naked while he is still fully clothed, smirking at you like the devil that he is, his large hands so warm on your bare skin, his thumbs gently caressing your hips, making lust pool in your stomach.

But he isn't just the devil. He is also your lover, your man. His lips capture yours in a kiss that's equally passionate and tender.

"Kuna…"

Your voice comes out as a needy whimper when one of his hands slips between your spread legs to rub your wet swollen clit slowly, making your hips buck against him, smearing your cream all over his luxurious black suit pants.

You can hear the smile in his sexy voice when he says,

"Yeah, kitten?"

"I want to make you feel good… please… let me.. let me take your mind off work."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. And I guarantee you that you are very successful in your mission. I can't even remember what work is."

Sukuna pulls away from your lips to grin at you while his right-hand rubs those delicious slow circles around your clit, and his left hand opens his belt and pants. You moan softly when he frees his fat long cock, so gorgeous, so perfect, and all yours.

He gives it a few lazy pumps while he looks at you through his long black lashes,

"Come sit on my cock. Ride Daddy until every last trace of stress leaves his body."

His maroon eyes sparkle at you, his low voice soft like a caress, velvety and full of desire, as you gulp hard and lift yourself up enough to position your soaked, twitching pussy over Sukuna's swollen cockhead, slowly lowering yourself onto him, gasping when you feel his thick tip splitting you open.

You cry out softly when you sit down completely on him, taking his whole hard length into you, so deep, so perfect, making you feel so full. Your head is spinning, clit pulsing wildly. You could so easily get lost in pleasure. But you remind yourself why you are here. To take care of Sukuna, to help him de-stress, to help him forget about work. To spoil his gorgeous cock until he can't think anymore.

You lift yourself up again, moaning at the feeling of that veiny cock gliding through your wet heat. Your hands link behind Sukuna's neck, fingertips caressing the stubble of his undercut, and you look deeply into his eyes, gasping, when you sink down again, taking his gorgeous cock all the way into you again, clenching your hot cunt around him.

The low groan falling from Sukuna's lips is all the reassurance you need.

You moan his name as you bounce on his fat cock, riding the King thoroughly on his fancy office chair, taking him in so deep anytime you sink down on his lap again. Clenching around his fat cock, pleasuring him with your wet, hot cunt, spoiling his gorgeous cock like he deserves after a hard day at work.

Sukuna's large hands are on your naked ass cheeks, kneading them softly but not doing anything else, letting you take control, giving himself to you. Letting you ride him and take care of him just like you said you would.

His lips trail over your tits which jiggle in front of his face. His teeth graze over your hardened nipples, tongue flicking over them, making you cry out in lust.

And your horny cries get joined by Sukuna's low moans as he lets his head fall back against his leather chair, hands tightening on your ass, muscular tighs flexing beneath you as you feel his orgasm approach.

"Ah! Yes!! Oh Kuna, please cum in me, Daddy!"

A low growl escapes his lips as his eyes close and his hips buck, impaling you deeply on his gorgeous fat length. You can feel him cum in you, can feel his cock throb in you, shooting his hot seed into you in several strong bursts.

And you are spurred on by Sukuna's orgasm, riding him so sweetly through it, milking Sukuna's cock lovingly until he has given you every last drop of his hot seed. Fucking all the stress out of him. Serving the King of Tokyo's underworld like only you can.

You tumble over the edge a second later, crying out Sukuna's name loudly as your pussy shudders around him, and your cream gushes onto his cock and his fine suit pants, giving him your all too.

His large hands knead your ass gently as he slowly rolls his hips, fucking you through your orgasm, his lips claiming yours in another passionate kiss, kissing your lips and licking your tongue until your pussy stops spasming around his gorgeous cock.

Sukuna doesn't let go of you even when you pull away from your long kiss. His strong hands are sprawled over your hips, keeping you in place right where he wants you, on his lap, on his cock.

