#and I wanna try and focus on one topic at a time
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The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me
Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me
warnings: making out, mentions of death, trauma, heavy petting, premature ejaculation
pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
summary: you meet up with Kento once more and invite him to your dorm on the night that holiday break starts. after an intense game of Two Truths And A Lie, things get a little handsy. you eventually have to comfort him after he gets a little too excited.
a/n: Chapter title is in reference to the song "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" by Fall Out Boy.
TAGLIST: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @marikuchanxo @gennaray @markleeisdabestdrug
MDNI banners and Reblog for support banners by @\benkeibear <3
Masterlist
For a few weeks after the kiss, Nanami was avoiding you a little. He would say hi to you if you were to outright greet him, but he never really approached you. So you decided to give him a little room. You worried a little that maybe you had been too forward with him during that first hangout.
Your classes were going well. Slowly, you found yourself competing with Kento for the top spot in terms of grades. Your projects went well, and you even began to make friends. Things were going really smoothly. In a few more weeks, it was time for the first holiday leave of the semester. You were excited to go home.
Everything seemed to be going so well. You were thrilled at the prospect of having some time off to focus on spending time with your parents. Then the inevitable happened. They called to tell you they’d be staying somewhere else for the holiday.
So you were going to be stuck in your dorm for the holiday. You’d be alone. With your plans crushed, you decided to make the best of it. You’d be spending the majority of your time in the dorm, then maybe you’d try to go out and do a little shopping at some point. You wanted to make yourself feel a little better, even though you knew things would be bleak.
Everyone is getting ready to leave for the holiday, and you notice that only a handful of students are staying. One of them happens to be Nanami Kento. Your heart soars at the thought of spending even just a little time with him. Ever since that night, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind.
You approach him, a shy look on your face. Kento looks away, blushing a little. Then, when you’re face-to-face, he offers you a bashful smile.
“Staying here for the holiday?” you ask.
He nods, “Yeah. You?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but my folks are headed out on vacation. So I can’t go home.”
Nanami finds himself feeling sad for you. He knows what it’s like to not have a place to go for the holidays. He hasn’t talked to his parents in a long time. Ever since he attended Jujutsu Tech, he had managed to keep them at a safe distance. They had understood, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them, and they didn’t miss him. Nanami just couldn’t find the courage to contact them after years of not talking to them.
“M-maybe we can keep each other company.”
Your heart skips a beat at his suggestion. You flash him the sweetest smile, nodding your head.
“I’d love that.”
Nanami scratches the back of his head nervously, “You busy right now?”
You shake your head, “Nope. Wanna come by my dorm? We can watch anime, get some take-out.”
Nanami smiles and he offers you his hand. For the first time in weeks, he was showing you that he still wanted to be around you. And you were enjoying every moment of being with him.
Once inside your dorm room, you and Kento decide to watch some anime together. Then you take the time to order a pizza, memorizing the toppings he enjoys. It’s like you two have been friends for ages instead of just a few weeks.
When the pizza gets there, you and Kento sit at the table. The topics of conversation seem to flow very easily between the two of you. But neither of you talk about the kissing. It’s something that seems to be a little taboo to mention right now.
Eventually, you suggest playing a little game to break the ice even more.
“Two truths and a lie. You tell three stories; two of them true and one of them a lie.”
Kento smirks. “Alright, I think I can enjoy this.”
You begin to think about what you’re going to tell him. This had been a game you had played in one of your clubs in high school. He seems to be thinking about it just as hard as you. Then you take another sip of your soda before you look at him.
“You first.” You offer, and he shakes his head.
“Not ready. You go first.”
You sigh but you smirk playfully. Then you scratch your chin, making a big show of considering it.
“Okay, so first, I used to work in a bank. It’s why I’m studying business and finance.”
Kento studies your features, “A bank, huh? Yeah okay…I could see it.”
“Secondly, my parents are high school sweethearts, and they had me very young. My mom was only nineteen when she gave birth to me.”
This makes Kento laugh: “High school sweethearts is the right term. Damn, nineteen?!”
You nod, “Yup! And lastly, I was in a commercial when I was a little baby.”
Kento considers all the things you’ve just said. He wants to almost believe you aren’t lying at all, but you don’t seem the type to lie about the game. He doesn’t know enough about you to truly figure out the lie, so he’s going to guess.
“I call bullshit on the last thing. There’s no way you were in a commercial.”
You laugh, “Nope! That’s not the lie. My parents weren’t high school sweethearts. They met in college.”
Kento’s eyes widened, “What commercial?!”
You go over to grab your laptop, and you pull up the video. It’s a commercial for baby food, and Kento finds himself so endeared by the way you were so cute then. Not to say you aren’t cute now, but it’s much different.
“You’re turn,” you say as you begin eating another piece of pizza.
Kento considers it all very carefully. He knows that he has to keep his Jujutsu life under wraps, but maybe it couldn’t hurt for you to know a bit more about his past. He knows what he’s about to say might make you feel pity for him, and he doesn’t necessarily want to use it to his advantage, but he does want you to know more about him. Even the ugly parts need to be known.
“First, my star sign is Cancer. My birthday is July 3rd.”
You smile and say, “I can see it. You are moody and brooding.”
Kento frowns, “Hey! I’m not ‘moody’ nor am I ‘brooding’. I am just a loner…”
You reach over to squeeze his hand, “Sorry, please continue.”
Nanami looks over at you and sighs, “Blond isn’t my natural hair color. I dye it.”
“Oooh, rebellious. I like it.”
Then Nanami swallows hard. He had been considering this last one for a long time. He knows it could go sour. It could make him feel terrible to even speak about it. He looks at you and he feels his heart aching.
“My best friend died at seventeen.”
You nearly choke on your soda. Was this true? Surely that had to be the lie. You weren’t sure because you didn’t think his hair was dyed. So maybe his star sign was something else.
“W-what?” you manage to spit out.
Nanami looks down at his hands on his lap, “Which one is the lie? Isn’t that the game?”
You look away, your bottom lip trembling. This was starting to become serious. Because of the way he was acting and talking, you had to know that the third thing he said was the truth.
“D-did he really die? Your best friend?”
Nanami gasps at the way you just ignored the directives of the game. You looked inside of him, seeing his true emotions. You notice the quiver in his bottom lip. You watch as he wants to be completely swallowed up by the ground.
“H-he did. He died when he was seventeen.”
You don’t know what to say. How could someone go through something like that and continue on through life? You reach over and give his hand a careful squeeze.
“We can stop the game now,” you offer.
Kento nods shakily, “Probably for the best.”
After a few moments of silence, you get up to clean the kitchenette. Then you guide him over to the couch, wrapping him up in a blanket. Nanami feels the warmth coming from you. Something about these little actions is calming him down.
Then you both look at each other. There’s an electricity in the air, tinged with sadness. He reaches out for you, pulling you in closer. He holds you tightly, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“You’ve been my first friend since then.” He finally says: “Well, my first close friend since Yu.”
You blink away tears. “I’m here for you, Kento. I promise.”
He shudders in your embrace. He’s not sure what’s coming over him. A myriad of emotions seem to be attacking him, making him feel weak for you. Then he looks at you with tear-filled eyes. You slowly close the gap, kissing his lips so softly. Kento pushes himself closer, cupping your face.
“I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you,” he whispers.
You smile sweetly. “It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to talk to me about that stuff if you want to.”
Then Kento resumes kissing you. It’s less sloppy than the last time. You can tell he was taking his cues from you. This time, he seems confident enough to take the lead. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, and you gladly part them.
He lets out a cute moan when your tongues touch. You don’t know if he’s using this type of emotion and release to try and forget about the pain, but you won’t judge him for it. You’ll allow him to do this if it means he’ll feel better afterwards.
His hands begin to wander; he’s caressing you so tenderly and tentatively. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, gently rubbing. You begin to feel the physique that seems to be underneath all that dark clothing.
“You taste so good,” he says timidly when you pull away.
“Yeah? Not just like pizza?”
He chuckles. “Better than pizza.”
This causes you to kiss him deeply. You guide one of his hands to your breast, making him gasp. It’s so cute to know that he’s a complete virgin. You know you want to show him how to navigate this rocky road. You want to show him how to properly have a good time sexually. Your first time had been with someone more experienced than yourself, and they had taught you all the right things.
Then you feel his other hand join the first one, and he’s kneading your breasts. You pull away from the kiss to rest your forehead against his. You can tell he’s learned some of this from porn, and you place your own hands on his.
“Gentler,” you whisper. “Softer.”
“S-sorry…”
“Don’t be. You’re learning. You can take your time, we’re not in a rush.”
Kento feels a renewed sense of confidence. He uses your words of wisdom and goes slower and more gently. You begin to feel aroused, and you pant and moan at the way he’s massaging your tits. He’s going to become a natural in no time if you keep guiding him like this.
Suddenly, he pushes you back against the couch. You look up at him, and a smirk spreads on his face. He leans in to kiss you, laying his weight on top of you. It’s all so needy and a little desperate, but not unwanted. Kento kisses you with a heated passion.
“Mmmm, fuck you smell good.”
Just his words alone could make you melt into a puddle of mush. You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed a make-out session quite like this one. Nanami finally gains enough courage to begin grinding against you, and immediately you feel his erection against your thigh. Your eyes nearly bulge out when you feel just how thick his cock is.
“I want you so badly,” he whispers.
“I want you too,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Let’s keep taking it slow, honey.”
Kento grunts softly as he grinds against you again. You move in tandem with him, enjoying the way this feels. Your body is heating up from the friction, and you can see the way there’s a dusting of pink on Kento’s cheeks and the tops of his ears from how aroused he is.
He’s trying to ignore the pleasure building in the pit of his tummy, and he’s certainly trying his best to ignore the way his balls are drawing up so fast. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. He’s whimpering and moaning your name as you two continue kissing in a hungry way and moving your bodies in the most perfect way.
“I—I—hnng fuck this feels so good,”
You nod your head, moaning his name as you grind against him a little harder. Kento whines as his cock begins to throb, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut to hold off the inevitable. A few more thrusts from your hips and he’s a goner.
“Shit! W-wait, I—”
He cries out as he begins to cum. Shot after shot of his cum begins to fill the front of his boxers. His hips stutter and he’s got the sexiest ‘O’ face you’ve ever seen. His cheeks are still a little pink as he slowly comes down from the high.
“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses as he gets up.
You’re quick to get up and you gather him up in your arms. You press the softest kiss to his lips.
“Listen to me, Ken. I’m not mad.”
He’s relieved to hear your words, but he’s still so fucking mortified. He wants to leave. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes right now.
“I’m not mad. It can happen to anyone. If anything, I am so flattered.”
Kento scoffs, “Shut up. It’s embarrassing.”
You kiss him again, “Baby, it’s okay.”
You offer him something to get changed into, and he finally relents and agrees to it. You find some baggy sweatpants in your room and you hand them to him along with a washcloth. He scurries to the bathroom, cursing himself.
You sit on the couch, adjusting the pillows and blankets to make a cute little cuddle pile. Then you grab some water and wait for him to return. Kento eventually does return to you after cleaning himself up and changing. And of course, a lengthy pep talk in the mirror.
He sits next to you, leaving some space. You hand him the bottle of water. He takes a few sips and then places the bottle down on the coffee table. You slowly scooch over towards him, smiling sweetly. Then you take his hand in yours, and he doesn’t pull away.
“Stay the night? We can snuggle and watch anime.”
Kento laughs, “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”
You rest your head on his shoulder. You have so many questions to ask him, but for right now, you just want to bask in this feeling. Kento rests his head on yours, thankful for the silence.
#bacon.writes#nanami x reader#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#kento nanami smut#nanami kento smut#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento#nanami fluff#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami x reader smut#nanami smut#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami x y/n#kento x reader#nanamin#jujutsu nanami#jjk smut
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Ok, I'm gonna start a post idea I had been pondering. If you're either mentally or physically disabled and you have opinions about representation, this is the thread for you!
So, I've been seeing more people trying to tackle the topic of autism in their stories, but I've felt some of it tries to woobify a bit what is to live with autism, or just focus on the more socially acceptable quirks of it. And as someone with autism/ADHD (was suspected of it for most of my life, got it finally diagnosed by my therapist (who specializes in autism and ADHD) last year), sometimes I'd like for people to acknowledge the more unsavoury parts of it, the weird quirks, etc.
So, this post is going to be about that- If you wanna help people understand how your disability/neurodivergency affects your life, feel free to add to it! Just mention what do you have (no need for a full list, just what you consider relevant to the post) and some experiences, quirks, anecdotes or such that you think that are not often seen in stories or media, and that you consider an important part of it. They don't need to be huge things! I encourage people to share just whatever they feel comfortable. My list is gonna be a mix of stuff, but yours can be very different. Let me start!
Clothes and how they feel was surprisingly one of the most disruptive parts of my autism. As a kid, if I was forced to wear something that caused me some bad texture/sensitivity issues, it would significantly affect my behaviour and performance. It took me many years to be allowed to use mostly sportswear. (And it turns out being a "girl" (not anymore) wearing only sportswear tends to cause a whole lot of bullying)
This happens even nowadays. I've found out that non-heeled boots are more comfortable to me than sport shoes, because feeling something against the back of my foot makes me feel overwhelmed. I tend to wear yoga pants under actual pants, because they keep the actual pants' seams from causing sensory issues. There's almost a sort of ritual on how do I need to combine clothes to be able to function "normally", mostly consisting on reducing how much they annoy me.
On that topic, hygiene is actually a huge thing too. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to shower daily. Days I didn't shower, no matter how much I tried to keep my hygiene in other days, were "bad days" to me. I would literally plan hanging out with friends or eating out around the days I was allowed to shower. I could physically feel the difference between the day I showered and the day I didn't (even if I washed my face, armpits, used the bidet, etc).
