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strangersmunsons · 3 months

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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 2 Prompt: Chocolates 🍫 ~ 2,000 words Eddie's grumpy until he sees a familiar face in the candy aisle.

“This is a fake holiday,” mumbles Eddie as he pushes the cart past the pink and red aisle of Bradley’s Big Buy.

His uncle chuckles. “When you have someone to spend it with, you’ll feel differently.”

“Wayne,” Eddie deadpans, “this is just some bullshit that Hallmark made up so they could take more of our money.”

“I’m not sayin’ you need to go all commercial,” Wayne clarifies. “I just mean that when there’s someone special in your life, boy, you might be in a better mood during this month.”

Eddie’s mouth sets bitterly. He’d rather not get the ‘you’ll find someone someday’ talk right now — the last thing he needs is another reminder of how lonely he is.

Wayne senses his nephew’s reluctance to discuss the matter, and so bites his tongue. Instead, he points at a row of cans on the shelf beside them. “Do you need more tomato soup, or are you set for a while?”

Back at home, Eddie lays on the floor of his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Yeah, okay, maybe Wayne had a point. Maybe he’d hate all this stupid cutesy shit less if he didn’t have to watch everyone around him enjoy it while he spent yet another Valentine’s Day alone in his uncle’s trailer, with no one to keep him company, save for a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

The worst part of it is — and Eddie would rather die than admit this — that deep down, he thinks he really could be…romantic.

Sure, he’s rough around the edges. He tends to be prickly, wary of others’ intentions, but it’s necessary in order for him to survive in Hawkins. The Munson name was already notorious, and his reputation preceded him; the incident with poor Chrissy Cunningham three years prior, despite his innocence, had sealed his fate as the town pariah.

But if someone could just give him a chance, a real chance, he thinks that he could make that person really happy.

He’d help around the house. Cleaning, laundry, anything you — whoever you are — needed a hand with. He’d learn to cook better so he could keep you eatin’ good. He’d plan fun dates. He’d play your favorite songs on guitar, maybe write you new ones, if he was feeling inspired…anytime you needed him, he’d be there. He’d be the most reliable, affectionate, loving —

“Ed?” There’s a light knock on his door.

“Come in,” he calls back.

Wayne pokes his head into the room. “I’ve got to head to the plant in a few,” he says. “While I’m gone, can you do me a favor?”

Eddie sits halfway up, propped on his elbows. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Wayne fidgets, looking apologetic. “I know we were just there, but d’you mind going back to the Big Buy to pick up some candy? It’s Mrs. Johnson’s first Valentine’s Day since her husband passed, and I meant to get her something sweet, but I forgot.”

Eddie hauls himself up off the floor. “No problem. Want anything specific?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t need nothin’ fancy, just get whatever’s cheapest that still looks nice.”

“That’s the Munson way,” Eddie muses, smiling in spite of himself.

Eddie reluctantly makes a turn down the seasonal aisle he had so pointedly avoided earlier, feeling depressed. Cherubs and teddy bears seem to mock him from where they sit, and he heaves a dramatic sigh.

His eyes roam the line of cards, plush toys, endless boxes of chocolates and candies, when they finally land on you, also perusing the rows of heart-shaped packages.

Recognition flickers instantly. Eddie suddenly finds that his heart is beating very quickly in his chest.

You.

You had still been a year behind him when he finally graduated, and though he didn’t really know you-know you, he was friends with people who did. You weren’t bullied like he and the guys were, but you weren’t exactly popular, either — and so more often than not, you ran in similar circles. Gareth and Harry used to swear up and down that you were the nicest girl in Hawkins.

Because of them, he had spent brief moments with you from time to time. He thought you had been very pretty, in your own unique way, but you were also rather shy. Your exchanges were always polite and charming, even if they never broke deeper than surface-level; overall, he’d found you incredibly endearing.

He never kept in touch, but as the years went by, he had often wondered about you.

Back then, it was hard to see past his own preoccupations: he was so focused on not failing his classes, Corroded Coffin, Hellfire, his dealing gig with Rick. But in retrospect, it always seemed to him like he had missed out on something special in not taking the time to properly befriend you.

Now, against all odds, you’re right here in front of him. And he had found you attractive back then, but now? Holy shit. You’re striking to look at.

As he studies your side profile, he thinks, it’s not that your appearance has really changed much, but rather the way you seem to be holding yourself.

You used to walk quickly through the hallways with your shoulders hunched and your head down, like you were trying to make yourself as small as possible. But now your posture is relaxed, your stance casual; your head is held high and a slight smile turns up the corners of your lips. And your clothes seem different too, like maybe you’d finally found your personal style, and were dressing in the way that you truly liked.

Is this what they call kismet? Fate, destiny, whatever, maybe Eddie’s fantasy-oriented brain was jumping to conclusions, but he thinks of the floor-misery he’d been wallowing in not even an hour ago — had his internal bitching been an unintentional prayer, which was now being answered?

He takes a few cautious steps forward, trying to act natural.

You glance at him when he comes nearer and offer him a quick smile before turning back to the sweet assortment before you.

Eddie stands next to you awkwardly, pretending to browse, hoping to see you make some gesture of familiarity, any confirmation that you might remember him as well as he remembers you.

But nothing. The seconds tick by.

You reach for a box of chocolates and Eddie’s overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom. He starts sweating. Any second now, you would pluck a shiny, ribbon-adorned package and twirl away from him, vanishing into thin air, and the moment would be gone. His opportunity would be over, and he’d never, ever see you again.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out. His face turns crimson, but he blunders on anyway. “I don’t wanna bother you, but did you graduate from Hawkins High in ‘87?”

You turn to him, eyebrows raised in surprise, one arm still outstretched. A breathy laugh escapes you. “Yeah, I did.” You give him the tiniest wave. “Hi, Eddie.”

He could almost cry in relief. You do remember him.

“Hi.” He returns your wave, dopey grin unfurling on his face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you just now. I didn’t think you would remember me,” you explain apologetically.

Forget you? Absurd. “Of course I remember you. How’ve you been?”

Your voice is bright, cheerful. “I’ve been good! Busy with school.”

College, of course. You had definitely been an honor roll kid. “If you’re in school, then you don’t still live in town, do you?”

“Nah, my university’s too far. I got a place near campus, but I come home every now and then.” You smile, and motion towards yourself. “Obviously.”

“Oh. Nice.” Eddie twiddles his thumbs nervously. “Are your classes going good?”

“For the most part. They’re stressful sometimes, but that’s to be expected, I guess.”

“Yeah, but you’re super smart. I’m sure you’re killin’ it up there.”

“I’m trying my best,” you reply with a modest shrug. “What about you? What have you been up to lately?” You look at him with genuine interest, like you’re truly eager to hear about how he’s doing.

Oh, what to say. He opts for simplicity. “Bartending. At the moment I��m between The Hideout and The Attic. Although, I’m thinkin’ about trying to get a job at the garage instead.”

“You should!” Your voice is sincere, full of warmth. “I bet you’d be great there — I know you did a lot of work on your van.”

A bolt of pleasure runs through him. You didn’t just remember his name and face, but you recalled some minor details about him as well. He stands a little taller. “Thank you. We’ll see if it works out, I suppose.”

There’s a brief pause. Eddie moistens his chapped lips with his tongue. “Listen…”

Do it, you coward. If she says no, she says no, and you’ll get over it. Eventually.

“Um, if you’re ever home for the weekend, would you maybe wanna hang out? Grab a coffee or something?”

You look taken aback, but not displeased. Eddie counts that as a win.

“Sure. That would be really fun.”

He flashes you a grin. “Sick.” Then it occurs to him: you came home for Valentine’s Day weekend. Surely you’re in Hawkins because you have a date lined up with some former classmate who swooped in and asked you out after he had gone, and that’s who you were buying candy for and —

“I’m assuming you’re busy this weekend, though?” You point at the treats in front of you. “‘Cause I see you’re here to pick up the goods,” you tease him cheerfully.

“Oh, n-not really,” he stammers. “Wayne asked me to pick up something for our neighbor. I’m just an errand boy.” He swallows. “Do you have any big plans?”

“Nope,” you reply casually, lips popping the p-sound. You pull the candy you’d be aiming for before he interrupted, a pack of Hershey’s cream-filled chocolate hearts. You nod at him sagely. “I am my own Valentine this year.”

You don’t need to be. I’ll volunteer.

Eddie musters up all his courage, rocking slightly on his feet. “Actually, if you don’t have plans…like, if you’re not seeing anybody…would you wanna go out on a date with me tomorrow?” Nerves get the better of him and he starts pouring out word-vomit, totally oblivious to the way your expression is getting softer and softer the longer he rambles. “I get that it’s Valentine’s Day, I don’t know if you think that’s really…weird for a first date, or…if you even wanna go on a date with me at all, which if you don’t, that’s totally fine and I understand —”

“I don’t think that would be weird at all,” you cut in, giving him a smile that could melt an iceberg. “Eddie, I would love to go on a date with you.”

He feels like he’s having a fever dream. This can’t be real. Is this what manifesting is?

From now on, when he wants something, he’s gonna go cry on his bedroom floor about it.

Painfully aware of how clumsy his proposition came out, Eddie tries to put at least one suave move on you. “Well, if we really have a date tomorrow,” he says, swiping the Hershey’s from you, “then there’s no reason for you to be buyin’ your own chocolates. Allow me.”