The nightly city is glittering beautifully outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, but you only have eyes for Sukuna. He looks so beautiful, his hair slightly ruffled from your fingers running through it, his maroon eyes filled with love, and his handsome face relaxed.

The smile on his face is so attractive and boyish that it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. A soft laugh escapes his lips before he tells you in that warm, velvety voice,

"Thank you, my love, for helping me take the edge off after such a stressful day. You're so good for Daddy."

AAAHHH YAKUZA KING SUKUNA MY LOVE!!! It was so comforting to write for him again after such a long time!! Thank you so much for requesting him!! I hope he made you happy too 💗

Comments and reblogs would be sweet!!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #jjk x y/n

921 notes · View notes

astro-royale · 6 months

Text

Personal Style(Colours) + Astrology

Disclaimer: My opinion👍

Fire signs:

Aries - Looks so good in beige, intense shades of red, dark blue, dark green, washed out yellow, Carnelian, they suit a laid back and chill style but also classy modern look. They suit Zara clothes a lot.

Leo- White, Jewel Tones, Classic Red, Orange, Yellow (Royal Royal Royal) anything that adds a touch of majesty.

Sagittarius- Red, Black, Charcoal grey, Colours which are a mix- indigo, turquoise etc, Copper… Very adventurous, motorbikes, leather jackets and all of that good stuff (80s vibe)

Water signs:

Cancer: Baby Pink, Baby Blue, a lot of Muted Colours look good on them too. I think When it comes to aesthetic, cancer is more fixated on hygiene rather than the little details.

Scorpio: Magenta, Maroon, darker shades in general , Silver. Maleficent vibes. HAHA (it’s true though, maleficent is so Plutonian) they look so good wearing outfits of one colour.

Pisces: white, most shades of blue, muted orange, salmon pink, look good with shimmery details too. Basically mermaid vibes. You want everything to seamlessly blend as if you were underwater.

Earth Signs:

Virgo: sage green, light yellow, caramel, light brown… very earthy colours for virgo. Simple clothes with no logos or details look super good too.

Capricorn: very solid colours, the basic colours on the colour wheel lol. Sophisticated styles very much so.

Taurus: They look good in classic colours, 1950s palette really suits them. They look very good mixing multiple colours from a classic palette/look

Air Signs:

Gemini: look super good in stripes, patterned shirts, clothes with patterns in general look super good. The influence of mercury here is making it hard for me to pin them down to specific shades. But I notice that 90s style can look super good on them and lean towards that unintentionally.

Aquarius: they look so good in ethereal colours, mixing ethereal colours with solid colours. Colours that remind you of the cosmos. ~Alien~

Libra: they look good in Y2K style very easily they gravitate towards that tbh, Barbie colours, very stereotypically feminine shades and colours… (basically most things) but in a way that stands out. NO washed out clothes/details. I think the muted colour that really suits them is beige.

I will be posting about Astrology& Personal Style on my YouTube Account too ;)

360 notes · View notes

kekaki-cupcakes · 9 months

Note

Hiiii! I loved ur Hermes kid!

Could I ask for a male son of Dionysus x either Leo or nico?

Sorry if I got ya wrong and don’t feel pressured or anything!

Have a lovely day!

When there isn't a lot of info in an ask I kinda have to make the reader a personality so that it isn't too bland too read so sorry to y'all that aren't like this <3

Redecoration---Nico di Angelo x Son of Dionysus

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico had been glaring at the roof of skulls for a solid ten minutes, sort of hoping the hatred in his eyes would just poof them out of existence, when someone finally showed up.

Apparently after an incident in the Aphrodite cabin, people weren’t allowed to just grab a bucket of paint and some new furniture to fuck around and find out, which was why Nico had been sent someone to help him fix the mess that was the Hades cabin.

Apart from the hundred skulls hot glue gunned to the rood, the beds were wooden coffins, the lamps were ancient looking chandeliers, and all of the walls were a dark ugly gray, like there was a serious mold problem. Now that he thought about it, the color might actually be a mold problem.