This is true even nowadays. I can thankfully now shower daily, which isn't recommended by a lot of experts (specially because it can damage your hair and skin), but it's more worth to me than having days where I feel like I shouldn't be seen in public.
Being overwhelmed sucks! Meltdowns are mostly associated with kids, mostly because adults either learn to mask them, or do everything they can to AVOID having that meltdown. I've mostly figured out routines and such. There's this one place we go eat out every other Tuesday- And in the hours we go in, there's a sort of silent corner that is always free. This week's schedule was a mess, so we went yesterday to that same place, and the silent corner was filled with a very loud group. I got extremely overwhelmed. But enough masking drilled to me means I just sat there unable to talk for maybe 30 minutes.
Autistic adults still do have autism and experience often the full spread of traits, they've just found ways to mask, or avoid being in situations where they do need to do that. I've adapted my life and routine to that. But sometimes I land on situations out of my comfort zone that will make me feel just like when I was a kid. I want to freelance online because I'm fully aware I can't perform properly in a public facing job.
Group projects sucked so much. I know they suck for most people, but most times it was easier for me to do the entirety of the project by myself and add the others' names to it than dealing with chasing people for their parts. My college had a 6-months-long massive group project in the last year, with a 7 people group, which obviously I couldn't do alone. The whole experience was so harmful in so many ways I've had several full therapy sessions talking about it :'')
One of the reasons it's because mental flexibility is HARD with autism. If i set a schedule, I expect that schedule to be followed. If people agree to do a part, I expect that part to be delivered (unless there's a proper reason) on due time. People hate this a lot usually! It will tear group projects apart!
Stimming can be harmless, or it can be very annoying to some. I tend to shake legs and play with something in my hands. I could easy this off drawing in classes- My high school found out that I was paying more attention when I was allowed to draw in classes, and my academic performance was pretty much perfect, so they gave me permission to do that.
However, I had a teacher in middle school that did forbid me from drawing. I stimmed during a class with pens- She got so mad she sent me home with a note to my parents they had to sign. Fun!
Not exactly an anecdote, but I am ace. I hate the discourse about "making an autistic person be aro or ace is infantilizing autism". Aro/ace people can have autism. That's just how it is. I've been infantilized a lot for being ace- Which only got worse because I am autistic, and people perceived some of my special interests as child-ish. The combo didn't make things easy.
On that topic, people will often be very patronizing of your opinions or takes for being autistic. I've had people debate my sexuality (or lack of thereof), my gender identity and presentation, my hobbies, my preferences for everything, down to "what do you want to eat tonight?". This isn't too different to shitty takes about how "autistic people are more prone to being affected by the trans activistsTM", because people assume autistic people can't choose on their own. Trust me: We can.
Anyhow, I'd love if this post could be a good compilation of these sort of anecdotes! I think it could help people who wanna learn more about what is it to live with specific disabilities (and how to better portray them in media)
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I love how AS!Tetra is the Zelda that is always getting messed with when she hates being the damsel in distress 🤣
I don't know if you've already got something for AS!Aurora and AS!Dawn but maybe Dawn could be the princess of Hyrule while Aurora is the lost princess of Termina? Just a thought that's been bouncing around my head. I love this au so much! Keep up the great work!
Yeah Tetra is straight up not having a good time in this au. I haven’t played most of the games to know exactly how she impacts the plot, but tbh she’d likely take a more active role than Fable does canonically. At the very least, I’ve decided that she and Ravi team up with Wind during the TFH adventure. She also doesn’t get trapped in a painting the whole time in albw, and instead has some important moments with Princess Hilda (AS Hilda is much like Ravi, where she’s the counterpart of Tetra specifically and thus very different from the canon Hilda). But that’s a story for another post lol
As for Aurora and Dawn, I honestly love that idea! Hyrule spends most of his adventures alone, seeing as he doesn’t have a fairy companion. He’s his own fairy, after all (though he wishes he had some sort of companion).
He became close to Aurora during his first adventure. She had faked her death and taken on a different persona in the older time (going by Borealis rather than Sheik, since there’s already a bunch of sheiks in this au and I’ve gotta differentiate them somehow).
When Hyrule was sent back to relive his childhood, he met Aurora. An Aurora who had never been Borealis. An Aurora who hadn’t been there for the hardships he’d faced. An Aurora that he didn’t recognize and didn’t know. It hurt a little too much and he kinda avoided her, grieving a friend she’d never become and not healed enough to try and create a new friendship with her (something he’d go back and do later, after the events of LU, but he’s not quite there yet).
As for Dawn, I had pretty much no ideas for her, so having her be the lost princess of Termina is really cool! Or, perhaps, since Termina is a world parallel to Hyrule (according to the wiki, I haven’t actually played MM yet), she could be a lost Princess of Hyrule, trapped in a magic slumber for an unspecified amount of time until she’s found in Termina.
Either way, I like the idea that Hyrule awakens her and she then helps him with the loops, somehow being able to remember them along with him (perhaps due to her inherent magic abilities?). She would help him take notes, plan, and prepare for the next loop. She’d teach him how to read, help him take his own notes, and generally act as a sort of motherly figure to Hyrule. Though, perhaps due to her extended magical sleep, she’d be weak and unable to directly assist him.
Hyrule is glad that he doesn’t have to face this adventure alone, but accepted right from the start of it that he’d never see her again afterward (just like Borealis). As the loops progress, he shifts his thinking slightly to “if I ever escape this, I’ll never see her again”. Maybe he wastes a loop or two spending time with her. What does it matter? These days will just repeat again. Dawn can hardly fault him for needing a break, after all. He’s just a kid despite everything he’s facing.
I’d like to think that Dawn comes to Hyrule with him after Termina. She reconnects with Aurora and the rest of her family (I’m not sure how exactly Aurora is related to her, but she is, and some of the older relatives probably recognize her. I’m not sure how this plays out and I hesitate to say anything concrete despite these older games not having any serious lore lol). Anyway, she’s given her own place to rest and recover from her magically induced slumber. She opens her doors of Hyrule, of course, but he doesn’t stay. After spending all that time adventuring, he’s become unused to just relaxing. He can’t stand to stay in one place, and as he gets older that shifts into a desire to travel. Having Dawn’s home as a safe place he can always go to and rest has helped him immeasurably, and he even wrote a particular song to warp to his bedroom in her home.
After the events of LU, he’d go and try to make more connections with people. He’d stay with her more often. Time, someone he’d eventually look up to, said that he began to heal from his adventures by reaching out to family and friends (namely his siblings and Malon), so he tries to do the same. He’s still got a sense of wanderlust and often goes traveling, but he visits more often and starts to build a friendship with Aurora once more (who has become a lot more like the Borealis he remembers, but enough time has passed for him to stop comparing the two as much).
#I fell in love with this suggestion tbh#And when writing this I also fell in love with the idea of an older more mature Zelda for Dawn#Hyrule is very lonely so having someone like Dawn would be amazing for his character arc#linked universe#lu adventure swap au#lu hyrule#lu aurora#lu dawn#lu tetra#I’d love to talk about Tetra some more but my rambles tend to get long#and I wanna try and focus on one topic at a time#Also I really need to get around to designing the Zeldas lmao but that’s a lot of work
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I've been writing for a while so I thought I'd share some writing tips I've learned along the way.
1. Never sacrifice the flow for a quirky line.
That bit of dialogue or flowery paragraph you really like but it kinda disrupts the flow? Scrap it. I know it hurts, but you need to. If you really want to keep it, find somewhere else to put it where it actually fits in.
2. Dialogue is a dance.
Dialogue should go at the pace of an actual conversation, back and forth with little breaks and pauses. Add as little dialogue tags as possible while still making it clear who is speaking. You can also describe what is happening during a pause in the conversation rather than saying they paused, unless the pause is important.
3. Show don't tell is a guideline, not a rule.
Show don't tell is a very useful guideline, but if you're ALWAYS showing it can get exhausting to read. Skip the boring bits and just tell us what happened, then we can get to the good stuff.
4. If it's boring to write, it's probably boring to read.
If you can cut out a whole scene with little consequence to the story, you probably should. As I said before, you don't always have to show us, you can always tell us.
5. Everything needs to have a purpose.
I know there are probably lots of interesting or cute scenes where your characters are just fucking around, but if it doesn't develop character, relations, conflict, or plot, why should we care? Definitely still write them if they make you happy, but if you're gonna add it to your final draft, make sure it matters.
6. You don't need to explain everything all at once.
I know it feels tempting to put all the lore, and all the character's intentions, and reasonings into the first few chapters, but please refrain, you can reserve that for your character and worldbuilding sheets. Instead, take the time to let us get to know the characters, and the world, in the same way we'd get to know a real person. Make your exposition as seamless and natural as possible. It will take practice to know when to reveal information and when to let us wonder, but you'll get there.
7. Write in a way that comes naturally.
I know you probably have an author you wanna write just like, but that is unlikely to happen. Embrace your natural writing style and perfect it, rather than trying to be something you're not. Writing is an art, you need to find your own style and polish it as best you can.
8. Try to make us feel connected by cutting out certain words like "felt".
"Chad felt like a glass of water." Can be replaced with, "Chad was thirsty, so he reached for a glass of water." Both sentences tell us Chad wants a glass of water, but one makes us feel more connected to Chad than the other. Though both sentences have their time and place, you want to make your audience feel as close to their protagonist as possible. Make them feel like they're there, rather than just an onlooker.
9. We don't need to know every physical detail of your character.
I know you probably spent ages creating the perfect characters and you want to give us the perfect image of what they look like, but it can get monotonous and boring, why do we care that your character has brown eyes unless the colour has some sort of significance? Try to list off only the most notable features of your character and put focus only on the relevant details. Sometimes you can even not describe them at all and throw in little bits of information about their appearance for the audience to put together. We read to imagine, not to have a perfect image painted for us when we could be getting to the plot.
10. You're allowed to be vague.
Allow your audience to assume things, with some things you can just be lazy and let your audience's imagination do the work for you. Of course, don't do this with important things, but you can save so much time you might've spent researching an irrelevant topic when you can just be vague about it. You don't have to know everything you're writing about, so long as you know the bits that matter.
11. Writing is a skill that takes practice.
Don't be so hard on yourself if your writing is a bit cringe, we've all been there. The important part is that you research how to get better and keep writing those super cringe chapters. One day you'll reread something from a while ago and realize you're actually not as bad as you thought.
12. Leave your work to rest.
I know you wanna start editing right away, but once you've finished, leave it for at least a month. The longer you leave it the better, but that depends on your attention span. A month to six months is good if you're really impatient but want a good result. If you keep writing in that time your skills will continue to improve, then you'll be editing that draft with fresh eyes and fresh skills.
And if you're a fanfic author, I usually leave my chapters for a week before editing and posting.
Hope this helps anyone struggling, I thought this might be especially relevant now with nanowrimo.
I recently realized how much knowledge I've been accumulating over the years, I definitely have more but this is all I can think of for now.
I'm no writing guru, but if anyone has anything they're struggling with, I can do my best to help you out, so dont hesitate to ask questions.
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to feel wanted (bang chan x gn!reader)
hurt/comfort i think???, very self indulgent, channie is here to stay
an: this is the aftermath of me procrastinating on uni stuff, have fun reading it😽
“why would you say that?”
you blinked a few times, tilting your head to the side. did you say something wrong?
“what do you mean?” you mumbled, taking a sip of your coffee. you grimaced, feeling it taste more bitter than usual.
“you said we’re not close,” chan elaborated and you nodded. you did say that, yes, but what was so wrong about it? “i don’t wanna make it about myself, but it hurts, y’know?” he added, making you freeze. you looked up at him with a bewildered face and it almost made chan apologise, but he couldn’t drop the topic now, not when he finally worked up the courage to broach it with you.
“i don’t think i understand,” you said with a forced smile, huffing gently to lighten the mood around you two. you hoped he’d just say “yeah, forget it”, but it seemed to seriously bother him as he searched for the best way to voice his concerns.
“i know you don’t have a lot of close friends,” chan started hesitantly, not sure if it won’t hurt you. you frowned but nodded nonetheless, aware of your nonexistent social life. “but saying that we aren’t close? c’mon,” he sighed. you dropped your head, stirring the straw in your coffee a few times. your cheeks burned and your breathing became erratic. you took another sip of your bitter drink.
“it’s just… easier for me,” you started quietly, not daring to look him in the eyes. you reached out for a napkin from the dispenser, desperately trying to busy your hands with something, anything just to not focus entirely on the conversation you never wanted to have in the first place. “i always do this, it’s like some kind of… defence mechanism or something. at least that’s what i tell myself.” chan glimpsed at you with a concerned look on his face, straightening his posture.
“so… what does it mean exactly?” he asked, observing as you folded and unfolded the napkin. you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the vulnerability.
“throughout my life i learned that people don’t really like me. they tend to think i’m rude or weird and they never want to talk to me after they meet me,” you shrugged your shoulders. “i’ve always been the kind to get attached really quickly, so it hurt me whenever they left. so now i just kind of… gaslight myself into thinking that people don’t care about me and that i’m not close to anybody.” chan observed you intently as you spoke almost nonchalantly about your struggles. he stayed silent as you put the napkin away and just stared into the table.
“you know i’d never leave you, right…?” he whispered, not exactly sure how he should feel. he was hurt, of course, because for the past few months you two had known each other he considered you one of the closest people in his life. you made him happier, like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day or a cup of warm tea on a winter evening. why couldn’t you see how important you were to him?
you finally made eye contact with him, looking for any type of sarcasm in his sight, but instead you were met with softness, gentleness, love.
you nodded silently, blinking rapidly as you felt the tears sting at the corners of your eyes. you couldn’t open up fully just yet, but you wanted to believe him. you wanted to know what it’s like when someone genuinely cares about you and is willing to keep up with your odd traits and strange personality.
you wanted to feel wanted.