Ten minutes later, both of you armed with candies and a phone number apiece, Eddie escorts you across the icy parking lot to your car. You grip his arm tightly crossing over a slippery patch of asphalt, and his stomach flutters in a way it hasn’t in years.

Okay, okay.

Maybe there is something to be said for this stupid, fake holiday.

thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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svuguru · 6 days

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step dad nanami fucking his step daughter in her school uniform >o<

Tags: stepcest!!! Antis and minors DNI! Unprotected and it’s implied (heavily) he finishes inside <3 I tried to be more inclusive of the uniform :( fucking in front of the mirror ^^ I don’t remember which position it was but I think it was doggy?? 😭

Kento’s hands hold a firm grip on your hips, thrusting his hips back and forth as gasps fall from your pretty glossed lips. Your little school skirt is thrown over your waist, but it’s just a bit too short he was sure you must have gotten dress coded… it barely reached just above your knees, there’s no way no one called it out.

The moment you walked through the door after coming home from school, Kento’s pants grew tighter for whatever reason. Just the way your skirt would flow along with your legs, when you would bend over and teasing him with that slight peek of your cute pink panties… it was too much for your poor stepdad, how could you tease him so much?

“Wah, Daddy!” You cry, clenching onto the messed up bedsheets underneath you. Kento’s thankful your mother is still at work, blissfully unaware of the way his thick cock is stuffing your tiny hole full, so deep in front of the mirror so he could watch the way your little body moves in your school uniform.

“Shh, sweet girl, I know,” he murmurs softly, looking down at your back hidden by your uniform shirt. You’re just too cute in your uniform, so irresistible, and the way your lips stuck in a pout, whining about needing him and all… how could he deny his pretty little stepdaughter of something he knows they both want?

“S’deep, daddy…” you mumble dumbly, stupid on his cock as your juices coat his dick. You look so cute full of his girth, tears in your eyes, crying incoherent sentences.

“Yeah?” Kento laughs, “look, you’re so tiny,” he says affectionately, his hand carefully trailing up to your chest, his fingers teasing your hardened nipples, pulling and twisting at them which elicits moans and whimpers from your throat.

Your tits jiggle at the way he’s fucking his cock into you, one big hand cupping your boob, the other keeping its hold on your hips, moving you back and forth along with him.

“‘M not that small…” you pout before feeling his tip tease your sweet spot. Your jaw goes slack, your eyes roll to the back of your head before the squeeze shut. “S’much, daddy, too much!” You cry and squirm, feeling knots tie in your poor tummy, your legs twitching.

Kento’s hand moves from your tit to your ass, rubbing it gently before landing an unexpected slap to it, his eyes glued to the way you jump slightly from it.

“Poor baby,” he grins, “you can take it, yeah? I know you can, be a big girl,” eager to please your step daddy, you nod, biting back a sob, tears falling from your lash line, down the flushed apple of your cheeks.

His hips are slamming harshly against your ass, bouncing at the impact. Your skirt falls from the waistband back down to its original place, which earns a grunt from Kento.

“Shit… such a pretty girl,” his voice is deep and low, your walls clenching his dick, feelings his veins throb against your warmth.

“Daddy, think ‘m gonna cum!” Your fingers squeeze the bedsheets, grounding yourself to earth. In response to your whine, Kento groans and nods his head.

“Come on, you can do it,” he encourages you, “do it f’me, like a good girl,” and suddenly the knot in your stomach unties itself, all you see is stars everywhere you look, all around the room. Kento’s hips don’t stop even as you’re coming undone, painting his dick in your juices. “That’s my baby, hm?”

It’s only a few more thrusts before Kento’s hips begin to stutter, his breath gradually growing uneven. “Princess,” he sighs, “‘m gonna stuff you full, ‘Kay? Is that alright?” So dumb on your stepdad’s cock, you nod your head, mumbling a barely coherent “mkay, daddy,” as your head buried itself in the sheets.

Kento knows it’s wrong as he fucks harder into you, he knows it’s awful to do this with his stepdaughter, but you’re just too cute to resist..

#jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #Kento Nanami x reader #Nanami Kento x reader #Nanami Kento smut #Kento Nanami smut #Nanami smut #Nanami x reader smut #Nanami Kento x reader smut #Kento Nanami x reader smut

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year

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II ║ Threads

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part I: Seams | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: When Joel revisits Main Street Outfitters two weeks later, he finds you on your knees. Again.

Warnings: Very spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: This crept up on me and happened just as I was finishing up edits. I am so grateful, and I hope Threads is a fitting thank you gift to you all 😘 I’m thinking about doing a sleepover celebration, we shall see!

Joel and Pin are back ❤️ They're back because you guys have been so generous with your love, sending me so many ideas and hyping me up - I can't thank you all enough! This chapter is all thanks to Singer machine anon who bravely (affectionate 😉) shared their story of getting stuck under a sewing machine table. I hope you enjoy this one!

A treadle sewing machine is powered mechanically by a foot pedal that is pushed back and forth by the operator's foot.

If you're not familiar, here is a classic Singer treadle cabinet, which is no way big enough for the purposes of this story, so please exercise your imagination 😉

Joel hovers outside the Jackson Grocer’s, arms crossed, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible in front of the leafy display of butter lettuce heads.

It’s been a few months since he’s settled in, but sometimes he can’t get over how fucking nuts this place is. Looking at the shelves brimming with fresh fruits and vegetables outside, canned food and home goods inside, he could easily be standing outside the 24/7 mart in his old neighbourhood. There are even shopping baskets, for crying out loud - stacked neatly one on top of the other by the door.

A voice pipes up from his left. ‘Didn’t know you ate greens.’

Joel scowls. ‘I don’t.’

‘Why are you loiterin’, then?’ asks Tommy, picking up a couple of apples and examining them with exaggerated care.

‘I’m not loiterin’,’ he spits out the last word as if he’s above it, turning his gaze to the high street.

Tommy tosses him a cocky grin, head tilted at a knowing angle. ‘Yeah, you are. And now you’re makin’ eyes at Bob. It’s disturbin’.’

Glancing across the main thoroughfare at the welder’s shop, where the said proprietor is cutting up wooden planks on the porch, Joel grumbles sarcastically, ‘That’s right. Bob is just my type.’

At that very moment, right next to Bob's, the door of Main Street Outfitters creaks open, and Joel recognises Lucy instantly as she sneaks out on tiptoes. She skips down the stairs and wanders up the street in what appears to be another impromptu work break.

Joel’s already taken two steps towards the shop before he remembers that he’s not alone. Braking abruptly and bringing up one hand to scratch the back of his neck, he feels Tommy’s eyes on him.

He half-turns, and snaps, ‘What?’

The younger Miller brother shrugs, pursing his lips thoughtfully. ‘Why are you going to the Outfitters again? Didn’t you just get those new jeans a couple of weeks ago?’

‘Thought I’d get a new shirt for your stupid baby shower.’

‘Joel -’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He throws his hands up in capitulation. ‘Baby showers are not stupid. Especially in the middle of an apocalypse.’

Taking another two steps forward, a thought stops him dead in his tracks again. He can practically feel Tommy smiling smugly at his back.

For fuck’s sake.

He doesn’t turn around this time, jamming his hands into his pockets and asks, ‘Can I bring someone? To the party?’

‘We know Ellie’s comin’.’

Whipping around, he growls, ‘Tommy -’

He laughs. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. Joel Miller makin’ friends in town? Maria’s right - you’re fittin’ right in, big brother.’

Rolling his eyes, Joel flips him off and stomps his way across the street.

Tommy calls out at his retreating back. ‘Say hello to Pin and tell her we’d love to have her come over on Sunday!’

When he steps inside, the shop is as empty as it was a fortnight ago. Joel shuts the door firmly, making sure the bell jingles, so his entry doesn’t go unnoticed.

Your voice, though muffled, comes promptly. ‘Lucy! Is that you?’

He heads towards the doorway that leads to the workshop. ‘It’s Joel, actually.’

‘Oh, shit!’

His eyebrows reach for his hairline - you don’t seem to be the type to curse. Concerned, he asks, ‘You alright back there?’

There’s a touch of panic in your reply, ‘Don’t come back here. Did Lucy sneak out again?’

On your instruction, Joel hesitates in the middle of the room, talking to air. ‘Yeah, saw her leave a couple of minutes ago.’

‘Goddamnit, Lucy!’

He shuffles his feet awkwardly. ‘Uh, you sure you’re ok? Should I come back later?’

There’s a resigned sigh, then a pause. ‘Promise you won’t laugh.’

One end of his lips tugs upwards in a smile. ‘Why would I?’

‘Promise.’

At your insistence, he humours you, ‘Alright, I promise, sweetheart.’

‘Come on back.’

When he steps into the workshop, he doesn’t spot you immediately. The space is seemingly empty, everything standing still and in order. He sweeps his eyes across the room, starting with the shelving unit and the desk along the near wall, then trailing over the large timber work table in the middle, where a stack of folded shirts stands neatly.

His throat isn’t the only thing that tightens when he glances at the rug under the skylight -

‘Joel?’

Your voice draws his attention to the far corner of the room, where a sewing station is tucked into a little alcove.