“Never fear, goth! For I am here!”

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Nico took a deep breath and turned around, obsidian eyes already narrowed with dislike as he took in the taller boy trotting over. He was holding a crate in his arms, filled with color swatches and chunks of fabrics, magazines sticking out of the top.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who needs redecorating, right?” The boy asked, already letting himself into the dim cabin that smelt of rich dark chocolate for some reason. “Yeah… no offense but we have to fix this, even if you're the wrong person.”

Nico felt a sudden need to defend the atrocious carpet and bat shaped door knocker from this boy, who was wearing a maroon shirt picturing a glass of wine. “I was eight.”

“No shame here, everyone makes bad decisions.”

There didn’t seem to be any point arguing with this boy, who had already dumped the box of supplies on one of the coffin bed lids, and was staring around at the dark cabin, hands on his hips.

Nico just followed him inside, shoving his hands into the slightly ripped pockets of his aviator jacket. He peered into the cardboard box, which was promptly tipped out onto the ground. He watched with a frown as the son of Mr D sat on the carpet and began rifling through the empty notebooks and cut up magazines. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, scrapbooking? We can’t just start painting the walls yellow yet, you have to plan this stuff out, goth.” He said, as if it was obvious. Then he smirked. “You don’t like arts and crafts?”

Nico’s frown deepened, but he couldn’t let this mildly infuriating boy with surprisingly cool bracelets upstage him. “I love arts and crafts.”

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and pulled out a leather bound book containing a few stickers and a strip of torn paper where a page had been pulled out. “Are you just gonna stand there in the corner and be grumpy?... That wasn’t sarcasm, you can if you want, I was just checking.”

Nico wasn’t an asshole, of course he was going to help. Still, he had to glare at the boy for that comment. Then he sat down and opened one of the magazines, which was featuring a life sized Barbie Dream House bed frame, fluffy pillows included. He flicked the page over with a grimace.

“So, what kinda vibe are we going for?”

“What?”

“I’m assuming you're sick of Dracula,” he said, waving his arms at the general doom and gloom around them. “So what aesthetic are we replacing it with?”

Nico didn’t want to admit he hadn’t planned this far into the venture, he’d really just been hoping he could repaint the walls, or maybe burn the whole thing down and start over. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Okay, well… I’m assuming you wanna keep it edgy, but seriously? A roof of skulls? You’re not a caveman. Maybe we should go with an Addams family style.” He shivered. “With less spiderwebs and disembodied hands. “

Ah, another gap in his modern education. “What’s an Addams family?”

All Nico got in return was a gaping mouth and wide eyes. “How do you not- okay, I’m making you watch the entire timeline later, but for now we need to pick a color scheme.”

Nico opened his mouth.

“Not black.”

Nico closed his mouth.

“Obviously there’ll be lots of black, but you need another color to fit with it, something dark and scary but colorful.” He pulled out a binder of color swatches, and flipped it open, skimming the pages of baby blues and lavenders. “Maybe dark green, or...”

“Red.” Nico said, peering over at the pages of ruby and scarlet. He pointed to the dark one, which had a little title below, ‘Blood red’. It was a little on brand, but it was better than ‘Crimson Tide’.

“Oooh, nice. If we keep the walls black, and pull up the black carpet, there’ll be floorboards underneath.” He started to ramble, ripping a color swatch out of the binder and gluing it into the leather bound book. He glanced around at the musty cabin.

“We can get a red rug for the middle of the cabin, and definitely new beds, but if we get Drew to refurbish the chandeliers they’ll look great. Oh, and the coffin bed frames could be a bookshelf if we get the mattress out and ask Nyssa to put some shelves in. Do you read? Because otherwise it’s sort of pointless. But so are the skulls on the roof, so…”

“You’re good at this.”

It took Nico a moment to realize what he’d just blurted, and when he did the warmth was already in his cheeks. He’d only been a little caught up in watching the son of Dionysus’s eyes sparkle as he talked, pointing to different parts of the cabin, and somehow ruined it. “I mean, you just sound like you’ve, you know, done this a lot.”