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OBVIOUS bada lee x reader
warnings: yn is a member of twice, everybody is out here embarrassing yn, fluff
yn leaned into her seat as she watched the dancers, she was so focused that she didn’t even realize monika lean over to her.
“yn.” she whispers, the twice member hums in response her attention still ahead of her, “she was staring at you hard.”
that’s what gets yn’s attention, she snaps her head towards her fellow judge, “who?” she whispers back.
“you know who.” the girl whispers back as yn looks at her confused, she really didn’t know who monika was talking about. “you’ve been keeping your eyes on her the whole time as well.”
yn tenses finally realizing who monika was talking about, she turned her gaze back in front of her, “I’ve been keeping my eyes on everyone.” she replies, shrugging nonchalantly.
“oh, right..” monika trails off nonchalantly, “so you haven’t been taking quick glances at that tall one over there, what’s her name again?” she asks sarcastically.
“bada.” yn replies quickly before cursing at herself as monika’s smile grows big.
monika raises her brow teasingly as yn shakes her head, “shut up, leave me alone.”
“does the great yn have a crush?” monika whispers, laughing to herself as yn shakes her head, “or is it the other way around, cause she’s been staring a lot.”
it was true, of course yn didn’t notice much because she was focused on the other girls, well at least tried to, but monika noticed, she noticed how the dancer stared at yn when she was introduced as a judge and how she always took glances at yn when she wasn’t looking.
yn glared at her before letting out a deep sigh, “you’re talking out of your ass.” she said adjusting herself in her seat, “how about instead of being the person that causes me stress, focus on the dancers, and think about what you’re gonna say.”
“oh I definitely know why you wanna focus on the dancers.” monika teases as she looked ahead of her to see the main topic of the conversation come to the middle. “look at her all tall for you.”
yn looked down in her lap, trying her best not to burn into flames, she’s really regretting taking up momo’s suggestion for this,“how about you shut up and watch kirsten and bada dance for us, please and thank you.” yn says softly, she loves monika but gosh does she love to tease yn.
“one of them is definitely dancing for you.” she teases again before shutting up and putting her attention towards the two girls in front of them.
yn felt monika side eyeing her the whole time as they watched the girls dance but she kept a poker face, there was no way she was letting a tall attractive girl get in her way of her being the “intimidating judge.” that she wanted to be.
even though her face and demeanour didn’t fit the part, yn was always pretty serious when it came to dance, she never even held back when it came to correcting her members, she was always stern and straightforward and yn was proud to say a dancer has never made her flustered or tripped up.
well…
not until now.
when the two girls finished dancing, everyone clapped and cheered for them, the judges stood up, monika making sure to grab yn’s arm pulling her to stand up with her as they clapped, as she cheered she leaned over to yn muttering a “your face is red.”
yn forced a smile as she clapped but her eyes told it all when she side eyed monika as they proceeded to sit back down.
yn zooned out for a little, her gaze set on the dancer in the racer jacket, but was snapped out of her daze, when she hears bada’s name being called and cheers filling her ears.
she nodded and smiled as her fellow judges talked and praised bada completely forgetting that she’s gonna have to talk soon.
as soon monika finished what she said she turned her attention to yn with a neutral look but yn could see the mischief in her eyes, monika nodded towards yn as a way of saying your turn making everyone else turn and look at the twice member.
yn looked ahead of herself making direct eye contact with the dancer before clearing her throat and looking back down at her lap and picking up her microphone, “hold on wait one sec.” she says making everyone laughs at her flustered state.
“you look a little red yn.” mike says pointing to yn’s face making everyone laugh even more, including the person who caused this whole thing.
yn shakes her head in embarrassment before bringing the mic to her lips, “bada..” she starts, “you stood out to me very fast.”
“I was like oh my gosh who’s this girl.” yn continues, finally having the confidence to keep her eye contact with the girl, “but now I definitely know who this girl is wow.” yn says brightly gesturing up and down with her hands at the dancer as bada bows at her.
“you’re already killing the game and showing people how much of a good dancer you are and I can’t wait to see more of you.” yn finishes smiling at bada who thanks her as everyone claps.
“wow! I’ve never seen you praise someone so much yn.” monika says shaking one of yn’s shoulders, it was both true and wrong, yn will praise anyone for doing the bare minimum when it comes to rapping and singing but with dance it takes the person a lot for her to be so praiseful.
“do you have a favourite already?” she jokes, laughing when yn rests her head on her mic as everyone once again laughs at her, she shakes her head when she feels mike pat her shoulder as a sense of comfort as he joins in on the laughs.
this is gonna be a long season.
yn walks through the hall her face deep in her phone as she texts nayeon ranting about how all her fellow judges embarrassed her today.
yn was to into her phone to realize the tall figure walking in front of her, but she’s hit with the harsh reality when she slams right into the dancers back.
yn tenses as she looks up from her phone, turning it off quickly before putting it away, “I’m so sorry”
the girl looked down at her brushing her apology off, “nah it’s okay.”
yn feels multiple buzzes from her phone and takes it out, “well, I’ll see you around.” she says quickly before walking past bada.
“whoa wait.” the taller girl said as she pulled yn back, “you seemed pretty flustered earlier.” she says to yn pulling the girl closer to her.
“I wouldn’t say flustered…” yn trails off looking into the side.
“umm” bada hums in faux understanding tone, “I’m a pretty big fan of twice you know?”
“oh, thank you.” yn says awkwardly.
“and I think it would be cool to hang out with my bias sometime.”
yn nods before shrugging her shoulders, “I don’t think I’m aloud to hang out with contestants, you never know what they’re really hanging out with you for.”
“nobody has to know.” bada says as she leans against the wall.
“sorry, I’m not the type to get in trouble.” yn says before turning around and proceeding to walk away.
she feels a presence walking behind and an arm thrown around her shoulder, “you know, I don’t appreciate my girlfriend rejecting me and acting like she doesn’t know me.” bada says teasingly as she looks down at yn and pulls her into her side.
yn laughs feeling her face heat up as she leans into the taller girls side, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“you’re not my girlfriend anymore? is this how you break up with me?” bada jokes as she takes arm from around yn and pretends to walk away.
yn laughs as she grabs the taller girls arm and pulls her back to her, “okay okay, im joking.” she says wrapping her arms around bada’s mid, “you did good today.”
“thank you.” bada replies putting her chin on top of yn’s head, “you coming to my place.”
“I’m meeting up with nayeon unnie.”
“then come over to night.”
“that’s what I was planning on.”
“good.”
#bada lee#bada lee x reader#street woman fighter 2#street woman fighter#twice#girl group imagines#fluff
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Okay, first of all, how are you? Hope you’re doing well! Drink plenty of water, stay hydrated- Second off, your Sunny fics? *chef’s kiss* so mainly, what if anybody made Sunny cry and Miguel had to find out about it? And Sunny’s trying not to make it seem like a big deal in order to keep Miguel from, you know, absolutely obliterating anyone.
Come on, Baby, Cry.
((Miguel O' Hara X Female! Reader))
A/N: Oh my goodness, thank you so much for the compliment. All my readers? *Extra chef's kisses* I am very hydrated and I got so excited to write this for you and to add some angsty content lol. I hope you enjoy this and let me know if you are disappointed or if you love it.
A/N: I also wanna address two things before I post this too. 1) thank you so much to the anon who asked me to include translations for the Spanish phrases as I was honestly not thinking about doing that. I will do better to include the translations at the end of the fics. 2) There are gonna be some triggering topics explored in this one-shot so if you don't want to hear about near injuries to children or child loss, then I understand if you don't want to read it. Feel free to enjoy my other fanfics and here's the post where you can stay notified on happier Sunny and Miggy fanfics.
Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is just their nickname, not their actual name.)), Female pronouns, PTSD, Mentions of Child Loss, Endangerment of a Child ((No children were actually hurt, just traumatized)), Trauma, Comforting, Fluff, Angry Miguel, and Google Translate Spanish.
The room fills with squeals and giggles as the chase between the chubby toddler and the jumping spider. Mayday swings her little self around the corridor as the young woman follows behind amused by how agile the little tyke was.
‘Maybe she’ll make a good sidekick in the future.’ The smiling woman muses in her mind before a bloody image flashes in her mind. Shaking her head, she clears the idea out of her mind as Mayday reaches an open window.
Her quick scream of horror as she accidentally swings herself out of the window causes the woman’s blood to run cold as she flings herself out of the window after her. “MAYDAY!”
The adrenaline coming from her heightened fear causes the whole thing to appear to be trapped in time as the spider woman falls with the screeching infant falling inches away. Tears clouded her vision as she shoots out her webbing to the pillars around them as the images of flames lick at her eyes.
So many flames, and too many buildings at once. Screams and pleas from below as she tries to be there. They didn’t matter to her, not at that moment. The only one who mattered was him. Did he scream like that too or did he not even feel it?
Using her webbing, she quickly creates a hammock for Mayday to fall on a few feet from the ground, thankfully trapping the wailing infant so she can’t escape. Unfortunately, reality doesn’t set in time for the spider as she slams into the titanium flooring below, knocking the air out of her lungs.
Many spidermen gathered as they heard the commotion, but she could only focus her blurry vision above her as she tries to regain her sight. A familiar blur of bright pink swings up and grabs the ball of ginger hair in a muddled mess of cries. He quickly drops down to where the disoriented woman was splayed out below with the whimpering infant in his arms.
“Hey, Sunny, you alright?” Peter calls his friend. The damage didn’t look bad from the outside, but he was sure she had some nasty concussion with how she was looking at him.
Hobie crouches down beside the crumbled girl and carefully lifts her head up with one hand. “Oi, Sunshine, you there?” He mutters as he looks into her eyes. He holds up his hand and makes three fingers pop up. “How many fingers do you see, love?”
With a cough, the woman croaks out, “Three?” Her eyes begin to focus as her enhanced healing works out the stars in her vision. With the help of Hobie and Peter, she stands up with a whimper at the feeling of her shattered ribs forming back together. “Damn, I forgot that falling several feet actually hurt.” She attempts to joke despite her wheezing breath. The crowd around them laughs as Peter sighs in relief.
“Thank god, you’re alright.” Peter mourns as a glint of regret shines in his eyes. “I’m sorry for all this, Sunny. I shouldn’t have let her bring the web shooter here. She almost swings herself out of the window all the time and MJ told me that one day I won’t be there to help the next time it happens.” Mayday’s cries end as she sees her favorite play partner up and well as she shows off her gummy smile.
“Well, luckily I was here to save the day.” The disoriented spider muses as she returns the infant’s smile as the men chuckle. The crowd dissipates leaving the injured spider with her two friends.
“I’m still really sorry, P. I got distracted and didn’t see that the window was open.” She winces as she blames herself for being so neglectful.
“Don’t sweat it, kid. This little rascal will probably send me to an early grave with all the mischief she causes.” Peter jokes as he tickles his now roaming daughter, chuckling at her excited squeals.
“Good thing you don’t have a kid, Sunny.” Hobie chuckles. “You would lose them in a heartbeat.”
The bright atmosphere shatters as the woman abruptly pulls away from her friends. The men look at her confused until they saw the look in her eyes. The normal warm and inviting gaze that they all thrived under was gone, only a dark void was staring back at them. Their light now shining in hurt and sadness as memories cloud her mind. Her lip trembles in a tight line as tears begin to roll down her face.
Hobie looks confused at the sudden shift, but Peter realizes something as he looked at his trembling friend. Her eyes burned with tears as they locked with his. She had a haunted look about her. It's a look only parents can ever understand and fear. The look Peter himself almost experienced.
“Hey,(y-” Before Peter can comfort her, she activates her mask and turns invisible before running off, her muffled sobs leaving them speechless.
Hobie groans as he realizes two things. One, he just made the sweetest person in the world cry. And Two,...
Miguel is gonna kill him.
~~~~~~~
The warm glow of the portal illuminates the surveillance room as the blue spider steps out covered in a musty yellow goo. Lyla smirks as she observes the little chucks slipping onto the ground as Miguel attempts to dust off the slime from his large shoulders.
“Was your mission successful, boss?” The assistant snarks as she sends out a little robot to follow the annoyed Spiderman. The little bug-like contraption eagerly swallows up the disgusting mess Miguel left as he walks up to the platform.
“The anomaly was captured and disposed of. Next time, warn me if William Baker is made of anything except sand.” He grumbles as the sound of the little robot annoyed him even more.
“I’ll make a note of that.” The AI giggles as she downloads the mission info from Miguel’s gizmo. “Also ‘Miss Sunshine’ is here and she doesn’t seem too happy.” She says before fading out.
Miguel’s eyes widen upon hearing that his sunny partner was upset. She was never upset. Never. With concern eating away at him, Miguel shoots out a web and swings himself to the platform above. He lands softly as he sees the scene in front of him.
His sunshine sat in his usual seat in front of the monitor. Her costume was dirty with a chest compression brace wrapped around her ribs as her choked sobs wheeze out of her. Her mask was off as her head rested against the ice pack in her hand, her back leaned forward as her attention was focused on the image before her.
He already knew what was on the screen.
He knew that file name by heart just like how he knows Gabriella’s.
File SW-0001425
World 16457-0
Spider-Woman- (Y/N) (L/N)
Age of infection- 23
Occupation- Intern Medical Research Assistant in the Genetics Department of { REDACTED } working under Dr. {REDACTED}
Sacrifice: Ben (L/N), age 4, Son of (Y/N) (L/N), 1 year into being Spiderwoman
Cause of death: Blunt Force trauma and Smoke inhalation caused by a multi-location attack caused by { REDACTED}
Status of Universe: DESTROYED
On the screen, the laughing face of a younger Sunny shines as a chubby cheek of a baby boy with dark curls smooshes into hers. The faint sound of a child mimicking the smooch of a kiss can be heard as the overexaggerated gasp of the woman causes the toddler to squeal. “That was such a sweet kiss, Benny. Can mommy have another one?” The sweet voice soured the air as the sobbing woman mournfully watches her baby boy.