Joel doesn’t know much about sewing machines, but he can recognise a vintage Singer anywhere even without the name blazoned across its elegant body. His grandmother had one in her drawing room by a sunny bay window, and he used to watch her work on it when he visited every other weekend. For a disorienting second, he can almost smell homemade cinnamon rolls and black tea.

Little did he know that things were about to get a lot more disorienting than a pleasant childhood memory.

As he steps around the work table, the rest of the sewing station comes into view, fronted by a big window, the light streaming through the glass glancing off the black sewing machine on top of a classic treadle cabinet. What looks like a half-finished dress lies on the wooden work surface, which stands on quintessential wrought metal legs, and between them - his throat constricts with a slow swallow when he realises what - or rather, who - he’s looking at.

The words barely come out, as if his tongue is suddenly too big for his mouth, as he makes his presence known. ‘I’m here, sweetheart.’

To be fair, you’re not making things easy by any means. All he can see is your backside hovering in mid-air, the rest of you out of sight under the desk. It has built-in cabinets on each end, the right side of it backed up against the far wall, and a chair is pushed to the side.

Joel stops two measured paces away, staring down at the curve of your ass and the way your top rides up, baring the small of your back. His eyes linger on the soft skin between the shirt’s hem and the waistband of your very tight jeans.

Jesus Christ. Do you always have to be on your fucking knees in this workshop?

Your small voice jolts him from his daze. ‘Well, at least you’re not laughing.’

He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from scoffing. If only you knew how laughing is the furthest thing on his mind right now. ‘What happened?’

‘A spool rolled off and I went down to get it, but I fell on the treadle accidentally - I think my shirt is snagged in the band wheel. I can’t move at all, and this Singer is an antique - I can't risk breaking it.’

Unfamiliar with what you’re talking about, he probes, ‘And where’s the band wheel?’

‘Under the table, on my right.’

You wriggle your hips, perhaps to help him locate where you’re stuck, unaware that you’re not helping. At all.

He swallows thickly and implores you, ‘Stay still, sweetheart. I’ll take a look.’

It’s been two whole weeks since Joel Miller came into the shop. You’ve caught glimpses of him in between - Jackson is tiny, after all. He catches your eye as he ambles down the high street with Ellie, his gruff Southern accent carrying even in the mid-afternoon bustle, too preoccupied arguing with the teenager to notice you on the other side of the road. He’s in the cafeteria a couple of times when you arrive for a late dinner, nodding at you from a few tables over, while you work up the nerve to smile back.

Every time, he’s wearing the jeans you handpicked for him, which makes your chest swell and constrict at the same time with something like - pride.

You picked out the pair for him. You assured him that he looks good. And by the way he’s wearing his confidence on his sleeve, he’s certainly taken your words to heart.

Whenever you see other women eyeing him as he struts about town - which is entirely too often - it awakens an ugly possessiveness in you, one that twists your insides into grotesque balloon animals.

Fourteen damn days. Even in the privacy of your workshop, you can’t escape that man. The simple touch of denim provokes a visceral reaction from you, heat chases beneath your skin every time you pick up the tailor’s scissors. It doesn’t help that most of your daily tasks are not exactly cerebral, which gives this man all the more leeway to lay claim to your subconscious.

If you believed in magic, you would've thought you summoned him with the sheer energy you’ve spent thinking about him. But what kind of witchcraft conjured him up at the precise moment you get trapped like the bumbling idiot that you are?

One minute you’re reaching for the stupid thread, the next thing you know, you’re stuck, unable to move without the mechanisms of the antique Singer groaning ominously at your attempts to free yourself.

But maybe, it’s still better than Lucy finding you. She’d take a hammer to the sewing machine to get you out, no question - patience is not her strong suit - and she’d be laughing at you for days.

You hear the floorboards give behind you as Joel moves into the space, which isn’t much - when you’re sat down at the treadle cabinet, the wall is barely two steps behind.

The wooden table creaks above you as he braces one hand on the surface, and you startle at what sounds like the vicious crack of a vertebra.

‘Um - you okay?’

Joel grunts. ‘I’ll live.’

So you wait, thinking absent-mindedly how your elbows are starting to get numb. There’s a scruff of boots and what sounds like a brief struggle, before Joel sighs. ‘Back’s too stiff ‘mfraid. Gotta get on the floor to see underneath.’

Before you can squeak out a reply, there’s a boney click of what you presume is his knees as he crouches down, and an unexpected brush of denim on your left ankle surprises you. Forgetting where you are, you jump in reflex, hitting the underside of the table so hard that you screech in pain.

‘Shit!’ Joel cusses behind you, one warm hand landing on the side of your hip to steady you. ‘You ok?’

Up until this point, you’ve been too consumed with embarrassment by your predicament to even think about the position Joel found you in. But once the warm imprint of his palm registers through the denim, it hits you like one of those interstate trucks that you used to see out of your window.

You’re leaning on your forearms, ass in the air, and now - he’s behind you, getting onto his knees. You can’t decide if the back of your head or your pussy is throbbing harder as you stutter, ‘I’m fine, just - get me out, please.’

‘Alright, hang on, sweetheart.’

You swallow the childish urge to stamp your foot. He has no right going around dropping sweethearts all over the place.

There’s a throaty exhale as Joel lowers himself onto the floor, his knees bracketing yours to shift closer to you. You know he feels the shudder that chases down your spine when soft flannel grazes your bare back, heat spilling from his solid frame as he looms over you.

‘You say you’re stuck in the band wheel?’

Somehow, you manage to answer, ‘Yeah, to my right.’

He clears his throat. ‘I - uh - I’ll have to lean down pretty close to you to take a look, is that ok?’

You feel all the air leave your body, which is probably why your reply comes out far breathier than you intend it to. ‘Yes, Joel.’

And with those two words, Joel has a problem with his jeans. Again.

They’re too tight. Again.

There’s nothing he can do as his mouth goes dry and his cock hardens with a vengeance, his self-control slipping like sand between his fingers.

He was doing so good - well, he was more or less holding it together, as much as he could be expected to while kneeling behind you. And of course, his damn knees hurt, but so does his bottom lip which is caught in his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing when his heart threatens to beat right out of his chest.

He already has one hand on you, and goddamnit, it’s taking him all he’s got to hold back from gripping you with his other, to grasp the swell of your ass between his palms, to trace your curves up to the dip of your exposed waist, to bow his head and run his tongue along the arc of your spine -

And the jeans you’re wearing - fuck, they’re tight. He wonders idly if you wore them for him. His eyes follow the seam that runs down the cleft of your ass, the way the pockets stretch over your backside has his fingers twitching, thinking about how well you will fill his hands, and how the slow rub of denim will burn his skin.

He wants to hook his thumbs into the belt loops and pull you flush against the zipper of his jeans, where his cock is straining against - rub himself on you, grind on you, his thighs plastered to the back of yours -

‘Joel?’

Fuck.

He sways as he snaps out of his stupor, dangerously close to knocking into you, light-headed from the lack of blood to his brain. He chokes out, ‘Yeah, I got you, sweetheart.’

Get it together, you dirty bastard.

He’s careful to leave a couple of inches between his front and your ass when he bends his elbows and ducks so he can peer beneath the desk. His chest pressed flat against your lower back, he can see the bunched fabric of your shirt where it’s caught.

‘Yup, you’re right, your shirt is snagged tight in there.’

‘Can you untangle it?’

‘Think so, but I’ll need both hands.’ He pauses. ‘I’d better get on my back under you.’

You swear you’re going to black out.

‘Pin?’ he prompts when you’ve been quiet a beat too long.

‘I - um, what do you mean by going under me?’

‘If I’m on my back, I can use both my hands, like a mechanic under a car,’ he explains. ‘If you’re uncomfortable, I can find another way -’

‘No!’ you blurt out, wincing at the desperation in your tone. ‘I mean - whatever is easiest for you. You’re the one doing me a favour here.’

‘Alright,’ he says, placated by your reassurance. ‘On your hands and knees then, sweetheart.’

Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. Oh, come on. Can he hear himself?

Scraping together your last vestiges of control, you push up on your palms to make space underneath you. You have to consciously lock your elbows - your joints suddenly feel like barely set pudding.

‘Move as far to your right as possible so I can slide in.’

Shuffling on your hands and knees until you’re pressed up against the band wheel, you hear the brush of fabric on wood - must be his back against the floorboards as he slides in. To say it’s a squeeze is an understatement. His broad shoulders brush the front of your thighs as he inches in, and then, his face appears under yours, head between your hands.

His lips quirk. ‘Hi, sweetheart.’

Your breath hitches at his proximity, your wrists brushing the soft red flannel he’s wearing today. ‘Hi.’

‘You ok?’ he asks.

You’re this close to pouting. What does he think? There’s a telltale stickiness between your legs that you’re frantically trying to push to the back of your mind while you mmhmm noncommittally, hoping that he doesn’t smell your want in the tiny, claustrophobic space you’re now both caught in.

You can only assume that he’s none the wiser, since the next thing that comes of his mouth is -

‘Climb on top of me so I can slide in closer to the band wheel.’

Someone might as well say your last rites. This is the end.

You’re taken aback when your limbs start to move on autopilot, because your faculties have well and truly abandoned ship. One trembling leg attempts to swing itself over the solid breadth of his body, but it wobbles like jelly, and your knee ends up connecting firmly with his stomach instead of landing clear on his other side.