The glimmer in their eye didn’t fade, they only grinned harder. “I have. A lot. It’s fun!”

“I suppose so,” Nico said, his lips twitching, and opened another magazine. He skipped a page on clawfoot bathtubs [There was already a white one with gold trim in the bathroom]. There was a large heart shaped mirror, He ignored that too, and found a simple bedframe, painted black. He held it out gingerly. “What about this one?”

“Yes! Good job.” He said, snipping it out of the magazine quickly, and sticking it next to a picture of a glass chandelier. “If you’ve got a simple bed, we could find a zebra print blanket, they always look good with black and red, as long as you don’t have, like, leopard print.”

“I thought you’d like leopard print?”

“And I thought you’d like skulls on your roof and coffin shaped beds,” he teased, with a smug little smile. Nico rolled his eyes, and picked out a strip of dark red fabric, passing it over.

He shook some glitter from his hands, there seemed to be piles of it in the box. “It’s a little over the top, but it’s not as bad as Jason’s cabin. It’s just rock. Everywhere. And a giant statue of his father.”

“Maybe he can be my next client,” he hummed, wiping glue from his fingers onto the molding carpet beneath them. A few shards of rounded glass were taped to the pages of the scrapbook, shining in the light of the dusty stained chandeliers.

Nico wanted to object. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want the boy in front of him with glitter on his cheekbones and scissors in his hands to be cutting out pictures and teasing someone else. Instead he looked away, feeling something in his chest surge, something like fear. Fear of what, he didn’t know, but he cleared his throat and moved on.

“Don’t you have a sister too?”

The fear surged back forwards and Nico whipped around, his tone sharp. “What?”

“The roman one, I swear I saw her the other day, when Reyna visited to plan something or other.” he said casually, not seeing the pale tinge to Nico’s face. “With the overalls and the bulldog?”

“That’s Frank,” Nico said, his shoulder sinking with relief.

“No, I’m pretty sure it was Hazel, she had those light up sketchers, with the little wheels on the bottom.” He said, somehow with a moon shaped sticker on his nose as he stuck little cut out paper skulls around the four page collage.

“Frank’s the bulldog, he can turn into animals.” Nico had a strange urge to reach out and press the sticker on his nose, so instead he held his hands tightly in his lap.

“Well, is there something Hazel’d like in the cabin when she visits? Does she read?”

Nico sighed, and reached back for the magazine he discarded. He shook it open, cut outs of fluffy teddies falling into his lap. He found the page with the heart shaped bathroom mirror and ripped it out carefully. He could take a few hearts in his cabin if Hazel would like them. “This one.”

“Oh, that one's cute, Nyssa could totally make it.”

“I can ask Leo, he owes me a favor.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I haven't killed him yet.”

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico pressed down the front of his shirt. It was a black Camp Halfblood shirt, which he’d gotten from Piper after the Aphrodite cabin had started making shirts in other colors. Apparently there were only so many outfits you could wear with orange.

Black goes with everything though, so it wasn’t a problem for him.

He made his bed [closed the lid of the coffin] and dragged the last of the furniture not nailed to the ground out onto the little deck all of the cabins had. His decking only had a few pairs of shoes and a pot of dead roses he’d never bothered to keep alive. Maybe he’d have another go.

Drew had taken the chandeliers already, to polish them and whatnot, so he only had to wait for his assigned son of Dionysus to show up, and they could start hunting for zebra print blankets and ripping skulls off the ceiling. What fun.

When he still hadn’t shown up, Nico finished pulling all of the previously made bedding from the coffins and dumping it to the side so that Leo could turn it to a bookshelf [He could read, he just had dyslexia thank you very much], and then set off to the Dionysus cabin. It was easy to find, the only male god on the female side, with trelice’s of ivy decorating the whitewashed walls and a grumpy looking leopard snoozing on the purple swinging chair out the front of the small cabin.