The baby she failed.
Miguel approaches behind her and slowly takes the mouse from her weak grasp. The broken woman sighs as she realizes her miggy is here with her now, but doesn’t turn to look at him as he pauses the video. Her baby’s matching eyes stare right back at her before Miguel turns the chair around to face him as his mask disintegrates. His eyes glow red under the light of the monitors as he searched her sore eyes. Her face was red with a noticeable bruise along the left side of her face. Tears and snot crusted over her soft features as her lips remained turned into a trembling whisper. Her pupil shone in self-loathing and searching for his comfort. He could tell that this episode isn’t just one of her low days, something happened.
Something happened and he wasn’t here to stop it.
Miguel closes his eyes as his hand caresses her cheek. The warmth of her flushing face nuzzling into his palm allowed him to ground his rage as he focuses his gaze back onto his beloved.
“Mi luz, ¿qué pasó?” He seethes as he looks deep into her eyes.
She shakes her head as she tries to avoid looking into his concerned ruby gaze. The glass bridge was already cracked as she internally debated with sobbing everything that happened into his warm embrace or to protect her friend from the wrath she knows Miguel will unleash if he knows what was said. The warmth of his other palm cupping her cheek, guiding her to a wandering eye to look at his frowning face nearly broke her.
“It was nothing, Miggy…”She whispered as her voice trembled again. She tried to control her eyes from unknowingly confessing while she tries to bite the wobbling pout. “It was an accident…”
“What.” Miguel runs his thumb under her abused mouth as a piece of her disheveled hair was swept back. “Happened?” His demand is punctuated as he holds her in his stare. His eyes burned with barely contained fury and protectiveness as he studied her reactions. “Odio verte como la suya, mi amor.” He admits with a sigh.
Leaning forward, Miguel places a firm kiss on her forehead as his beloved’s breath shudders at his touch. The gentle heat under his touch left her trembling as the glass began to crack. “Let me ease your pain…” He whispers as he trails his kisses down to her eyelids. “These eyes are meant to be filled with happiness, not sorrow…” The cracks deepen as he gently kisses her nose. “I can’t undo what has happened…” The corners of her lips were caressed by his as his nose brushed against her cheeks causing her eyes to meet his mirrors. Her sorrow and helplessness are reflected in his ruby eyes as he kneels on the ground between her legs. A silent plea breaks the resolve she built as he mutters into her ear.
“Please, mi sol, at least let me feel your pain too…It's me and you against the universe remember…Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo.” He begs as the tension shatters.
With her arms snaking around his shoulders, the little spider confesses all that happened hours prior into his ear. Each detail, each scar, burned into his mind as she clung to his neck and hair. His inferno of rage almost imploded until he looked back into her eyes again. The relief of letting go of all of her troubles made her face look years younger as she looked at him with her big vulnerable eyes.
Hobie will have to wait. His love needed him now.
In a silent nod, Miguel wrapped her weak legs around his waist before he stood up. Feeling her snuggling into his throat, he carries her toward her room down the hallway while the annoying robot follows them to clean up the mess. As he enters the room, he releases some of his anger by smashing the bug with his foot.
“What was that, Miggy?” She croaks as she weakly tries to look over his shoulder.
“Just a bug,” He sighs as he approaches her dresser and grabs his spare set of clothes from his drawer. “You want your clothes or mine?”
“Yours…” She shyly admits as he feels the heat returning to the cheek on his neck.
“Muy bien, niña bonita. Lo que quieras.” He whispers as he grabs another set of clothes that he knows will swallow her. With that, he carries them into her personal bathroom and spent the night slowly bringing back his sunshine.
~~~~~~~~
A deep scream rings out through the Lobby as they see a flash of blue fury tackles the residential metal head into the ground. Peter hurries to save his colleague along with a few other Spidermen as Mayday laughs at the anarchist getting thrashed by the clawed man spewing Hispanic curses at him.
~~~~~~~~~
Translations:
Mi luz, ¿qué pasó? - My light, what happened?
mi sol - my sun
Por favor no me dejes solo ... No quiero perderte de nuevo. -Please don't leave me alone...I don't want to lose you again
~~~~~~~
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#spiderman#miguel o’hara x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman across the spiderverse#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#spiderman into the spiderverse#into the spider verse#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara#spiderman fanfiction#spiderman fandom
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Teacher - Chapter II
Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!reader
Summary: You get invited to Frank's apartment again days after he gave you your first kiss. After a long makeout session, you rush to get to the bonfire and enjoy a night with your group of friends and even more of Frank's company
Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), cursing, drinking, dry humping, brief mentions of masturbation
Author's Note: It's finally here! I'm SO so sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've been working full time at my part time job and it's been crazy busy!! Thank you for being patient :) Oh! We have a taglist now, so if you want to be added, just let me know! As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!
Word Count: 6.6k+
Previous Chapters: I
Ever since that afternoon when Frank gave you your first kiss, it’s all that’s consumed your mind. It’s been difficult to focus your attention anywhere that isn’t the image of his puffy lips, swollen from your kisses, that has been ingrained in your head. You’ve been spacing out more often—even softly tracing your lower lip with your finger to try and relive the memory of his tongue brushing your skin.
You’ve even let your mind wander off its leash at work. Your coworker rips you from your thoughts by calling your name and you look up with wide eyes. She smirks when she sees your frazzled expression and asks what’s on your mind. You flip through excuses in your brain before stumbling out an “It’s a good day?”
Your voice twists into a question at the end, obvious that even you weren’t sold on your words. She shoots a skeptical look your way before walking away from the front desk, leaving you to sit once again in your thoughts about Frank. Beams of sunlight pour through the glass windows at the front of the building and the heat on your face reminds you of his warm touch. You let your eyes close for a moment and you swear you can feel his long fingers curling behind your jaw.
Suddenly, a chime sounds out and your eyes shoot open, quickly facing the front door as you expect to be met with a client’s face. There’s not a single person in sight though, and you glance down at your phone and see its illuminated screen. There’s an alert on the display and as you pick it up to unlock it, you notice it’s from your close friend.
“I’m picking you up at 6 right?”
Your eyebrows pull together, trying to remember the topic of the conversation that she’s starting back up again. As your eyes scan the earlier messages on the screen, it clicks for you. The bonfire.
Every few weeks your friend group makes plans to go out and do something fun together. With busy lives and conflicting schedules, not to mention the range of ages, it’s not always easy to reconnect and make time to be with each other. But months ago there was a collective agreement to make the effort of seeing one another more often than not. It was something you loved, being able to be in the good company of everyone you cared for.
Admittedly, your favorite part of the group hangout was watching as the rest of them enjoyed themselves. Smiles thrown on their faces, laughter roaring out when someone cracks a joke, even comfortable silences—it brought you so much joy to witness. However, due to your more reserved nature and how you passed on drinking each time, you felt more like a bystander; always watching them let loose and wishing you could do the same.
“Yes pleaseee”, your thumbs press on the glass, typing out the message on the digital keys. As you hit the arrow to send the text, another message shows as a banner across the top of the screen.
“You wanna come over?”
It’s from Frank this time. Sinking your teeth into your lip in an attempt to stall your smile, you glance at the clock on the wall. Unfortunately, no amount of wishing makes the thin, red hand pass the black numbers any faster. With a quiet sigh, you begin to type another text.
“I get off in an hour. You’re still going to the bonfire tonight right?”
You anxiously tap your finger along the side of your phone, watching the little bubbles move as an indicator that he’s typing. Frank was the main reason you went to these monthly bonfires, and the idea of him not showing is certainly enough to make you consider twice about going.
“Yeah. Just wanted to see you before then.”
As if right on cue, your heartbeat speeds up when your eyes scan across his words. You don’t even try to fight the grin that grows on your face this time. It’s only been a few days since you last saw him, since your last kiss, but you’ve been texting him each day in between. The conversations have always been light, slightly flirty on his end, but you’re thankful Frank never pressures you to do anything.
Oftentimes you find yourself still in disbelief at how this all happened. Frank’s incredibly patient with you and has reassured you many times that this is all your choice. Hell, he hasn’t even asked for you to come over again until just now. Maybe he was trying to keep the distance to not overwhelm you?
But he does want to see me, the giddy, although nagging, little voice in your head reminds you. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts, you sigh gently before texting him that you’ll drive over to his apartment after you get off. He replies back almost instantly.
“Can’t wait.”
You force yourself to drop your phone and not reread his message multiple times. It wasn’t a habit you normally had, but it became ever so prevalent with his messages. You pictured what other thoughts could be behind his often short texts and that wasn’t particularly helpful while you’re still on the clock.
The minutes felt like centuries as you sat at the desk. No amount of phone calls from curious customers or coworker gossip could act as a catalyst and make the time pass faster. You almost feel bad for being mentally checked out, but with something as good as this planned after you left, you really couldn’t help it. With your chin in your hand as you barely hold yourself up, you take one last hesitant glance at the clock. Two minutes left.
The second the time flips to the nearest hour, you’re clocking out; you’re thankful it was a slow day and you could leave right on time. With a shout over your shoulder and a wave goodbye to your coworker, you walk out the door and straight to your car. You don’t even put the GPS on–you have the way to his house memorized after the last time–and put on your favorite playlist to get yourself excited once again to see him.
Thankfully, the traffic isn’t too bad and it’s not long before you’re making the first turn into the neighborhood. You turn on each familiar street, winding the curves before you spot the black van with an empty parking space beside it once again. There’s no anxiety this time as you put the car in park, just excitement bubbling up and making your chest grow warm. You’re quick to grab your bag and rush up to the wooden door as you lock the car behind you.
You raise your hand and swiftly knock an upbeat tune on the door. It opens only a few seconds later, and there’s a strong arm winding around you as it pulls you past the door frame. A surprised yelp escapes you and his raspy voice sounds out with an apology.
“Sorry, kid, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He closes the door behind you before walking towards the couch. The room’s not quite as spotless as it was last time but it honestly makes it feel more cozy seeing as it’s been lived in. He motions for you to follow him to sit down and this time you make sure to sit right beside him.
He asks about your day and the two of you begin a light conversation. It feels like he really listens to you; he’s nodding his head as you speak, leaning slightly towards you, and for once you feel like you’re being truly heard. After some back and forth, Frank begins to talk more as something you say sparks up a memory in his mind. He’s excited to tell you, obvious from how he sits up with a wide smile, and you listen to him as he gives you some background information that’s necessary to understand the story.
If you’re honest, you’re not really sure you’re keeping up with the whole picture he’s trying to paint you. You couldn’t really help it, memories of the only other time you were here beginning to rush through your brain. His laughter sounds out, breaking your concentration of the memory, and you try your hardest to focus back on him. Frank’s so animated when he talks: his hands moving in front of him, his facial features physically showing how he felt, and let’s not forget the voices of his friends that he puts on to get a smile out of you.
But eventually his words continue to drone on and on and you’re beginning to lose interest. It's no fault of his own, you just can’t focus on anything other than his mouth. The meaning of his words dissipate until they’re simply just noise to fill the background. Your eyes never leave his lips, watching as they curl around the words or stretch into a smile as he laughs. Before you can even think through the consequences of your actions, you lean forward and place a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.
His words stop abruptly and you watch as he turns his head to face you. There’s a short pause before he’s got his arms wrapped around you, immediately pulling you into his lap. You settle on your knees, straddling his thighs, and he tugs you even closer until you’re sitting right between his legs.
“Did you hear anything I was saying?” he asks, tilting his head as he stares up into your eyes. His gaze is too intense and you find yourself focusing on his lips instead. “You hear a single word or… did some kind of switch flip just then?” He squints his eyes as he asks, his tongue brushing over his lips.
“I just… I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” you confess in a small voice.
“That is just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. You know that?” And queue the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Got any idea how sweet you sound?”
“Frank, c’mon,” you whisper, growing tired of his teasing.
“What, sweetheart? You wanna say somethin’ like that and not expect me to talk about it?” Again, you wish he would just shut up and kiss you already. “I’ve been on your mind that much? Must’ve been a damn good kiss for you to think about it days later, huh? Did you miss—”
You cut him off once more with your lips, your hands cradling his cheeks as you kiss him. You can’t even believe you did it, you never thought yourself the one to make the first move. Being desperate for his kisses is enough for the final push, you guess. His hands are quick to find your hips and you shiver at the touch, cursing yourself for being so sensitive. He pulls away when he feels your body’s reaction but never takes his hands off of you.
“That okay?” he asks, his eyes glancing up into yours. He gives another swift squeeze into your side before questioning with another “hmm?” You nod quickly, still reeling from the feel of him touching you there. Frank only tilts his head, silently requesting more from you.
“Y-Yes,” you stutter out, and he mutters the quietest, “Okay,” you’ve ever heard. His hand that’s wrapped around your hip begins to push you back and you’re quick to move with his movements. It’s a gentle push that has your ass grinding down onto the center of his jeans and you quickly grab hold of his shoulder to keep your balance.
“You okay?” he asks through a light chuckle. You nod and hum an agreement as you focus back on his warm touch that’s setting a fire alight on your side. He pulls you closer now and begins rocking you back and forth on his lap. The heat begins to travel down your tummy and nestles between your thighs.
Suddenly, Frank’s mouth is on your neck again and you almost feel lightheaded with how your body is trying to take in so much of him at once. He drags his kisses down your jaw, his hand never stopping the gentle pull and push of your hips. As you keep rocking on him, you swear you feel something bumping into you on each push down but you’re not very certain of anything at the moment.
His unoccupied hand smoothes up your side and his big palm grabs at your chest. A small moan gets stuck in your throat, resulting in a quiet whimper, as his long fingers squeeze into your soft skin. You break the kiss, your arms crossing each other as you reach for the hem of your shirt but his hands tenderly grab your wrists.
“You don’t have to…” he breathes shallowly, his breath fanning across your lips. His gaze locks with yours before he swallows thickly. He closes his eyes as he continues, “I’m sorry. I-I just got caught up in it.” You smile at the hesitancy in his voice and brush your thumb along his jaw.