At his grunted oomph, you panic and bang your head on the underside of the table again, which sends your whole weight sprawling onto his front with a yelp.

Joel cradles the back of your scalp with one hand. ‘Shit, you ok, sweetheart?’

The seams of your lashes sting, your head smarting with the impact, and you blink drily as your gaze focuses on Joel under you. He’s so close that you can see flecks of gold in his brown eyes, his breath hitting your face in warm puffs. Your glance at his lips, and with that one little motion, all goes quiet.

He watches you back, neither of you breathing, and in the stillness you realise that you’re fully straddling him, your palms pressing into the hard floor on either side of his ears. Your tits are crushed up against his ribs, his soft tummy warmly cushioned under you. Lower still, where your hips are nestled into the spread of his thick thighs, something stiff and long and insistent presses into you -

Your jaw goes slack when it dawns on you.

Oh god.

He’s hard.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Joel breaks the silence, a pained frown on his brow as he shakes his head. ‘This is embarrassin’. Couldn’t fuckin’ help it, seein’ you in those jeans -’

Tongue-tied, you can only stare at him, wishing you were brave enough to say something. Tell him that you pulled extra shifts to buy this particular pair of jeans, knowing that they flatter your figure. That you’ve worn them almost every day these two weeks, hoping that he’d swing by again.

But you can’t.

So you pray that he can see what you can’t say by the way you’re looking at him, by the way your heart races wildly in your ribcage against his chest.

His voice cracks. ‘I understand if you want me to go -’

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and cut in, ‘Don’t.’

His warm eyes widen, something like hopefulness in the way he looks up at you. ‘You don’t want me to go?’

You press your body closer into his, filling in the gaps. ‘No. Please don’t, Joel.’

He leans forward, so close that you can feel the phantom burn of his silvered beard, his palms finding the meat of your legs, blunt nails biting into the denim.

He really should be ashamed of himself, at the way his cock pulses unabashedly, nudged right between your thighs as you stare down at him, lips parted. He’s hard enough that he worries if there’s a wet spot of precum on the front of his jeans - he can feel himself leaking through his boxers.

The wicked tip of your tongue traces a wet trail on your bottom lip, and he almost chokes on a half-buried groan deep in his chest. He knows that you don’t even know you’re doing it - and in turn, what that does to him.

It would be easy to close the two-inch gap between you. To kiss you, taste you, lick into your sweet mouth. All he needs to do is to cup the back of your head and pull you down, or crane his neck and press his lips to yours -

And Joel is someone who always follows the path of least resistance.

But - he wants to do right by you. He knows you deserve more than a quick fumble under a table.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Joel steels himself and brushes a chaste thumb over your cheekbone. ‘Let’s get you out of here, and then we can talk, ok?’

It’s almost perverse the way his chest warms at the flicker of disappointment in your eyes as you give a reluctant nod, ‘Ok. Please be careful, the Singer’s really delicate.’

It’s hard to focus - his attention keeps drifting to how snugly you fit into his chest, between his arms, and it’s not a stretch to imagine a soft mattress underneath his back. It's funny how quickly his body has adjusted to creature comforts after months of sleeping on the cold winter ground.

Joel’s mindful that an antique sewing machine will be a pain in the ass to repair without the requisite parts, so he moves carefully, gently coaxing the band wheel back and forth to see how he can extract you. It doesn’t take long to loosen the grip of the metal teeth on your shirt, but he has to reach up and untangle the threads snagged into the mechanisms one by one.

He muses idly that this is not his method. These hands of his, with crooked knuckles that never healed right, where many a dagger, knife, gun, rifle have found a home - they break things, people.

When was the last time someone asked gentleness of him?

He wants to scoff. That’s not what he’s good for.

Despite himself, his throat rumbles with a hum of satisfaction when the band wheel finally lets go of your shirt, the Singer whirring to life as it spins freely. He gives you a lopsided smile. ‘There you go, sweetheart.’

You smile, but don’t seem to be in a hurry to move, which pleases him. He likes looking at you from this angle, relishing in your weight on him. He takes his time running his eyes over your face, his palms coming to rest on your knees.

You duck your head prettily. ‘Thank you, Joel.'

He gives you a playful shrug. ‘Well, I owed you one for these jeans.’

You roll your eyes in good humour. ‘Actually, I told you specifically that you didn’t.’

Joel basks in the lighthearted turn in the conversation, egging you on, ‘Well, in that case, you owe me one for this instead.’

‘That’s hardly fair -’ you chide him, punching him in the shoulder in a half-hearted rebuke.

Taking the opportunity, he grabs you by the wrist, the contact prompting a bodily shudder from you that he doesn’t miss. He smirks, ‘M’fraid I don’t play fair, sweetheart.’

You glare at him in mock sternness, bold enough to demand, ‘Fine - what do you want then, Joel Miller?’

For a split second, he hesitates, woefully out of practice at whatever it is that he’s about to do. Swallowing his self-doubt, he asks, ‘Tommy and Maria are throwing a baby shower on Sunday at their house - do you want to come?’

Your shoulders stiffen. Now, that you were not expecting. Your social anxiety bubbles between your ribs and looms over you like a spector. You sputter, ‘Um, I -’

You start when his fingers draw soothing circles on the top of your knees, as if seeing straight through the source of your apprehension. He reassures you, ‘Lucy is welcome to join too. The more the merrier.’

Your eyes soften. ‘Ok. I’d love to.’

The endearing way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles has you swaying towards him, his nose just brushing the side of yours - when the doorbell rings, cutting through the loaded silence.

In your haste to sit up, you knock your head against the table for a third time.

‘Ow!’ you cry. Even Joel flinches at the hard hit.

Lucy calls out, sounding dangerously close. ‘Pin? You ok, hon?’

‘Shit!’ You start scrambling backwards, bent over awkwardly, convinced that you’re one more blow away from a concussion. You’ve barely scrambled onto your feet when Lucy steps into the workshop, the world tilting on its axis for a moment as blood rushes to your brain.

She watches in amusement as Joel drags himself from under the sewing station, head cocked to one side. ‘Hi again, stranger. You really like our shop, don’t you?’

His shirt is rumpled from where you sat on him, bits of his curls sticking up. He rubs the back of his neck, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘I just swung by to, uh, invite you and Pin to the baby shower. Tommy and Maria’s. This Sunday.’

Lucy crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow. ‘And it’s a tradition where you’re from to talk about weekend plans under a table?’

You narrow your eyes at her. ‘Luce -’

She winks. ‘You know what? I don’t need to know the gory details - but I’m in. See you Sunday, Miller!’

Joel huffs a chuckle as Lucy disappears into the front of the shop, leaving you two alone. You smile, suddenly shy for no reason, twining your fingers to stop from fidgeting. ‘Thanks again, Joel.’

He shrugs it off, a touch of boldness in the way he stands, hands in pockets, hips cocked. ‘Pleasure was all mine, sweetheart.’

Instead of heading in the direction of the door, he takes two long strides towards you, leaning down to murmur in your ear, ‘Wear those jeans for me again on Sunday?’

Stunned, you gape at him as he turns with a crooked grin and walks off, dispatching a two-fingered salute at Lucy as he goes. Pausing by the threshold, Joel gives you one last wink that has your breath stuttering - but you only allow yourself to sag against the wall when the door closes behind him, your knees giving.

Lucy wastes no time skipping back into the workshop, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. ‘Alright, time to raid the party clothes rack, girl!’

You laugh - Sunday can’t come fast enough.

Notes: I had the best time writing this chapter - it was fun to flip the tables on Pin, not that Joel comes out completely unscathed!

I definitely have ✨ideas✨ for these two, but I'm enjoying keeping things loose, so I have no plans to turn this into a full-blown series just yet. I hope you enjoyed this instalment, comments/reblogs/asks are so so appreciated as always ❤️

#fuckyeahseams #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader

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woofwof21 · 20 days

Text

COZY NIGHTS/CHRIS STURN

hii this feels so weird and it's like my first time here on tumblr so yeah im sweating LMFAO

anyway uhm i hope im not as bad as i think i guess?

warnings?: fluff, hinting at nsfw stuff, got dressed infront of her but nothing more, use of y/n ig

already eight minutes past midnight on a saturday night and im sitting on my boyfriend's soft comforter, his big white pillows supporting my back as my eyes follow haley dunphy's steps into the kitchen on the screen of my phone. the faint noises of water hitting skin and shower floor is to hear through the door of the connected bathroom along with occasional soft, deep throated hums of chris' to some melody in his head aswell as my amused giggles everytime a good joke landed in my series.

after some time the water had stopped and eventually he comes out of the bathroom with a warm grin, already happy to see my face again.

"heyy baby", he whispers to me with a slight rasp in his voice as he leans down to press a kiss on my temple. i shoot him a quick smile before just turning back to my phone, my pastel pink earbuds muffling his words for me not to even notice them.

chris takes his steps over to his closet, letting the white towel fall to the floor in order for him to pull his soft sweatpants over his legs.