He didn’t really want to knock, but he was sure someone would report him for standing around too menacingly if he just waited. He was saved from indecision when the door opened, revealing a tall sandy haired boy.

“You’re the goth, aren’t you?” Pollux sniffed, his nose red. “We can’t help today, but Butch is free, he can do some heavy lifting, and I’m sure Drew’ll criticize your style if you ask nicely enough.”

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“I mean,” Pollux started, rubbing his eyes, and Nico only then realized he was still wearing his pajamas. They had an elongated cartoon owl sticking out of a doorway on it. “Skulls on the ceiling is a bit much, and everyone think you’re a vamp-”

“I meant with you guys, not my style,” Nico interrupted, his eyes narrowed.”

“Someone, decided to go visit Lou Ellen even though we all know she has a cold, and now I have it-” Pollux was cut off once again, his mockingly loud voice reaching the people inside.

“I’m sorry I was concerned for my friend, she wanted soup!”

“She always wants soup!” Pollulx yelled back, and Nico moved past the older child of Dionysus, slipping off his shoes and letting himself into the cabin.

There was nasally muttering behind him and the door slid shut. Nico peered around, and saw a bundle of fluffy blankets on a couch, only a sneezing head poking out the top. “Why did you get sick?”

“I mean it wasn’t really on purpose,” he mumbled back, wiping his nose with a tissue and sinking back into his cocoon. “I can’t help today, but-”

“I don’t care,” Nico started, and plopped down on the white couch, avoiding a deep red stain that could be alcohol or blood. He couldn’t tell. He also didn’t know how to say he’d rather sleep in the coffin again then have to spend the day with someone else.

He sniffed, falling sideways a little on the couch and squinting at the square tv, which was showing some old cartoon about cavemen. “Mkay, well you should probably go if you don’t wanna get sick.”

Nico thought for a moment, trying not to focus on how much he wanted to scoop up the bundle of blankets in his arms far too skinny for that sort of stuff. “Why don’t we watch ‘an Adam family’?

He got watery wide eyes in return and a toothy grin, “wait really?”

“No. If I was making a joke it’d be funnier than that.”

“Okay, let’s watch it,” he said, hopping off the couch and moving to a box of DVDs with a lot of energy for someone so sick. “And it’s the Addams family, goth. You have to learn the basics of this culture if you’re gonna have coffin bookshelves.”

He fiddled around with the tv and then a grainy black and white intro came on, tinny music over the top. Nico watched as he danced to the theme tune in his blanket burrito, all the way back to the couch, where he landed, coughing and winded. Nico raised an eyebrow. “I could’ve done that, you’re sick.”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” he mumbled, tucking the fluffy socks on his feet up onto the white couch and wiggling with excitement. Nico watched him for a moment, and then turned back to the TV, feeling his lips twitch into a grin.

Duh duh duh duh, click click. Duh duh duh duh, click click.

Their creepy and they're kooky-

»»————-　★　————-««

“Neeks, this mirror is so cute!”

“You’re welcome,” Nico muttered, rubbing his nose and rolling over, pulling the zebra print doona cover further over his head.

He heard Hazel’s wheelie shoes click along the floorboards and she gilded out of the bathroom. When he peered out, her hair was in bunchies and she was pulling a purple hoodie over her head. “It’s so much nicer in here now, but how did you get sick redecorating?”

“Uhm..There was a lot of dust. I might be allergic?”

The door slammed open, the clear chandelier hanging from the roof shaking as Nyssa trudged in, her work boots leaving mud on the fluffy blood red rug. She was holding the glitter covered scrapbook in her gloved hands.

“So, I know I’m supposed to make everything in this, but what am I supposed to do with the polaroid of you kissing Mr D ‘s kid?”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #nico di angelo #nico #nico pjo #nico di angelo x reader #nico di angelo x you #nico di angelo x son of dionysus #hazel levesque #Pollux pjo #Hades #Hades cabin #death siblings

316 notes · View notes