“It’s okay, Frank, I wanna,” you reassure him. He loosens his hold, allowing you to continue your movements and pull your top off. His eyes move up with each new inch of skin that gets exposed and there’s this look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Once your head is clear of the fabric, you drop it onto the empty couch cushion beside you before moving to cup his cheeks in your smaller hands.
His lips are parted as he stares unabashedly at your chest. Brushing your thumb over the light stubble, you watch as he takes you in for the first time. Part of you is somewhat worried about his reaction, but his kisses were enough to leave your head clouded for long enough to push the anxiety away.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” is all he mutters before his hand pushes through your hair and he cups the back of your head. He pulls you into another kiss, his tongue wasting no time as it glides along yours. You moan against him sweetly as he lightly pulls on the strands. The sound must’ve spurred him on though, because he squeezes you over your bra once more. His insatiable fingers continue and your chest threatens to spill over the fabric cups.
You bring your hand over his and he immediately lets go of you. You shake your head with a grin, letting him know he didn’t cross any lines. Rather, you press on his fingers and make him hold you even tighter. He sighs into the kiss and digs harder into your smooth skin. Wanting to mimic him and clutch onto as much of him as possible, you push your palms flat to his chest and work them up towards his neck. You don’t even register the way you’re tugging at the neckline of his shirt until your thoughts slip and you mumble something against his lips.
“What was that?” Frank asks as he trails a finger down your cheek.
“Can… Can you take yours off too, please?” Your words come out as a whisper, your nerves acting up at the idea of asking that of him. He only smirks up at you before adjusting himself to sit up more against the couch.
“Guess that’s only fair, huh?” You watch as his hands come to the back of his neck, arms flexing as he pulls the shirt over his head and haphazardly drops it beside yours. When you see him shirtless for the first time, you’re pretty sure any thought you had–and ever will have–leaves your mind. Thick muscle wrapped in tan skin, broad shoulders that you’re certain would engulf you whole, and dark hair lining the skin under his belly button that trails below the waistband of his jeans.
“You alright there, kid?” he questions through a raspy chuckle. You hesitantly reach a hand out and lightly rest it over his heart. His chest is big and he fills your palm as his heart beats against your skin. You force your eyes to focus on his face again and he meets you with a confident smirk.
“You still with me?” His words are laced with a cocky tone and you don’t even give him the satisfaction of shrinking down again. Instead, you lean forward and wrap your fingers around his neck before kissing him harder than you ever have before. He grunts against your lips, his own hips bucking up as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.
His hand wraps around to hold your lower back as he continues guiding your movements. With each roll of your hips into his lap, you feel his bulge against you. A wet gasp escapes you when you bump your clit on one particularly hard grind against him.
He feels harder underneath you each time you move, and it dawns on you what it actually means. He’s getting hard? Over me? The ever present voice sounds out again, words soaked in disbelief. Feeling more confident, you begin to buck your hips on your own as you grind faster against him.
“Attagirl,” he praises, the kiss breaking once again due to his wide smile. He encourages your movements with one little word and his hand stops the push and pull, letting you move independently from him. He grazes his long fingers up your thighs before curling around, sliding his palms higher, and holding your ass in his big hands. Frank tilts his head to the side as he deepens the kiss and you feel the stubble scratching you, causing your hips to speed up of their own accord.
His bulge between your legs is warm–and admittedly thicker than you expected–which does nothing to help the burning at the pit of your stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before and Frank’s lips begin to wander, trailing down your neck. His teeth graze along your collarbone and your hands find their way to his hair. Brushing through the strands with a gentle pull at the ends, you push yourself harder into his lap.
He grunts before pressing his tongue flat to your skin, slowly licking his way up your throat and back to your lips. A curse slips from you and you shudder when you feel the cool air hit the wet patch he left behind. Cupping your cheeks in his large palms, he traces his tongue over your bottom lip before sinking his teeth into the soft skin. You whimper louder than you mean to, the sound causing Frank to tilt his head down and break the kiss. His forehead rests against yours as he pants gently, regaining his breath.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, dragging the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. You giggle at his exasperated tone from the makeout session and rub your hands down his neck to his shoulder blades. The muscle is noticeable despite him not flexing and your mind starts down a path that you’re certain would do no good right now. Images begin to flash through your mind: Frank on top of you, your nails scratching down his back, his fingers tightening around a headboard. You give yourself a mental shake and bring yourself back to the present.
“What time is it?” you ask softly. Frank raises his arm up, checking the little display of his watch. Once you catch a glimpse of the digital numbers, you perk up as your eyes go wide.
“Shit, I gotta go,” Frank looks up at you confusedly as you speak. “The bonfire…” you trail off, hoping to jog his memory.
“What? No, you just got here, c’mon,” he groans. His arms wrap around your back and he tightens his hold while resting his head against your chest. With a wide smile, you brush your palms against the short hair at the back of his head.
“Frank, I’ve been here almost an hour,” you explain through a chuckle. He hesitantly looks up at you, his eyebrows pulled together and confusion clearly written all over his face.
“Really? I didn’t even notice…”
“Spent all that time when I first got here just talking. It’s your fault!” You tease him and his features soften.
“Well how was I supposed to know I had all this waiting for me if I shut up?” He pulls you snuggly towards his body and you feel the heat coming back to your cheeks. You shake your head when he drapes your arm back around his neck, his charm threatening to work on you once again.
“I gotta get ready,” you explain but make absolutely no attempt to leave your spot on his lap.
“Do you have to? You look great just like this,” his fingers idly move up and down your thighs. You find his little touches comforting and the butterflies flutter to life at his soft spoken compliment.
“My hair is a complete mess, thanks to you,” you scoff, “and I need to change.” You’re still in your outfit from work and want to wear something more comfortable, and warm, for tonight’s get together. Frank pouts as you speak but begrudgingly lets go of you, his hand keeping a hold of yours as you stand. You reach for your shirt and quickly pull it back on over your head and there’s a great, big sigh coming from him once your chest is covered.
Rolling your eyes at his theatrics, you run a hand through your hair in an attempt to look halfway decent. Turning to say one last thing before you leave, there’s a sight that makes your eyes widen as a chill rushes through you. Your hands clasp together over your mouth as you gasp, embarrassment settling in. Frank looks up cluessely at you, until he follows your gaze to his lap.
There’s a damp spot on his jeans, almost unnoticeable against the dark denim, but it’s clear what it is nonetheless.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t think I’d—I’m sorry,” you swallow thickly, trying to find anything to say to fill the silence. He’s hardly moved since he first glared down at the stain on his pants; his chest heaving and jaw clenching as he takes in the sight in front of him. The air is so thick you think for half a second you might actually choke on it. The next thing you see is the bulge in his jeans twitching to the side faintly.
You feel as though you might double over and grab your stomach for balance. “Frank?” you ask gently, but he continues to breathe roughly. You can’t even possibly begin to decipher what’s going on inside his head.
“Don’t ever gotta apologize for that,” he finally speaks up. His voice is gravelly and his jaw is clenched. He takes a long inhale and you can see him physically shake off the tension. “But yeah, you… You should probably change.” His normal cocky smirk is back in place and you smile, relieved.
Leaning over him, you press a brisk kiss to his cheek as a goodbye. You mutter one last apology against his skin before slipping out the door and shouting a farewell over your shoulder.
The entire car ride home you feel your skin buzzing. You’ve never felt so giddy in your life and you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to keep this excitement to yourself. Part of you wants to scream out from the rooftops just to let the energy out but you also haven’t exactly talked with Frank about if this is something to share outside the two of you.
The ride home is a total blur and before you know it you’re pulling into your spot at your apartment. Dropping your bag by the door, you make your way straight to the bathroom. After accessing the damage that Frank left with his greedy touch, you quickly begin to try and make yourself look slightly presentable.
Surprisingly, you’re almost ready when your friend sends the message to inform you that she’s arrived at your place. All you’re missing is socks, shoes, and jacket, which by your standards, is pretty good. You brush your fingers through your hair one more time, trying to get it to lie a bit neater. With one last glance over in the mirror, you shrug and decide it’s good enough given the time crunch.
Shoving your shoes on and rushing out the door with your jacket folded over your arm, you reach her car door and climb in. She begins to drive down the street, turning down familiar roads to the place where you usually gather for this sort of thing. She fills the car ride with her stories all about her day, her rude coworker, and the new guy she’s seeing. You nearly speak up when she gets to that last topic of conversation. It would be nice to finally be able to relate to something, but you know that what you and Frank have isn’t even serious. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you bite your tongue and keep quiet.
The sound of gravel crunching under the tires reaches your ears and you perk up when you realize you’re finally here. After closing the car door and walking up to the fire pit, you notice your other friends already gathered around it. They greet the two of you kindly and pull you into hugs. You smile through the welcoming and scan their faces to check for Frank, but he’s not there.
Minutes pass and you find yourself pulling your phone out of your pocket to check the time every now and then. You watch as the sunset sinks below the horizon. It paints the sky a dusty orange before mixing and settling into soft pastel streaks of light. You’ve been here over half an hour and still there’s no sign of him. You get the courage to speak up and ask about him.
“Is Frank coming? I know he’s not usually on time but…” There’s a small chuckle sounding out from someone already a few drinks in.
“He texted me saying he forgot it was tonight. Should be here soon,” one of Frank’s closer friends, Curtis, replies to you. That’s weird, you think as you pout and wrap your arms around yourself. You wonder why he gave that excuse and what must’ve come up to deter him from getting here. It does little use, but you try to shake off the worry and focus on being in the company of the people you love.
You’re laughing loudly at a joke when you hear some light cheers and quickly turn around at the sound. Frank’s walking up slowly, shaking his head as the small group rags on him for being late. He scoffs, scratching at the back of his neck before being pulled into a few hugs by his friends. You’d give anything to rush over and pull him into an embrace as well, but you decide to not just run with your emotions.
Once Frank is sitting back in an old lawn chair and everyone is officially accounted for, Curtis lights the fire. It’s tradition to wait until everybody is together before setting the wood alight. There’s a moment of quiet crackling but before long the flames are roaring to life. You’re the first to walk up to it, stretching your arms out and melting at the warmth enveloping you when suddenly, there’s a nagging feeling in your head and you look over your shoulder to satisfy the small itch.
Frank’s eyes are glaring into your side, his expression hard and difficult to pinpoint. He’s holding his chin up in his hand and his eyes slowly begin to rake down your frame before shooting back up to your face. The lights and shadows from the flames dance across his features and you swear you notice his nose scrunch up for a second when his teeth sink into his lower lip.
A shiver runs down your neck and it’s not born from excitement like before. He looks absolutely pissed and you force yourself to look back at the charred wood. It could have absolutely nothing to do with you, you try to reason with yourself. But you’ve always been one to look for a flaw in yourself when someone’s upset, and no amount of logic can take away that instinct reaction.
The only thing you can think of is the mess you unintentionally left on him. He seemed okay when you left, but maybe that really bothered him. Whatever it was, he was definitely more cold than he was just hours ago and you wish he’d stop staring and talk to you already.
You plaster on a fake smile when your friend asks what’s wrong and insist that you’re fine. You mutter some excuse about the air being chilly and she finds a spare blanket to wrap you up in. When you steal a glance at Frank, you notice him acting in complete opposite of how he was moments before. He’s back to all smiles, holding his chest as he throws his head back laughing. You feel some of your own tension leaving at the sound of his cackling but you can’t help but wonder why that cold gaze was directed towards you.
The sky eventually begins to settle into the comforting deep blue and the fire shows no signs of dying out. You notice the cooler of beer sitting open and decide to walk over and grab one. Glancing down at the label, you notice it’s not the one Frank introduced you to. With a mental shrug you crack it open and toss it back without thinking. The flavor hits your tongue and it surprises you how much smoother it is than your first drink.
You get lost in the overlapping chatter of conversations and begin drinking more now that you’ve found a taste that’s enjoyable. The time passes and you slowly feel yourself relaxing more as the weight of the bottle in your hand gets lighter. It’s not enough to make you feel without control of your actions, but it definitely is enough to give you a buzz.
Eventually the chill of the night breeze picks up, and you begin to notice some people cuddling up to their partners. A few cuddle on a picnic blanket lying on the ground, some sit in each other’s laps. Regardless, you feel that uneasy sensation of being a spectator rising up again. You fidget with the bottle in your hand as you try and not compare yourself to the other couples when the sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up.
Frank is sitting in his chair like before but this time his legs are spread wide apart. You lock eyes with him and he glances at his lap before looking back to your face. He runs a large hand down the length of his thigh, smoothing the fabric of his jeans, and it seems as though he’s presenting you a seat. You swallow thickly and make your way over to him, standing right at his knees.
“C’mon, it’s too cold,” he mumbles under the background noise of layered voices. You nod as he takes your hand, leading you to sit down on his legs. He’s quickly adjusting the blanket and draping it back over your shoulders before pulling your side into his chest. Your head aligns perfectly in the crevice of his collarbone and his body heat completely engulfs you. To say you’re happy you get to be close to him would be an understatement; you’ve been waiting for this all night but not sure if he’d make the move with an audience.
Each time he speaks, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek. His beating heart sounds out against your ear and you feel his fingers rubbing over your back. The warmth of his thick thighs underneath you remind you yet again of what occurred just a short while ago. You nuzzle your face into his shirt to hide from the thoughts consuming your mind, and he just continues talking while brushing over your side. Raising the bottle to your lips, you take another swig and swallow it down with a hum. Frank looks down at you and watches as you sit up higher against his chest to speak to him.
“Whatever’s in this is waaaaay better than what you gave me,” you whisper into his ear. Your voice isn’t slurred but it’s uneven in pitch, and he snorts–you’re pretty sure that’s your new favorite sound–before nodding.