"i already told you like a gazillion times, babe, you don't need to use your cute little earbuds when you're in my room!", he retorts with a faint smirk, a little louder this time in order for me to hear, while quickly slipping through the holes of one of his black t-shirts.

i glance back over to him, taking one of them out of my ears as a huge grin forms on my lips, building up to a chuckle. "i like wearing them!! get's the sound closer to my brain!", i explain in defense for myself as another chuckle escapes my lips.

he just continues to grin at me. that cute but also sooo slutty grin, showing all his teeth. one side lifted up wider than the other, making my heart melt and my thighs tighten all at once.

chris walks back over to me, climbing onto his bed right next to me and immediately sliding his arm over my shoulders to pull my closer to his chest and press a kiss onto my temple once again.

he leans his forehead against mine, his lips close to my ear for him to whisper while his thumb rubs circles on my bare shoulder "i also remember telling you to just use my tv if you wanna watch stuff. don't want your pretty little eyes turn into big squares, hmm princess?"

the smirk returns back on his lips as he watches my cheeks turn a shade pinker at his soothing tone and silly partially unaware flirtyness. the furthest i respond is with a loving smile, which he quickly returns as his smirk softens up into a huge grin.

he squeezes me tightly to him, chest against chest, and lays me fully down onto the mattress while growling

"rrrghhh you're so cute baby!"

i stare into his lovestruck eyes, giggling a bit shyly at his affection towards me before just blankly staring.

chris stares back at her for only a few seconds before leaning down to press lots of loving little kisses on my soft cheek causing me to scrunch my face up a little, my eyes squeezing shut while more and more quiet laughs escape my throat.

"okay! okay! stop it chris! stop it!", i exclaim amused while my hands put pressure onto his chest to try and get him to back off.

he does as told and leans away, still gazing into my eyes with his fully blown out pupils and that stupid grin he couldn't hide whenever he was around me "sorry y/n, just really missed you", he mumbles while his fingers graze my forehead when brushing some strands of my hair out of my face.

"in the shower?", i retort with a laugh at his silly affectionate self towards me.

chris can't hold back the faint blush that paints his cheeks from the slight embarrassment i caused him but he brushes it off with a cheeky smirk as he leans back forward towards me and mumbles in a flirtitious tone "you better join next time" before pressing his soft, deep pink lips onto mine.

EEEK i hope no one sees this actually fuck off 🤗

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #y/n #chris sturniolo x reader

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asliceofzosan · 3 months

Text

Sanji is a lightweight.

He can't hold his liquor for shit despite his failed attempts to hide it from everyone else. The signs are obvious — the flushed cheeks, the hooded eyes, and the constant smile on his face that remains even if he's not talking to a lady. He prances around the room, socializing and laughing at every little thing, from the cool summer breeze tickling his cheeks to Usopp's tamest of wild stories.

He's also very physically affectionate. When he'd usually reject a hug from Luffy's impossibly long outstretched arms, intoxicated Sanji would welcome the embrace with glee. Chopper is rained with little kisses on his head every time he does anything remarkably cute (which is all the time). And he's seen playing with Robin's fingers absentmindedly as he listens to her talk about the ancient history of a forgotten world.

But there's also one thing Sanji becomes when he's had one too many drinks in his system...

He gets... honest.

Sanji on a normal day is blunt and calculated. He calls things out as he sees it yet still knows how to use his words to twist something to his advantage. Like how he knows how to appease Luffy when he gets adamant over food. Or how he somehow convinces Usopp to do something he'd normally be too afraid to do.

Drunk Sanji is a different kind of honest. Drunk Sanji is honest about things he never even utters if he was even a lick sober.

And Zoro? Oh, he's always been the one to bare witness to Sanji's honesty.

Zoro likes to think of himself as an honest man. He can omit the truth every now and then for someone's safety or to preserve their blissful ignorance, but most of the time he doesn't see any reason to lie. If he finds you annoying, he'll say it. To hell with your damn feelings about it.

But though he values honesty and trust, he sure can hide the truth. Because his own feelings take the back burner. He can't be emotionally charged when lives are on the line. He can't let his heart win out when his brain tells him it's a bad idea. He can trust a gut feeling but never the tug of his own heartstrings.

So witnessing Sanji's honesty — so rooted in the tresses of his stupidly big emotional heart — always has Zoro freezing in place. He can't handle it. But he can't push him away either.

He can hide his true feelings but by all four seas, he can't ever push them far enough away for him to ignore them.

For the embarrassing truth of it all is that every time Sanji looks at him, smiles at him, laughs with him, or even fights with him — Zoro is irrevocably, unequivocally, and detrimentally smitten with the curly browed cook.

He doesn't remember when (somewhere between Little Garden and Thriller Bark... who knows, really...) but he definitely remembers waking up one day and wanting to see Sanji first thing in the morning. He remembers the rapid beating of his heart when the man prepared his comfort dishes when Zoro was having a rough day. He remembers the sparks of electric fire seeping to his bones from a single touch, a brush of fingertips against his scalp with a whispered 'you need a haircut marimo', the ice cold chill that runs down his spine of watching this stupid blonde man attempt to sacrifice his life over and over again to save his friends. All these feelings he remembers and dreads and looks forward to all at the same time.

All come crashing down upon him until he's stuck beneath a mountain of untapped, unrealized, unacknowledged feelings — all because Sanji decided that for today's party he will hold Zoro's hand, and guide him to the galley so they could be alone.

Alone.

"Marimoooo," Sanji sings, a light giggle cutting off the prolonged syllable, and Zoro has to actively remember not to crumble. He grips the edge of the kitchen counter, his knuckle turning white, with the other hand desperately clinging to a cheap bottle of sake.

"Auditioning for a musical, cook?" Zoro teases and Sanji sticks his tongue out at him. Zoro, despite all he's holding back, allows himself to chuckle.

"Shut the fudge up, dumb green haired muscle head doofus." (New note: when drunk enough, Sanji physically cannot swear.) He jabs a finger at Zoro's chest, unaware of the invisible mark he's left on his heart. "I wanted to tell you something, stupid."

"Can't it wait until you're sober and can kick my ass properly?" Zoro's deflecting and he damn well knows it. But Drunk Sanji is so unfairly adorable that if he lets him talk more, he might do something Sober Sanji would hate him for forever.

"I donwanna kick your ass!" Sanji throws his hands up exasperatedly. "No no no no thas' not important..."

"What could possibly–" When Zoro chanced a glance at Sanji, he stopped mid sentence. Hooded blue eyes were gazing at him intensely, an ocean of possibilities, a high tide of emotions washing onto the shore. Zoro can't look away. He wants to. He needs to. But he can't. Like a capsized ship at the edge of a whirlpool, Sanji's gaze sucks Zoro in with no pause for mercy.

Mercy that Zoro refuses to call out for.

"Zoro," He says it with a low tone, a soft voice, and with a breathiness he's never heard his name be uttered through before.

He feels Sanji's hand on top of his own before he could let go of the counter. He looks down and the man is tracing his scars. The ones faded overtime and the ones that are freshly closed over. There's a band-aid on his thumb that he's forgotten to remove from a week ago. Sanji's own delicate but kitchen worn fingers run over his knuckles. Each feather light touch sends electric shocks through his veins, a rushing heat that no shot of alcohol could recreate.

Zoro, despite everything his mind is telling him to do, turns his hand over and lets Sanji slip his fingers through and press their palms together.

They're closer now. He doesn't remember when that happened. But Sanji's face is so close, he could count the eyelashes fluttering gently between wakefulness and dreaming if he wanted to. He desperately did. Instead, his other hand raised up to cup Sanji's ever alcohol flushed cheeks, and feels his heart burst with the gentle smile Sanji gives him in return.

"Did you know?" Sanji whispers, thumb rubbing over a particularly nasty scar on the back of Zoro's hand.

"What?" Zoro indulges him. Just this once. "What don't I know?"

Sanji's smile brightens. He rests a hand on Zoro's chest. He feels Zoro's beating heart beneath his palm. Then he looks up, eyes twinkling with a simple but powerful emotion. Zoro's only seen him look like that once before. Back when it was just the five of them from the East Blue, their borrowed ship from Syrup Village, and their feet on a barrel promising to achieve their dreams.

Pure and utter joy.

"Did you know... that I'm so happy that you're my friend?"

Zoro's breath hitches and Sanji hiccups, sudden tears flowing down his cheeks. He doesn't attempt to hide them or wipe them away. Zoro feels them fall onto his chest as he watches Sanji cry with the biggest smile on his face.

"You're the first friend I had that was my age," He continued, bringing Zoro's hand up and nuzzling against his palm. "I never had friends growing up. Was surrounded by old geezers telling me what to do half the time. Joining the crew... This is the best decision I ever made."

Then a faint kiss was placed on every scar Sanji could see on Zoro's hand. Piece by piece, Zoro's resolve crumbled, and he felt tears prickle at the corner of his eye.

"You're my best friend, Zoro. Did I tell you that?"

"No," Zoro whispered. He takes Sanji's other hand and kisses the rough pads of his fingertips too. Sanji watches him, mouth slightly open in a dazed smile. Zoro wonders if he'll remember this in the morning.

"Why haven't I?" Sanji asks him, or perhaps wonders aloud. Zoro just shrugs and keeps kissing up Sanji's hand. With each kiss, Sanji lets out a sigh, gentle and inviting. Zoro chooses not to answer.

"I love having friends," Sanji says stumbling forward slightly at Zoro's ministrations. Zoro catches him before he falls and Sanji throws his arms around him, clutching tightly and giggling so much that he's almost losing breath. "I love having you in my life."

A tear falls down Zoro's cheek. He tightens his hold around the cook and thinks the exact same thing.