“I’ll make sure to remember that, sweetheart.” His mouth is near your jaw and the breath fans over your neck. He didn’t even say anything sexual but that all-too-familiar warmth comes to life in the pit of your stomach again.
“Can I tell you something?” you ask in a quiet voice.
“Hmm?” His eyes never leave your lips.
“I missed you,” you confess. His lips spread into a wide smirk and you continue. “I know it’s stupid cause I literally just saw you but…” you trail off, staring down at your legs draped across his. “I got a little lonely when you didn’t show.”
“Yeah, about that…” He chuckles dryly and looks away from you.
“What?”
“Let’s just say that, uh, the problem you left on my jeans was the reason I was late.” He turns his head in the direction of the tall flames and his words slowly sink into your mind. Heat rushes to your cheeks and your stomach does a cartwheel as new images flash in your mind: Frank’s long fingers working the button of his jeans open, his fingers curled around his cock, head tilted back as moans fall freely from his mouth.
There has to be a work stronger than mortified to describe how you feel right now. You still can’t believe you did that earlier and now paired with his confession? You wouldn’t be surprised if you melted into a puddle of your own embarrassment and slipped away. That also explains that his look from earlier wasn’t anger, but something much deeper and faceted.
“What’s wrong, kid?” He must’ve noticed you tensing up in his hold.
“You shouldn’t have told me that,” you mutter. You’re almost certain you haven’t blinked since he told you. Frank bursts into loud laughter, causing a few others to look over at the sound. You can’t handle the new pairs of eyes on you and you wrap the blanket around you tighter as you turn away from their curious expressions.
The night grows colder as the hours pass and you don’t even realize that the flames have died down until a few people begin to stand up and stretch, saying they’ve got to head home. You sit up and rub at your eyes, blinking slowly at the few empty chairs and people waving goodbye.
“You okay if I drop you home?” Frank speaks up as he watches you pull yourself back together.
“Are you sure? Didn’t you have some drinks?” you ask through a yawn, your eyes scrunching closed.
“Nah, saw you drinkin’ when I walked up. Just had water tonight,” he explains.
He helps you stand up, saying your collective goodbyes to the group, before walking you to his black van. You watch as he walks around to the passenger side, opening the door for you and making sure your seatbelt is buckled before dropping the blanket back in your lap. You’ve never had someone take care of you like this and you have to convince yourself he’s just being a friend to not put more emotions in his kind gestures.
You mumble directions to him as he drives, sneaking glances at his profile as he stares out at the open roads. The lights from the lampposts shine through the window, the shadows dragging across his features as he taps his fingers along to a song playing faintly on the radio. He engages the clutch as he brings the car out of gear, coasting to a red light.
“I have another question,” you say in a raspy tone. It’s the one thing about tonight you still can’t figure out.
“Sure are full of ‘em tonight,” he jokes as he turns to face you.
“The thing you said earlier, about why you were late?” you don’t dare to actually say it aloud. “I left a few hours before the fire started.” Frank shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as he stares at the scarlet glow of the traffic light.
“Tried a cold shower, sweetheart. Didn’t work,” he says simply. You don’t even say anything in response, just turn away from him and look out your window to avoid an even more awkward conversation. His chuckle sounds out in the small cabin of the van and you hate how your pulse speeds up.
“Just another left here,” you say after a while, directing him to turn into the neighborhood of your apartment. He parks along the curb with a clear view of your front door. The night is officially over and you want literally any excuse not to get out of this close space with him.
“Can I kiss you?” you ask in a small whisper.
“You don’t ever have to ask me that, kid.” You’re quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning over and brushing your lips over his. Pausing for a second, you try to memorize the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips, before delaying the tease and pushing your mouth against his. He kisses back instantly and you suck his lower lip past your own. A not so stifled grunt escapes him and you smile knowing you can get to him in the same way he gets to you. You break the kiss and work your mouth down his chin and the underside of his jaw. He sighs heavily and suddenly places his big palm to your cheek, gently raising your face away from his throat.
“I can’t let you go any further,” he stares down at you. You sigh frustratedly between your teeth before sitting up with a groan. You pout at him and stare back at his lips, cursing the fact that you drank tonight.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s late, you should head inside,” he nods towards the direction of your door. You hesitantly get out and drag your feet as you walk towards the small porch light. You unlock the door and look over your shoulder to see his van still parked. It isn’t until you step inside and shut the door that you hear the motor rev as he drives off.
You stumble into your apartment, brushing your hand against the wall until you miraculously flip the light switch on. You squint your eyes as you flinch away from the bright light and shuffle your feet forward down the hallway that leads to your bedroom. As you empty your pockets and drop your bag to the floor, you make your way towards the connecting bathroom.
Another yawn overcomes you as you struggle with taking your top off, your head getting lost in the mess of fabric. The jeans come off next and you try your hardest to hold onto the countertop before inevitably losing your balance as you try to pull your feet through the cuffs at the end of your pants. You try to breeze through your routine of getting ready for the night and eventually you're sinking into the soft mattress of your bed.
Three consecutive buzzes sound out as your phone vibrates on your nightstand, the display shining in the dark bedroom. You reach for it blindly and see text messages from your friend that drove you tonight.
“Did you get home okay?”
“Since when do you drink?”
“Also what is with you and Frank?” Oh no. A fourth one comes in as your phone vibrates in your hand.
“You have to tell me everything!”
Taglist: @chellestrash @suitsofwo3 @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl
#6K ON A CHAPTER WHAT?! i've never written this much at once!! take this as my gift for taking so long!!#frank castle x reader#frank castle smut#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle fic#jon bernthal fanfiction#jon bernthal fic#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher fanfic#chelsea writes
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hi, love! just wanna say first of all that i love your writing and your account. keep up the good work!
second of all, i was wondering if i could put in a sort of specific request? i'm currently on my period and the bloating is making me feel really bad about my body ☹️ so i was hoping maybe you could write a fic where Steve comforts Reader when she's going through something like that?
feel free to disregard this if it's too heavy of a topic, i know it can be triggering to talk about things like this for some people.
wishing you all the best! 🫶🏻
- @honeysuckleharringtons 🍯💛
Thanks so much babe!
cw: period cramps, insecurities arounds stomach/bloating
Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 861 words
You think your favorite place has to be lying between Steve’s legs, with one of his hands clasped in yours and the other on your boob. If you focus really hard, you can feel his heart beating underneath your ear. You’re watching some mindless sitcom, trying to distract yourself from this blessedly mild round of cramps and silently debating whether having chocolate ice cream is worth getting up and going to the store to get it. But if Steve keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand like this, you might melt right into the couch and then the decision would be made for you.
It happens so gradually you almost don’t even notice. Steve knows to be gentle with you when you’re sensitive like this, his hand massaging the fat of your boob gently before grazing lower to rub at the skin just beneath it. Then it goes lower still, and you tense when he dips under the hem of your shirt and takes a handful of your stomach in his grasp.
Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice that you’ve stopped breathing, kneading at the supple chub of your middle absentmindedly, but you lower your hand to his, bringing it back up into comfortable territory. Then he looks at you, a questioning glance out of the corner of his eye. You pretend not to see. His hand drifts slowly, tentatively, back towards your stomach.
“Don’t,” you say softly, taking it again before it can get there. It’s not a reprimand so much as a gentle request, but still, Steve’s eyebrows furrow.
“What’s the deal?” he asks, echoing your mild tone. “I thought stomach rubs were supposed to help with cramps.”
You soften. “That’s really sweet of you,” you tell him, “but I’m okay. I just don’t love the idea of my stomach being, like, perceived right now.”
“Perceived?” Steve angles his head to see you better, hand resting on the flat of your chest. “Why, what’s wrong with it?”
“It’s just bloated.” You sink a bit further between his legs, avoiding his stare. “It’s like, remember that time I came over without telling you and you didn’t want me to see your hair first thing in the morning?”
“Yeah, you mean the time you told me to stop being a priss and get over it? That time?”
You chuckle. “Right, well, I guess it’s kind of like that.”
Steve hums, playing with your fingers idly. “Okay,” he says after a minute, “I just want to preface this by saying that I really like you, and I think you’re smart and cool. Okay?” He leans over until he can see your face, and you nod warily. “You’re being stupid.”
A laugh startles out of you, but Steve doesn't give you a chance for rebuttal.
“You’re hot, babe.” He says it deadpan, like it’s a fact he had to memorize in school. “Like, smoking hot. The idea that you would give a shit, much less think I would give a shit, about your stomach being bloated is insane. And you trying to keep me from touching it is, like, practically criminal. Aren’t your tits bloated too?”
“Um,” you hesitate, somehow more self-conscious than you had been when this began, “yeah?”
“Right,” he says proudly. “And not to be a creep, but I’ve kind of been enjoying the shit out of those for the past couple of hours.”
“Steve.” You laugh awkwardly, squirming underneath his gaze. “That’s different, and you know it.”
He shrugs, looking you plain in the face. “Not to me. Listen, babe,” he drops his voice into a more sincere register, “I like you—your stomach, your tits, all of it—all of the time. And I think it’d make you feel better if you let me rub your stomach for you right now, so just let me, and if I start to find you any less hot, I promise to let you know.” The implication in his tone is clear: like, when pigs fly.
You look at him for a while. Steve can surprise you with his stubbornness sometimes. His eyelashes don’t so much as flicker under your perusal.
“Okay,” you sigh, getting comfortable again in his lap. “Fine, have at it.”
“Yes,” he hisses, his hand going back down and taking in a greedy handful of your swollen belly. You start to tense, head going staticky, but gradually you’re able to relax. Steve with his hands on you is no foreign thing. He starts to push down tentatively, asking you to coach him on where you need it the most until he’s gently massaging over the ache. You let your eyes slip closed. You honestly hadn’t expected it to bring quite so much relief.
“Did Robin put you up to this?” you ask quietly.
Steve’s soft chuckle confirms your theory. “You’ve got her to thank for the chocolate ice cream in the fridge, too.”
A smile spreads across your face, and you can hear him laugh again at how blissed-out you must look. “Remind me to give her a hug the next time I see her.”
“You could just give it to me instead," he says. "I’ll pass it along.”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x self insert#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington hurt/comfort#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington scenario#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington fandom#stranger things#stranger things fandom#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader
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Um sorry uf this is a weird one but could the reader be shy and mattheo uses bdsm on her for the first time and she likes it
Yes!!!! Love this idea!
Do You Trust Me
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Bondage, cussing, unprotected sex, creampie, blindfold, fingering.
18+ Minors DNI!
You and Mattheo had been dating for a while now. You obviously have had sex many times, you were just always shy about it. Embarrassed about the topic. You loved having sex with him, but if he tried talking about it, you always shied away, always wormed your way out of the conversation. Mattheo found it funny and cute, but really wanted to talk to you about something that he’d been wanting to try with you for the past week. But you kept managing to get out of the conversations.
Finally, he had enough and had you under him as he was kissing you, he had you pinned to his bed, no way you could get out of this now.
He pulled back from the kiss and smiled down at you. “Princess, you know I’ve been trying to talk to you about something for a week now.”
“I think I prefer the kissing.” You said with a blush.
“You know I love how shy and cute you get.” He teased. “I wanna try something.”
“What?” You asked quietly.
“Do you trust me?” He asked back, not answering your question.
“I do.” You said, but with a bit of caution.
“Would you trust me to take care of you if you were tied up or blindfolded or anything like that?” He rubbed at your sides soothingly, not wanting to scare you off.
You stared up at him, face red in embarrassment at the conversation. But you also couldn’t deny that what he was saying intrigued you. So after a short pause, you finally spoke up. “Yeah.” Your voice was quiet and he probably wouldn’t have caught it if he wasn’t so close to you.
“Would you be willing to try that with me?” His hands stopped and squeezed your sides slightly in a reassuring way.
“Yeah.” You said with a small nod.
He smiled again, giving you a sweet kiss before helping you out of your clothes. He might’ve been going a little faster than usual, eager to try this out with you. He figured you’d say yes and already got what he’d need, so once he had you undressed, he quickly grabbed the soft ribbon he bought to tie you up. He didn’t want it to hurt you, so he opted for that instead of rope.
“Hands up for me, sweetheart.” He said as he came back to the bed, sitting beside you. You lifted your hands up and he tied them to the headboard before checking to make sure they aren’t too tight and aren’t digging into your skin too hard. “This makes you look like a present.” He smiled, trying to ease your nerves. “How’s that feel?” He rubbed along your stomach gently.
“It feels fine.” You said quietly, gently tugging at the ribbon to see if it’ll come undone. It won’t. Mattheo had done his research on how to keep it from untying.
“Good.” He said, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing it softly. “If you ever wanna stop, if it gets too much or anything at all, just say ‘pomegranate’ and I’ll stop everything, okay?”
You nodded, leaning into his touch.
“What’s the word?” He asked.
“Pomegranate.”
“Good girl.” He said. “I’m gonna blindfold you, too. Just focus on how I’m making you feel instead of worrying about things, yeah?”
You nodded in response again and he smiled.
He placed the blindfold on you, leaving you in darkness and unsure of what he was planning. You could hear some shuffling before he settled between your legs, rubbing them gently. He slipped his fingers between your folds.
“You’re fucking soaked, princess. It seems you’re into this stuff, huh?” You could practically hear the smile.
He pushed two fingers in you, thrusting them in and out quickly as you moaned and whined. His thumb found your clit and you were trying to close your legs on him.
“You’re doing so good for me.” He said, using his free hand to push your legs back open. “So beautiful.”
“Matty, please.” You whined.
“How about we try ‘sir’ instead?” He said and you were too worked up already to overthink anything.
“Please, sir.” You begged.
“That’s much better. Please what, angel?” His fingers were relentless, just working on trying to make you cum.
“I’m gonna cum, please.” Your hips were trying to move to meet with his fingers.
“Beg for it then, princess. Use your words.”
“Please, let me cum, sir. Please.” You begged, pulling at the ribbon as your legs shook.
“I’m not convinced yet. Keep going.”
“Please, sir. I need to cum. Please. It feels so good. Please.” You were nearly crying at this point.
“Good girl. Cum on my fingers.” He said, his free hand coming up to play with your nipples.
You came on his fingers with a cry of his name along with some profanity, body trembling beneath him.He helped ride out your orgasm before pulling out his fingers.
“Open.” He said and you opened your mouth. He pushed his fingers in. “Clean them.” You followed the order and sucked and licked his fingers clean, tasting yourself from them. “You’re so obedient.”
He pulled his fingers out and pushed your legs up to your chest. You could feel him starting to tease his cock along your pussy, coating it in your arousal. You whined and hissed at the contact, still sensitive from the orgasm.
“Please, sir, I need you.” You begged, wiggling your hips a little to get a little more friction.
“Yeah? Need me to fuck your sweet little pussy?” He teased, just wanting to hear you beg more.
“Yes! Please!”
“Always so shy, but act like such a slut for my cock, huh?” He started easing his cock in, wanting to go slow to make you feel everything. You both were moaning, panting with every inch that he pushed into you.
He bottomed out and groaned before starting to thrust in and out of you, setting a brutal pace. With how he had you folded, you were feeling him so deep in you, feeling like he was in your stomach. He moved a hand to rub at your clit, the other wrapping around your neck, lightly squeezing the sides. It had you getting lightheaded and making everything feel much more intense.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me, baby. You like this? You like me fucking you like a slut?” He asked and all you could do was moan in response, too fucked out to think of anything else. “Got you all dumb on my cock now too? My sweet, shy girl, all fucked out on my cock. You look fucking perfect, princess.” He was rambling, but it only made you wetter, building your orgasm much quicker. “Gonna cum on my dick, angel? I can feel you fucking clenching me.”
You were moaning and crying out as best as you could with his hand around your throat, pulling on the restraint. Your orgasm tore through you and cried out his name again, tears spilling down your cheeks in pleasure. He helped ride it out before untying you and flipping you over, getting you onto your knees and pushing your chest and head down onto the bed before pushing back into you.
“You’re so fucking perfect for me, princess.” He said, grabbing your hands to hold them behind your back with one hand as he pounded into you from behind. His other hand landed a spank on your ass, causing a yelp to escape your lips followed by a moan. “My princess likes that, huh?” He said and spanked you again, rubbing the area softly. “Fucking slut. You’re so fucking dirty. Just hiding behind all that shyness.”
He ripped another orgasm from you before finally cumming himself, filling your warm cunt with his cum as he helped ride out both of your orgasms.
He helped you back onto your back, gently taking off the blindfold. You had to blink a few times to adjust to the light before seeing his face, softly smiling down at you as he rubbed at your side soothingly again.
“How was that?” He asked gently, brushing your hair from your face. “Good?”
You nodded, catching your breath. “Good.”
“I got other things we can try later, too.”
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme
Let me know if you wanna be added!
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys smut#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle
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ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to you having an anxiety attack during sex — (MDNI)
a/n: heavy topics, very loosely described but please be cautious !
zayne notices the tremble in your hands and the unsteady beat of your heart before you've so much as kissed him- his profession has made him hyperaware after all but he doesn't try to diagnose you. Doesn't try to force, or expect you to progress further- does however, allow you to keep tenderly placing your lips to his own. Hand skimming up the backs of your arms in an effort to calm the panic settling in your bones.
zayne may be naturally cold to the touch, skin often prickled with goosebumps in the moments he's caught shirtless but he presses you to him anyway. Using your half dressed state as an opportunity to instead lay you against him, chest to chest, as the steady rhythm in his ribs serves as the drums to your own frantic attack. He pulls his discared shirt round your shoulders- draping his scent across your skin in the process, nose flaring as you try to focus on him.
xavier is a little more...dense, not really seeing the unease within you until a tear slips down your cheek mid thrust- hand shooting up to hide your face from your lover. He knows about your struggles but doesn't fully understand how they manifest in moments like these, letting you take the lead often in fear he might overstep a boundry.
fortunately, xavier has a natural talent for making people feel safe. His voice becomes softer round the edges, hushing your apologies as he cups your hands. Not to pry them from your face but to let you know he's there. He slowly drops his weight to his knuckle -weight resting on one balled fist as he timidly lowers himself into your space. Almost none exist pecks travelling the planes of your hidden form as he lets you sniffle through a bleary eyed panic, still settled between your legs.
rafayel is emotionally in sync with you at most times. Knows you like the back of his hand and can often tell what is bothering you long before you know for yourself- including when your above him, sweaty from using him like a stress relief toy for god knows how many rounds and chasing an end that doesn't seem to be in sight before frustrantingly removing yourself from him entirely- standing by the bed as your shoulders heave with laboured breaths.
he's good at reading people, but rafayel prefers when you come and out right tell him what it is your need -or atleast gesture him in the right direction. He understands the mind is complex. Something that may have comforted you yesterday, could be a trigger today and the last thing he wants is for you to slip into a mindset that pleases him not you. He gives you the space you seek, not bringing it back to the forefront of your mind when you return to his side- opting to indulge in the normality of his cheeky personality that successfully eases the tension in your spine.
p.s nonnie if your still here I hope this is okay, I was kinda vague with it but I didnt wanna make them too heavy <3
#myths—#love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#l&ds#love and deepspace xavier#xavier x reader#lads xavier#lads x reader#lads rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel love and deepspace#lads zayne#love and deepspace zayne#zayne x reader#zayne love and deepspace#l&ds zayne#l&ds x reader#l&ds rafayel#l&ds xavier
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omgg i love ur writing broo it has my giggling, kicking my feet n shi and the fact that u also do fem black readers OMG I LOVE U anyways putting my appreciation aside, what abt nerdy freaky armin (if u havent already ofcc) like u cant tell me that man is FREAKYY (i ❤️ freaks)
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤
A/N: you are the cutest patoodiest 💗 mwa thank u sweetiepie! and ur absolutely right UR ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!! yk what they say it's alwaysss the quiet nerdy ones!! 🥰
Pairing: ARMIN Arlert x f.reader
Summary: Min's the nerdy valedictorian with a freaky side 🥰
Warnings; 🔞 mdni, SMUT, this isn't fully proofread 👀, sub.Armin/some light dom.Armin, stereotypes (nerd, popular girl), mean reader, dirty talk, public sex (library, during class), facial, handjob (reader giving), oral (reader giving), light humiliation/degradation, bondage (blindfolding, tying hands), mean names (freak, loser), creaming in his pants, hair pulling kink, slapping kink, begging, toys (vibrator), use me kink (or whatever it's called), lmk if i missed some i was in a freaky state of mind while writing lmfao
♪ spice up your life come and get a freak
Min is the quiet blond boy that sits next to you every chance he can get. He follows you like a puppy from class to class, trying his best to interest you — the pretty popular girl of his wet dreams — with every nerdy topic that comes to mind.
Yes he's blabbing your ear off about the importance of maths, but really he's thinking about what what color panties you wear. Do you prefer lace or plain? What's your favorite position? Do you prefer backshots? Missionary? Full Nelson? Mating press?
You wouldn't suspect the school's valedictorian to have such a nasty mind.
He just can't wait 'till you give him a taste. He knows you will 'cause he's been so good to you, always helping you study for tests and even taking notes for you when you're skipping class. He's been such a help.
The first time is his fantasy come true; you jerked him under the desk during a lecture. He shuddered n tried to focus on what the professor was saying, but how could he with your fingers wrapped so tightly around his pulsing cock? :( The poor boy came in his pants and enjoyed every second of it, even when he had to embarrassedly excuse himself after class to 'tend to an emergency'.
He loves when you make his glasses fog up from how hot his face is and how heavy he's breathing. He loves when you make them slide down the bridge of his pretty nose, mouth hanging open while you make out with his cock in the library.
That all started because he asked you "can you k-kiss my cock?"
Now he melts and falls apart, desperately muffling his moans by biting down on his thin textbook. When he's close he grabs a fistful of your hair n tugs your head back, pulling you off his cock with a sloppy pop — starting to jerk himself over your face.
"C-can I cum on your face?" he pants, already deciding that he would regardless of what you say. He had to see his milky white cum painting your face.
"Oh? You're a fucking freak," you giggle sweetly, sending a rush through his body, "Of course you can cum on my face."
He absolutely folds when you call him a freak. He lives for the moments you expose his kinks, too.
Of course he's into bondage, why wouldn't he be 🙄 he loves using a neat silk tie as a blindfold... on himself, not you. He squirms and whines and pleads, "Let me see you, please."
Don't forget to cuff him to your bed and milk him nicely!
If you wanna get him achingly hard and sensitive for you, you gotta degrade him :( call him a freak, call him pathetic, call him a loser, humiliate him for cumming in his pants, tell him he's your toy.
And if you wanna make him cum loads then you should consider indulging in his slapping kink — his hair pulling kink — everything. He just wants the popular girl to pull his hair while she rides his cock like a toy.
"Please please please use me — use my cock like your toy n' call me a loser again. Please! Mmm yes yes yes I'm pathetic for you, Y/n ~ " he has the cutest high pitched moans.
He also begs you to use your vibrating toys on his cock :( <3
Speaking of begging... he is always, always begging. Pawing at your skirt to get your attention, eyes pleading for you to sneak off with your favorite loser so you can squeeze in a quickie before class.
Poor nerdy Armin just wants you to fuck him 'till his glasses slip right off, 'till his cock hurts, 'till you wring him dry of all his cum — is that too much to ask for?
#♥️ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 — アルミン#🔞#mdni#smut#armin smut#armin arlert smut#armin x reader smut#armin arlert x reader smut#armin x fem reader#armin x f reader#armin x reader#armin x y/n#armin x you#aot smut#snk smut#attack on titan smut#aot x reader#snk x reader#attack on titan x reader
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imagine miles morales confessing to you that he is spider man after he saves you from something idk I love him
sure thing anon :) I don't know if you wanted this to be a pre - established relationship, so I'm just gonna go on a limb here and do that. sorry this took so long, I had a sudden burst of motivation. it's 1 am, so this isn't proofread
wc : I don't have a fucking clue, how do you check your word count if you're mobile?? I wanna do that 😭
Friendly neighborhood spider - man
pairing: miles morales x journalist reader
summary : being new york's top journalist has its perks, but it always seems to attract the wrong type of attention.
Journalism. It's not for the faint of heart. When you have deadlines to make, interviews to take care of, and people constantly yelling either at you or around you 24 / 7, everything can be a bit time consuming.
That also means you get a lot of attention. Some good, while others..not so much. Sure, its nice to have a free coffee or cake pop every now and then for the articles and the interviews you do; people have always said you have a way with words.
You really don't even know how you got into this situation. The caffeine kicked in, which made you jumpy to everyone and everything, really. Your eyebags were not very nice to look at and to be honest, you looked a mess.
You woke up late for class, you weren't really feeling like getting out of bed anyways but you did it anyway. No makeup, no nice and preppy clothing, just you; and boy did that bite you in the ass. You were 95% sure that all the things you had in life were handed to you because you were pretty. For instance, the guy who hired you literally took one look at you and said "congratulations, you're hired. we could use a pretty girl like you for coffee runs, right sweetheart?"
With balancing college and your career as a journalist, it's not too difficult. So then why'd you end up in this situation? Getting cornered by 3 guys in a dark ass alleyway, and it's 3:05 am.
No one at your job comes close to you when it comes to performance. Every single time. The newest topic of discussion is Brooklyn's number one trending for 7 years straight : spider - man.
"Who was he?" is your focus. The CEO of your job was retiring, and he held a competition to see who would take his spot. He obviously had you in mind, but he wanted to make things fair and you told him you wanted to earn it, not have it given to you.
The challenge was fairly simple: Get an exclusive interview with spider - man and have him answer a couple questions.
You've done exclusives before, not a problem. Until you realized, major problem. He swings around the city 24/7 how in fucks name were you going to catch him? Until an idea came to you. You stayed up all night, then you got hungry, so you left your dorm and walked down the street to the 24 hour convenience store. You liked documenting what you do, so you were recording on your phone where you were going.
After getting some snacks, you left and couldn't shake the feeling you were being followed. You were. By 4 different people. One of whom was none other than the infamous Miles Morales or, well, spider - man. He saw the guys five minutes ago and didn't want to do anything until he knew for sure you were getting followed.
A bit of time passes and miles realizes, he lost you. He hears a muffled shout from down the street so he runs towards it, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.
Now your mind comes back to this exact moment. You can't really make out what the guy in front of you is saying, but you think he's trying to rob you, but why would he need two other guys to rob someone? Especially in the middle of the night. You look dazed and totally not scared at all, Miles thinks, as he's literally invisible right in front of you.
You come out of your trance to one of them forcing you onto the ground. You wiggle and worm your way away, but it's not enough. Fear settled in as you realized what they were doing.
"Hey! Let her go." A voice shouts. You reach into your pocket to grab your pepper spray as you see a bunch of webs and hear hard blows hitting, but it's really dark and you can't see in the dark for shit.
You start running out of the alley and back towards your building, you look back and see the three of them running after you. So you run a little faster, and faster, until you're full on sprinting down the street.
'Thank god my parents forced me into track and field.' you thought, as you got closer and closer to the building. As luck would have it, the doors were locked, and your key was in that bag full of snacks.
They finally catch you, and in a split second, you brace for impact, but it never comes. You're in the air.
You look up and there it is. This is the story that'll get you CEO position, you'll be CEO for the rest of your life. A thought pops into your head as he drops you off at his apartment.
'Was my phone recording everything? Oh shit it was.' you think to yourself as you pull out your phone, your eyes widening.
Another thought pops up. 'oh my god, I'm in spider - man's apartment. it's not even that far from my building.' you wonder as you stop the recording.