Sanji burrows his face into Zoro's shoulder, hiccuping again. "Can we stay like this for a little while?"

"We can stay like this forever, if you want." Like this as in always by your side. Like this as in holding you every time you ask for it. Like this as in who we can be if alcohol didn't make you forget everything you say to me.

"I have to cook tomorrow though." was Sanji's brilliant response and Zoro couldn't help but laugh. He's waited this long for something like this. He can wait until morning for a conversation a little more serious.

"Yeah, cook." Zoro obliges, leading Sanji to the cushioned bench by the dinner table. "We can stay like this for a little while."

"Yay," Sanji cheers softly, his voice already starting to slur. Zoro lets him rest his head on his chest as he curls up and around Zoro like a koala. "Warm."

Time moves by slowly. Zoro's fingers run through silky blond hair as they talk about silly insignificant things. Sanji's giggles get softer and softer. His breathing evens out. Soon enough, Sanji's eyelids have closed and he's sleeping soundly, clinging as tightly as his unconscious body permits onto the swordsman.

Zoro knows that when morning comes, they'll have to talk. But for now, Zoro allows himself to bask in the warmth of Sanji's honesty. Allows himself to let Sanji's genuine gratitude of meeting and joining the straw hat crew wash over him like the gentlest of cool sea breezes after a long and hot day.

And he can be assured, as he drifts off into his own slumber, that Sanji loves him.

And that Zoro loves him too.

inspired by this tweet

#welcome back to the chronicles of niki writing zosan brainrot at 1am and posting it with no context whatsoever #anyway #zosan #one piece #roronoa zoro #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #zosan fanfic #one piece fanfiction #roronoa zoro x vinsmoke sanji #niki's fic: lightweight love and liquor

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sataraxia · 10 months

Text

jerk.

earth42!miles x fem!reader

summary: you haven't heard about him for a whole week, what a 'jerk'. (wc: 3.9 k, kinda short and a dumb blurb)

warnings: cursing, a kind of suggestive? line at the end.

a/n: it's the first time i publish something so maybe it's kinda bad idk, and also this isn't angst miles is actually the best man ever pls i just wanna hug him. aand english isn't my first language so pls pls let me know if i spelled something wrong!

"I heard that kiki was invited to prom in the most romantic way possible, I'm so jealous."

"oh god, yeah, I wish I had a boyfriend like hers, or well, just a boyfriend".

You were biting your nails right now, looking everywhere but at your friends, what a topic, huh?

“hey, your boyfriend already invited you?”

And there was the question, you just looked lazily at them “uh, sure”

The truth was that you hadn't been talking to Miles for a week or so, and this was exactly why.

You always understood that maybe he didn't like a lot of things about high school, and you never complained about it, but this time, it was something important to you, and he didn't seem to care.

"baby, it's just a dance, I don't understand why you're acting like it's such a big deal." he said while not even looking at your direction.

"maybe it's a big deal that you're being a jerk about this."

Yeah, that conversation didn't end well, you haven't heard from him since.

The thing was, you don't do a lot of couple things publicly, and it's slowly starting to affect your mind, maybe he didn't want to be seen with you, or someone couldn't see him with you, the thought alone causing you to shiver.

You spent the rest of the day distracting yourself with your friends and your homework, secretly waiting for a message from him to appear on your phone.

It did, but definitely not what you expected.

miles <4: 'i’m back in town, wyd?'

Oh.

You didn't know whether to be happy that he wasn't ignoring you, or angry that he didn't give the last discussion more than a thought.

You decided not to let it go this time, and not even look at the text.

Of course, that was stupid, but so were you.

It wasn't more than two hours, he was already knocking on your window, and once you let him in, he just looked at you, deeply.

“wanna’ tell me what’s up with you, darling?”

That was not affectionate, he was annoyed, mocking, you realize.

“nothing.” you couldn’t look at him when you were lying, he knew that.

“i thought you were the one who opted for that communication bullshit, cmon.”

“where were you?”

“work” the tone was defensive, almost secretive, it was always like that when he mentioned something about the prowler, you never talked a lot about it.

“you could have told me”

“thought you didn't want a jerk talking to you?”

“yeah, but you’re still my boyfriend, Miles, we argued, and I didn't hear about you for a whole week.”

“sorry.”

That's what made your veins boil the most, he was never mean, disrespectful, or a jerk.

He always knew when to say sorry or when he had done the wrong thing, that meant he didn't really care about the problem that kept popping into your head, he didn't see it like a problem at all.

And that only made you feel dumber, maybe you were overreacting, again.

“it’s okay, i just missed you”

That's all you had to say for him to look at you with those eyes that made you feel like the most special woman on earth, that made any insecurity disappear just as the space between your bodies did.

“i missed you too.”

Of course, he stayed the whole night with you.

The next afternoon, when you entered your room, you saw a package on your bed, with a note on top of it

“I couldn't go to prom if my girl wasn't wearing my color, be at your door by eight o'clock.

luv ya, miles.”

Inside the package was a beautiful dress, vibrant purple, obviously.

This was definitely the man of your dreams.

+bonus:

Eight o'clock, and he was with his motorcycle at your door.

"you are breathtaking, love" he said and you approached him to give him just a little kiss, while smiling.

"thanks for all this, but I thought it wasn't a big deal?" a smirk adorned your face.

"it was a big deal if you were calling me a jerk about it" you grabbed his waist as you settled on the bike.

"sorry about that." a little peck on the cheek.

"you'll have time to apologize to me, don't worry:"

#writing #writers on tumblr #oneshots #across the spiderverse #miles g morales #miles morales #miles 42 #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader #the prowler #miles the prowler #miles morales x y/n #sataraxia

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

Text

Sharks II

Meadema x Child!Reader

Summary: You get comfortable with Viv

You're used to having Viv in your house now. She's always there and she sleeps in bed with Mummy a lot and helps you through your morning routine every day.

She makes sure to hang out with you away from Mummy too, like that time that she took you to the big maze store that she called IKEA and you called stupid.

She bought you a new shark toy she called the Blåhaj shark but you corrected her to a Blue Shark.

You love having Viv around (though there's a name floating in your head for her that's definitely not Viv) but you're still happy to have your alone time with Mummy.

Viv's out with some of her friends so Mummy's propped you up on her lap and is reading you a story book.

"Mummy," You say," That's not English." You point at the words.

She smiles at you. "That's right," She says," That's Dutch."

"Dutch," You repeat," Like Viv."

"Like Viv. We're both going to be studying a bit of Dutch so Viv can feel more at home."

"Because she's from Dutch?"

"The Netherlands," Mummy corrects," And yes."

You think for a moment. The story book looks fun and has English and Dutch in it so you still understand it. "Okay," You say," We learn Dutch for Viv."

Mummy presses a kiss to your head as she turns the page and helps you sound out the words.

●～●～●～●～

Viv takes you to the aquarium on her next day off. Mummy would have come with too but she was busy with Auntie Leah and Auntie Katie so it's just you and Viv.

She got you dressed this morning - your favourite shark t-shirt and a pair of shorts before bundling you into her arms and heading to the train station.

"Cool," You say, making sure to keep a tight hold of Viv's hand because Mummy always says you have to hold an adult's hand when you're out.

There's a bit of the aquarium that's just clear glass on the floor looking into one of the tanks and you spend so much time standing on it that Viv gets a little worried that you think that's all there is.

"Come on, liefje," She says," Let's keep going. There's more to see."

You let her pull you along happily.

Ma-Viv shows you lots of different fishies and is more than happy to crouch next to you and read off the little placards by the tanks. She's pleasantly surprised when you ask her to translate it into Dutch.

"That's a Sand Tiger Shark," You say as you point up to the big tank," They like to hunt at night."

"That's very interesting, liefje," Ma-Viv says, pointing at another shark floating along the bottom," What about that one?"

You study it for a moment, head tilted to the side as you watch it. "Nurse shark! They have moustaches that are actually taste buds!"

Ma-Viv smiles at you, an affectionate hand running over your head. "Come on," She pulls you along to one of the walkways near the end.

You wander closer to one of those electronic screens that has buttons to choose your answers on it.

You can read your little story books at home (both in English and Dutch now) but this is a little too advanced to you so you tug on Mama's hand to get her attention.

"Read please," You tell her.

It's a little quiz on sharks with multiple choice answers that you happily press the buttons to choose.

You get all of them right (of course) and get especially excited when a goblin shark appears on the screen.

"Goblin shark!" You cry," Like my top, Mama! Like my top!"

You don't know why but Mama looks at you with wide eyes, mouth falling open. She looks a little tearful as she nods. "Yeah, liefje, it is like your top."

You look down happily at your t-shirt and then back at the screen.

Mama bought you this top the day after your trip to get your Blåhaj shark and for the first two days, you refused to take it off. Mummy hates it but you love it so you keep it in your room, under your pillow so she can't throw it away.

"Mama, come on," You say to her as she remains frozen in the same spot. You've finished the quiz and kind of want to move on - Mummy promised that Mama would buy you something at the gift shop.

She still looks slightly tearful and drops your hand.

You turn to look at her. "Mama?"

She picks you up, holding you closer as she rest her chin on the top of your head.

"Mama? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, liefje. Why...Why don't we stop off at the touch tanks and then we'll get you your presents?"