"you do know you're going to have to delete that footage, right?" he asks as he lifts up his mask and puts something in his mouth.
"I get your job as a journalist is important, but sweetheart, I gotta keep you safe."
You raise your eyebrow, "how do you know about my job?"
he shrugs as he removes his mask.
"Miles? What the fuck is this? Don't tell me you're.. You're spider - man?" You whisper yell as you back up towards his desk.
"The one and only, love. surprised to see me?" he chuckles.
it was then that everything started to piece together. he always bails on plans, he's always late and has sudden injuries. hell, you even saw his suit in his bag once, but you didn't think anything of it.
"wait.. what does my interview with you have anything to do with keeping me safe?" you raised a brow at him as he plops down on his bed.
"think about it, baby. Me swinging around being spider - man gets pretty complicated when there's an article released by my girlfriend about how she got saved, by me. It puts you in jeopardy, because criminals can find you and use you as bait, and because I don't know that you won't put my identity out there." he explained.
"but you know I'm not like that." you replied.
"yes, I know baby. it's just complicated." he said.
you sighed with a defeated look, knowing that your boss wasn't going to be pleased, but it was for the best.
"if it's alright with you, do you mind if I just stay here for the night? in the morning, on my way to work, I can ask for another key." you asked, softly, him catching your disappointed change in octave.
"yeah sure, that's fine." he replied, walking into his room.
"do you have a spare blanket? I can just sleep out here on the couch." you called to him.
"hm? uh yeah, I think I have a spare. unless you'd like to sleep in my room, with me? the couch is kinda uncomfortable, and it gets kinda cold in here throughout the night." he offered, shyly.
"what about your roommate?" you questioned quietly.
"he won't be back for another week or so, as far as I'm concerned, he'll text if something goes south." he answered.
you thought for a moment, then nodded as you followed him into his room and climbed into his soft bed.
"woah, this is way softer than I thought it would be. what softener do you use when you wash your blankets?" you wondered aloud, cuddling all in his blankets and he chuckled.
"uhhh, I don't know. my roommate does laundry. I don't ever go with him unless he needs me to, which isn't often." he responded.
'ah.' you thought.
"aren't you going to spoon me? c'mon miles, please?" you pleaded with the tired, little puppy dog eyes miles swore he hated, because he could never say no to you when you made that face.
"I'm sorry, I have a couple of essays to write still. Why don't you get the bed nice and warm, then I'll be in bed before you know it." he cooed.
your eyelids started to get heavy as you let out a small hum as you started to fall asleep.
when you woke up the next day, it was 8 am and there was a small basket in the chair next to you.
the basket was filled with your snacks from the night before all wrapped up in the bag still, a hoodie and some clothes to wear to class, a water bottle and a nice book for you to read. on the desk, there was your favorite iced coffee and a note with absolutely beautiful penmanship.
you smiled as you read the letter.
[ hello,
spider man here!
I only have time to answer one of your questions right now, so here it is.
Being a hero isn't about being famous or rich, it's about your own morals and how you stick to them. I started the whole "spiderman" thing when I was 14 years old. It was hard, I had just lost a family member and I felt isolated from my family. You wouldn't believe me if I said that under the mask, I'm just an ordinary person, just like all of you, but I am, really.
I chose to be a hero because I believed in helping others. I really have to leave, so I can't say much more.
Remember, anyone can wear the mask.
Until next time,
—your friendly neighborhood spider man. ]
while you knew that you couldn't tell anyone about who was really under the mask, a part of you felt proud that he trusted you with his secret.
should I make another part to this? likes and reblogs are always appreciated :>
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The P-word, J Burrow
summary; he doesn't know what to say or how to react to things like this.
warnings; fluff fr, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy tests, pet names (baby, honey, ) joe actually kinda sucks with words but same lmaoooo, swearing, kissing
word count; 903
note; yes angst but also fluff. i'm working on more frat!lsu!joey, but this was something random I wanted to post since it's been a little while. i hate the ending no one talk about it. winter writer's block ain't no joke fr.
this is kind of my thank you for two hundred followers even though we are just on the cusp of three, but thank you so much, I appreciate the support of my works more than you will ever know. i love every one of my followers so so sooo much yall are the best:)
Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. Maybe the more you think of those eight letters will fade away and completely off the little plastic at-home test you decided to finally take. God the word just keeps ringing in your head like the most annoying of alarms. How the hell are you supposed to tell him? His career's just started he'll never be along for the roller coaster ride, especially not when it consists of a baby running around as well.
However, luck chooses to be your opponent this evening since Joe's already home and sitting on the couch in the living room, completely oblivious to the fact that your world has just turned completely upside down. It took a while for you to work up the nerve to call him up, but when you did everything suddenly felt so heavy.
The weight refused to leave your shoulders as he sat on the truck at the foot of your bed. Rehearing in the mirror, preparing for every scenario, but especially for the one that you hope and pray will never occur. Everything that you've been through together, nothing will go wrong, he's too good of a person.
After several minutes, worry becomes evident in your voice as he asks you through the door if everything's alright, "'M fine, just nervous, I guess." That seemed to do the opposite of what you intended, that is, maybe your lying and saying you're fine would shut him up for a bit, but your being nervous led to many other questions from the other side of the door.
Adding on to that p-word, every what if clouds your mind as well. What if telling him this is your biggest regret? What if he just packs his shit and leaves? What if-, "Baby, are you sure?" Fucks sake he's still going with his questions, in any less stressful situation this would've been appreciated, but not when you can barely seem to focus on the most topic at hand.
Now or never, seemed to be the only thing that got you to push open the door and finally face the man you love so dearly. He almost instantly jumps up, concern written all over his face even more so when he glances in the direction of your hands. "Do you wanna tell me what's going on?" No, not entirely, you think but you won't let that escape your mouth, matter of fact, nothing leaves your mouth for many seconds. Maybe never was a good idea.
It took a bit for you to unscramble your words and finally speak up, "I'm gonna tell you something, but you have to try not to freak out." Your mouth felt dry the way your anxiety made your throat close up made it feel like your lungs had shrunk five times the size they were before, "Okay, care to share? I'm like shitting my pants right now," Joe spoke, chuckling but not because it was funny, he laughs because he's terrified of what words may escape your lips.
You do everything you can to avoid his eyes because the all too familiar feeling of tears surfaces on your waterline and his brows furrow at that. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything, yeah?" His question is lost to you as he cups your face thumbing away the tears before they got a chance to slip down your cheeks. The feeling of his eyes searching yours for any answer to all the questions that he's thinking about is a scary feeling.
"I'm pregnant," it comes out as a whisper, but the way the color completely drains from his face, you know he understood every syllable of those two words. For a split second, he stares at you with a look you don't think you've ever received from him before, "That's... wow." A strangled breath of half relief and half worry escapes you at his response.
Your soul leaves your body as he racks his brain for something to say to express just how he's feeling, but he's almost certain there is no possible way to verbally explain it. Now tears are welling up in his pretty blue eyes, "That's insane, I dunno what to say, are you sure?" His voice is trembling just as much as his hands as you place the test into his palm, he gets choked up as he reads over the same word that had your stomach in knots before with nothing but admiration and surprise.
"Holy fucking shit," he gapes, pulling you into him so tight it nearly knocks the wind right out of you. You laugh now as it settles into your mind that Joe would never do anything to hurt you or your baby in any way possible and to think he would ever leave in a situation like this one was silly, but thinking irrationally tends to happen quite a lot.
"I'm gonna be a dad, I need to call-" you cut him off before he's able to go on his rant, "How about we pause, and we can tell whoever we want in the most extravagant, Joseph Burrow way possible?" He snorts at that, pulling his face away from his place against your shoulder, muffling some form of agreement against your lips, then your jaw, neck, and clavicle, and lowering himself to his knees.
For a moment he looks up at you, "Sorry if I scared you with my response, I don't usually know what to say in times like this and my brain went into shock mode."
#joe burrow#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow x you#joe burrow fic#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow smut#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow oneshot#joe burrow blurb#nfl fan fic
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DRIVEWAY ₊ ⊹ ── ✶ ˙ ̟ DEUCE GORGON
dumb jock ! deuce falls for his tutor
deuce flipped his most recent dead languages test over, quickly flipped it back over, and slumped in his seat, squeezing his eyes shut behind his glasses.
"yo, man." clawd tapped him on the shoulder. "what'd you get?"
"nothing good, dude," deuce mumbled.
"it can't be as bad as heath."
heath broke into a laugh and replied, "yeah, i got a 40! it's not like you could've gotten any worse than m—"
"i got a ten," deuce relented. he didn't need to open his eyes to see their widened eyes and gaping mouths. "yeah, i know."
"oh man. you think coach'll let you play next weekend?" clawd asked, tone worried. next weekend was the big casketball game, and coach had a strict c-average rule for his players. deuce was already straddling the line between a c and a d, but that test was going to drop him down to an f at least.
"definitely not," deuce said. "it's whatever, you guys'll do fine without me playing." he cracked an eye open to see clawd and heath exchange skeptical looks, but they dropped the topic for the rest of class.
at the end of the hour, just as deuce was gathering up his books, mr. rotter called him up to the front of the class. shooting a pleading glance at his friends, who shrugged apologetically, he shuffled down the steps to his teacher.
"'sup, mr. rotter?" deuce greeted. his teacher looked him up and down and scoffed.
"mr. gorgon, are you aware that you failed the test we just took last class?"
deuce looked down and scuffed his sneaker on the wooden floor. "yeah," he mumbled.
mr. rotter sighed and rubbed his temple. "you won't be able to play this weekend."
deuce nodded.
"coach igor's not gonna like that . . . but if you get your grades up in time for next week's quiz, you could be on track to play at the next game."
the next game was only two weeks out, and it was against their biggest rivals
"okay, sweet. how do i do that?" he asked.
"well, i could assign you a tutor."
deuce's head snapped up and some of his snakes hissed. "mr. r, man, you've gotta be kidding. a tutor? can't i do like, extra credit or something?"
"there are no more extra credit assignments for the rest of the semester," mr. rotter deadpanned. "you either don't play until you get your grades up by yourself or you can meet with the tutor. it's one or the other, mr. gorgon."
deuce groaned. "alright, alright. what's the tutor's name?"
"y/n."
he shrugged. "dunno 'em."
he wished he knew them sooner. the two weeks had gone by incredibely fast and mr. rotter's quiz was the next day. y/n was sitting across the small library table holding a stack of flashcards.
deuce kept getting every other question wrong because he kept looking at their eyes.
they sighed. "deuce. focus. the quiz is tommorow!" they sighed, putting the flashcards down between them and dropping their head into their hands. "oh my ghoul, the quiz is tommorow!"
"yeah, it is," deuce rubbed his neck sheepishly. "do you wanna...?" he gestured to the cards. his tutor, his crush, sighed again and looked up. they looked exhausted.
"yeah, sure," they said. they started to reach for the flashcards but deuce got an idea and put his hands over the cards. their fingers bumped into each other and y/n quickly pulled their hand back, eyes wide.
"wait. why don't we take a break?" he offered.
"a break? deuce we—"
"just like, thirty minutes," he protested. "we can go get a soda or a milkshake. anything to get out of this musty library."
their face transformed from a stressed, exasparated grimace into a bright smile. "milkshakes?"
"yeah!" deuce loved their smile.
"like..." their smile turned hesitant. "like a date?" they cocked their head to the side.
deuce's face flushed, and his snakes hissed. "i mean... if you want it to be a date," he replied, trying to act nonchalant.
". . . sure," they smiled.
"wait, really?" he asked, taken aback by their answer.
"yeah, i wanna get outta here too," they joked. "plus, you're like. . . really cute." they turned their face down to the table.
"then let's go!" deuce pushed his chair back and grabbed their hand. "c'mon."
they laughed all the way down the halls and into the parking lot, where they slid into the passenger seat of deuce's car.
a few minutes later, they were sipping on milkshakes, sitting on the hood of his car and watching the sun dip behind the horizon.
"y'know, this is way more fun than studying for rotter's stupid quiz," deuce said.
"definitely," y/n agreed. they took a long slurp of their milkshake, pulling out their phone to check the time. "oh, shit man. i've gotta get home. curfew, y'know?" they slid off the hood.
deuce looked down at them, disappointed, before his face lit up with another idea. "i can drive you home," he offered.
they looked up at him. he could feel a hot flush creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.
"that'd be nice."
y/n pushed open the passenger side door and got out. they waved goodbye and thanked deuce for the milkshake. "good luck tomorrow," they grinned. "you're gonna do great either way, cause, y'know." they pointed at themselves. "i'm your tutor."
deuce laughed and watched as they walked up their driveway.
"wait!" he called out. he quickly got out of his car and ran to meet them in the middle of their drive. "uh . . ."
one of his snakes hissed in his ear, berating him for being nervous. he shook his head and took a deep breath.
"do you wanna, uh. . . do this again soon?" he asked. y/n looked confused.
"the— the tutoring?" they questioned.
"no," deuce chuckled. "like, the milkshakes. the. . . the date."
"oh. oh! yeah, no totally sure!!!" y/n rambled. i'd rather see that twinkle in their eye rather than look at the stars, deuce thought. "that'd— that'd be nice. actually, that'd be great," they smiled.
"sweet."
"cool."
they both stood there, in the middle of the driveway, staring at each other like middle school crushes. then, y/n leaned forward and pressed a kiss to deuce's cheek.
they pulled back with wide eyes. "bye! see you later— tomorrow! uh—" they scrambled back towards the steps of their porch. "g'night, deuce!"
they shut the door behind them, and through the silhouette in the window, deuce saw them jump in the air, pumping their fist up.
he laughed and raised a hand to the cheek they kissed. "g'night, y/n."
#dude but romantically (liz's version)#liz’s writing ♡#deuce gorgon x reader#deuce gorgon#mh deuce#monster high deuce#monster high#mh#monster high x reader#mh x reader
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