You nod along, practically shaking with excitement as you reach into the tank to run your fingers gently over the back of an epaulette shark. Mummy always tells you to be gentle when stroking cats and dogs so you make sure to be extra gentle with the little shark.

"You touch," You tell Mama, who's still holding you tight.

"I'm fine, liefje," She says, refusing to relinquish her hold on you," This is for you."

"I'm going to study sharks when I'm older," You tell Mama earnestly as she walks you to the gift shop.

"You are? No football?"

You reach out to touch a shark mug. "Sharks are more fun than football," You tell her," Can this be my present?"

"Just this?"

"Mummy says that I can only get one thing."

Mama smiles at you. "We've just had a very special day, liefje. I think we get you more than one thing."

You beam, remembering the sentence that Mummy taught you last week. "Thank you, Mama! Ik houd van je (I love you)!"

She looks as shocked as she was earlier when you saw the goblin shark photo. "I love you too, liefje."

#woso x reader #meadema x reader #beth mead x reader #beth mead #vivianne miedema x reader #vivianne miedema #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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temptingfatetakingnames · 6 months

Text

Dancing in the Dark Part 2

Part 1

Time was moving slowly and Eddie wanted to smash his head on the table. Women kept coming over to talk to Steve. They brought him drinks (that he politely refused), they eyed him up and down, they complimented him, they touched him. On the shoulder, shyly on his knees, they leaned into his space and smiled brightly at him. They all asked him to sing again. Please, please sing again. You were amazing, they said with their breathy, feminine voices. Eddie wanted to scratch their pretty smiles off their stupid pretty faces. Steve shook them all off with a smile and Eddie was honestly a little surprised that he wasn’t soaking up the attention more.

Nancy and Johnathan were on stage singing a Sonny and Cher duet that probably would have sounded a lot better a few beers ago. It was late though, and most of the crowd was drunk and having a good time, singing along with them. The latest woman to strike out with Steve slinked away after leaving a napkin with her phone number on it.

“I’m gunna get some air,” Steve said, getting up from the table. Eddie watched him make his way through the crowd until he couldn’t see him anymore. When he turned back around, he saw Robin staring at him, her eyes wide and slightly unfocused.

She jerked her head in the direction Steve went. “You should go after him.”

“Should I?” Eddie asked, bewildered.

“Yeah, go see if he’s okay,” she said slurring her words a little.

“Shouldn’t you go see if he’s okay? Miss Best Friend?”

Robin pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Miss Best Friend says you need to go,” she said and then gave him the most uncoordinated wink Eddie had ever seen his life. He looked through the crowd towards the door that Steve had disappeared out of. He knocked his knuckles on the table and stood. Robin gave him two thumbs up and a huge grin that he couldn’t help but snort at.

He made his way through the room, gently nudging people out of his way. When he got to the door he took a deep breath, pushed it open and stepped outside. Steve was leaning up against the side of the bar with a cigarette hanging loosely in his fingers. He was looking up at the sky, deep in thought, a small frown hovering on his lips. He looked beautiful and sad and Eddie felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

How had he missed it?

How fucking sad he looked sometimes?

“Hey man,” Eddie said as he walked over.

Steve looked at him and Eddie watched in real time as a mask came down over his face. He tilted his head to the side and a little half smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

It almost reached his eyes.

Almost.

If Eddie wasn’t looking closer now, he would have been fooled by it. It was well practiced, automatic, near perfect…and Eddie’s heart clenched again.

“Munson,” Steve said with a warm affectionate voice that Eddie didn’t feel he deserved. He held out his cigarette between two fingers and Eddie took it.

They traded it back and forth, quietly smoking.

“You should sing more often, you’re not as terrible as I was expecting you to be.”

“High praise coming from you,” Steve said and nudged Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

“Why don’t you?”

Steve shrugged and took another drag of the cigarette before answering. “I used to… with my mom. She loves Springsteen.”

It both was and wasn’t an answer. No parents. Big house. Eddie wondered when they stopped singing together. The silence stretched between them. Eddie fiddled with his rings, turning them around and around his fingers. He didn’t know how to talk about things like this – the big things. How do you ask your friend why he doesn’t sing with his mother anymore? How do you ask him why he sang Springsteen tonight if it hurt him?

“I was wondering what Robin was going to say earlier – what else you’ve been up to?” Eddie asked, choosing an easier question.

“Oh.” Steve seemed surprised. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Well, I figured out that I really want to work with kids. For my job? But I really screwed myself over with my grades so I’ve been talking to Hop about what I can do. He’s going to write me a reference letter and see if he can help get me into college next year. In the meantime, I’ve been volunteering at the public school. Basically, a camp counselor for an after-school program. I – I really like it. The kids are great. I’ve been teaching them basketball and swimming. There’s this one girl, Ashley – she’s so shy, but so sweet! Took me weeks just to get a smile out of her, but a couple days ago she hugged me and gave me cookies that she made with her mom –” Steve cut himself off before muttering, “sorry, I’m rambling…”

Another adorable blush started creeping over his cheekbones. Eddie couldn’t think of a time that Steve had talked so much at once. He usually just listened when they all got together, chiming in every now and then with a comment but never talking a whole lot. But then he tried to think about the last time he or the kids had asked him a question about what he was doing or thinking and – he couldn’t.

“It sounds great, man!” Eddie said around the lump in his throat. “Tell me more.”

Steve smiled. A real one this time, small and shy.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Eddie nodded… and Steve talked.

He had been volunteering since the spring. It was mostly younger kids whose parents weren’t home when school got out. Steve said that the program was pretty bare-bones and that the other counselors just let the kids do whatever they wanted in the school playground or gym but didn’t really plan any activities. Steve changed that by introducing sports and trips to the pool and lake as the weather warmed up.

The kids genuinely seemed to like him which surprised him but didn’t surprise Eddie at all. He told him more about Ashley. Her mom was on her own; her husband had passed away a few years ago. Steve didn’t say she was his favourite but Eddie could tell that she was. Something about how shy she was at the start and how she was slowly opening up to him really affected him. As he spoke, his smile got wider and he talked with his hands more and Eddie was captivated. He nodded along and let Steve talk for as long as he wanted, only asking the occasional follow-up question.

“I’m going to see if there’s a program I can volunteer with in the summer, too.”

“I’m sure there is,” Eddie said with a smile.

Steve ducked his head to hide his face. After a moment, he looked up through his hair and said, “thanks.”

“Thanks for what?”

“For asking,” Steve said. “For listening.”

“I’m sorry for not asking sooner.”

“How could you ask about something you didn’t know about?”

“I should have asked about you,” Eddie said quietly.

For a moment the mask slipped off Steve’s face and Eddie saw the same dark emotion in his eyes that he had seen earlier. But just as quickly it was gone – hidden behind his confident self-assured attitude and a smirk on his lips. Eddie was starting to see it for the armor it was.

“I’m not that interesting,” Steve said and leaned back against the wall of the bar, lifting his face up to the night sky. The words were regurgitated – someone had said them to him enough times that he had internalized them, consumed them until he thought they came from his own mind. Eddie had a lot of experience with that. There was a lot that they had in common, Eddie was realizing.

“I don’t want this to sound condescending or weird… or whatever, but –” Eddie paused and cleared his throat before continuing, “can I give you a hug?”

Steve looked over at him with surprise and opened his mouth, probably to say ‘no’ or ‘what the hell, Munson?’ but Eddie turned to him, arms spread wide and he closed it. The moment stretched and Eddie didn’t think he was going to hug him. He was just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face – probably trying to determine Eddie’s sincerity so he held his eyes, stepped a little closer and opened his arms wider.

Hug me, Big Boy.

Steve closed the distance between them slowly, like he thought Eddie might change his mind if he moved too quickly. He smiled at him gently and Steve sagged forward, resting his head on his shoulder. He let out a sigh when Eddie brought his arms up and held him tightly. After a moment, Steve gripped him back just as hard.

Now that the hug was initiated, Eddie had no idea what to do. Rub his back? Try to get him to talk? He had never been good with his own feelings, let alone someone else’s. But Steve was his friend… and he was hurting.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked as gently as he could.

Steve immediately tensed up but didn’t pull away. Eddie rubbed small circles into his back and looked at the sky. The stars shone brilliantly in the night; he could see why Steve kept looking up at them. They held on to each other silently. Steve was still tense in his arms, despite the circles, and Eddie was convinced that he wasn’t going to answer. Which was fine, maybe a quiet hug was what he needed. The circles didn’t seem to be helping so he stopped. He brought one of his hands up to Steve’s neck and slipped his fingers into the hair at his nape. It was soft. Steve shuddered at the motion and went limp in his arms.

“No,” he whispered.

“No,” he forced out and Eddie could tell from his voice that he was fighting back tears.

“No,” he sobbed and clutched at Eddie with desperation. His body shaking as the tears overwhelmed him.

Eddie made soft shushing noises and rocked them gently, his fingers still tangled in his hair. Tears pricked at his own eyes in the face of Steve’s turmoil. He wished they were somewhere else; somewhere warm and quiet where he could bundle Steve up and keep the world from hurting him… keep the world from hurting him more.

He felt small in his arms… fragile. Which was crazy because Steve was a protector. He had saved the world. He had saved Eddie – had dragged him out of hell despite his own injuries. But who protected him? Who asked him how he was doing? What he was feeling? Eddie was desperate to know why he sang Dancing in the Dark. When Robin forced him up on stage with whatever secret he didn’t want the rest of them to know he could have done any song he wanted. He chose Dancing in the Dark – and then sang the most heartbreaking version Edde had ever heard. Steve had put everything he was feeling into it; had practically screamed at them to see him.

“Talk to me, Steve,” he prodded softly. “Tell me anything, everything. I want to hear it. Talk to me, please.”

Sniffles and shaky breaths, but strong arms still clutched Eddie tightly.

“I – I don’t sleep…” Steve said so quietly Eddie had to strain to hear the words. “Everyone keeps saying it’s over but it doesn’t feel over. It’s been over before…and even when I do manage it, I have these awful dreams. Robin stays over when she can, and it helps… but she’s leaving and I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. And the kids are getting older and they don’t need me anymore. And I finally have a goal, something I want to do but what if I fucked myself over in high school and I end up stuck at Family Video forever? I don’t know what I’m doing Eddie, and I can’t sleep.”

Eddie was once again struck by how much they had in common. Nightmares and the fear that the Upside Down could come back at any moment? Check. Unfulfilled dreams and the fear of falling into an average boring life? Check. He didn’t know how to tell Steve that he understood, that he saw him. There was a song that came to mind, one of his favourites by Dio that always helped him when he felt lost and alone. Talking about feelings was hard, but singing? Eddie could do that. He could do that for Steve.

He started singing Rainbow in the Dark quietly, giving Steve something to lean into, to listen for. He softened it, like Steve had with Dancing in the Dark, turning it into a companion piece – a continuation, a parallel.

When there's lightning You know it always brings me down 'Cause it's free and I see that it's me Who's lost and never found

I cry out for magic I feel it dancing in the light It was cold, lost my hold To the shadows of the night

No sign of the morning coming You've been left on your own Like a rainbow in the dark A rainbow in the dark

Do your demons, do they ever let you go? When you try to do they hide deep inside? Is it someone that you know?

There's no sign of the morning coming You've been left on your own Like a rainbow in the dark Just a rainbow in the dark

Steve’s tears had stopped as Eddie sang. They were holding each other lighter now, softly standing close. Steve had leaned back so he could see Eddie’s face as he sang.

“It is over, Steve… truly over. We won and Vecna is dead. I know that won’t stop the nightmares – it hasn’t for me. Not yet. But it will eventually, when it keeps being over. I’ll come over when Robin is gone. We can help each other sleep, yeah? And the kids are always going to need you – maybe not in the ‘demon slaying, use my body as a shield’ way – but in the older brother who loves them way. I think you’re interesting, Steve. I think…” Eddie paused, trying to get his thoughts together. “I think you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. I want to know everything about you. I want to know why your mother stopped singing with you and why your house is always empty. I want to know why you sang Springsteen tonight. I want to know why you got so good at hiding what you’re really thinking and feeling. I want to know your favourite colour and your favourite food. I want to know about your dreams and your nightmares…I want to know it all.”

“Why?” Steve whispered.

He was close enough that Eddie could see the green flecks in his eyes. His face was blotchy and red from crying and his hair was a mess from Eddie’s fingers, and he had never looked more beautiful. They still had their arms around each other but they weren’t hugging anymore – it was more a loose embrace, and Eddie was viscerally aware of the difference. Steve wasn’t pulling away though, was holding his eyes like they held the secrets to the universe. It made him feel brave.

“Because I like you and I want to know you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve smiled brightly, warming Eddie with the glow. He looked down at the hand that Eddie had on his waist and grabbed it. And just like that Steve was holding his hand, and smiling at him and Eddie didn’t know what to do with the feelings fluttering in his chest. He thought he might be having a heart attack.

“I like you too, Eddie Munson.”

He was definitely having a heart attack. Eddie squeezed his hand and then moved forward a bit so he could rest his forehead on Steve’s. He huffed out a small laugh, unable to comprehend how they had got here.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to get our friends and take them home, then I’m going to come over and we’re going to sleep and in the morning we’ll talk more. Sound good, sweetheart?” The term of endearment popped out of his mouth and Eddie blushed furiously.

But Steve smiled and said, “Sounds good, Eddie.”

Final Part

---

I really wasn't planning on writing a part two of this ficlet so I didn't have a plan when I started. I hope you like it as much as the first part, it turned out much sadder than I thought it was going to. It's funny to me that even though Steve sang Dancing and Eddie sang Rainbow I think the songs work better the other way? Steve is the Rainbow and Eddie is Dancing - I guess that's why they sang them to each other <3

@newtstabber @warlordess @tillystealeaves @imfinereallyy @heartsong18 @saltyseagoat83 @aceofwands @djohawke @th30ra3k3n @lazy-duck @surreal-honeypot @awkwardgravity1 @yoriposts @alycatavatar @tearsonthemoon222 @roastingdragon @mightbeasleep @helpimstuckposting @goblintendencies

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Steve Harrington can sing #Dancing in the dark #Open mic night #steve x eddie

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peachedtv · 1 year

Text

•* Jealous Jjk Menˏˋ°

╰┈➤ ❝overview:❞ gojo, geto, yuji, toji, megumi x f!reader (separately)

╰┈➤ ❝ content warnings: ❞ fuckboy!gojo, established relationship for geto yuji megumi, yandere tendencies, dubcon/noncon kissing, toxic, possessiveness, Satoru calls reader a whore in his thoughts, depictions of light violence (not against reader or love interests), suggestive, mentions of sex, reader is kinda stalked by toji ig??,

╰┈➤ ❝wordcount:❞ ~600 words each, total ~3k

Satoru is a confident man, and why wouldn't he be? He knows he's fucking hot, that women fall at his feet, that he alone stands superior to so many.

And so every time he sees a nice, pretty-looking thing, he's got to have her wrapped around his finger (before having them wrapped up in his sheets)

Intentionally or not, he's unapologetically seduced one taken woman after another, fucking them nice and full before he disappears into thin air. He's got a big fat god complex, and he's got it for a good reason.

So when you come around as the newest jujutsu teacher, batting your doe eyes, your outfits hugging your body a little too well, he knows he's got his next target.

And it goes as easily as he expects. Soon, you're laughing with him at his stupid jokes and antics, ruffling his hair when he teases his students too much. You're intoxicating, and he just can't wait to see more of you, to see all of you.

He's so full of himself that he doesn't even notice how close you and your old high school friend are getting. Not until he's walking down the street, smirking to himself at the hushed whispers of how eye-catching he looks, when he sees you.

You're smiling so brightly, so pretty, yet why isn't it with him? He's seen that smile, he thought it was for his eyes alone, so why are you showing it to another guy? What a fucking whore.

He's livid, nearly dropping the bag he was holding from how distracted he became. Why the fuck is he jealous? How is he jealous?

Satoru's never been in love, and he doesn't want to be. He's never cared about a woman in the slightest, heartlessly leaving each and every one of them as tears welled in their eyes. So why does he feel his fist clenching in anger when he sees you smiling with this guy?

He watches you carefully, tilting his chin downward to see you more clearly, without his sunglasses. His hands lazily shove themselves into his pockets, gaze half-lidded with a light scowl

It's not until the guy gently pats you on the head, affectionately messing up your hair does he truly fucking loses it

Before he knows it, the guy's wrist is twisted up in Satoru's hand, fear plastered across the dude's face before he flicks his arm away. Shoving himself between you two.

'What do we have here, huh?'

And yet, even when he's protecting you, you're not even fucking thankful. Going off, asking why he would do that, confusion on your face as you comfort the guy and apologize over and over.

He sees red, harshly grabbing your arm and dragging you away to jujutsu tech. You're yelling out, telling him how much it hurts, yet he doesn't care. Thats not the fucking problem right now, so why don't you shut the fuck up?

Once you two arrive, you're thrown right against a wall, his hand punching the space next to you, rubble crumbling down from the impact. Yet that's not what truly shocked you, it's how his other hand tugged your chin up, his lips pressing right up against you.

You're gasping, and he gladly takes it as an invitation for his tongue to wrap up against yours, kissing you sloppy and rough.

Even though you're scared, even though you're trembling under his hold, you find yourself closing your eyes when he tangles his hand into your hair. Your heart was doing backflips, and you felt a sense of longing when he pulled away.

'That's right,' Satoru smiled, 'You're mine.'

Geto was a calm man. Always speaking respectfully, never losing his cool, and smiling to you so cooly every time you two went out anywhere together. He was the best boyfriend to you, and you couldn't be any happier. He knew that you were his and he was yours. He was stable.

Thus, with his stability, he wasn't bothered when Satoru invited you both to a club. He hadn't slept too well the night before, resting himself on the couch as he waited for you to get ready. Yet when you walked down the stairs, he felt his heart completely go haywire.

He felt his eyes go to every indecent spot someone could think of, and suddenly, the apartment you two shared felt a little too hot. He couldn't keep his eyes off your thighs, off your waist, off your breasts. All of which were hugged so well in that pretty little dress of yours.

'What do you think?' You giggled cheerfully, giving him a full spin before you hugged him tightly. And it wasn't until you asked did he finally remember where you two were going.

He felt an odd burn spiral inside of him. He thought about the perverted guys that would be in the club, thought of his fuckboy best friend, and Geto started to feel a little concerned.

Yet, he didn't show it in the slightest. He trusted you, he knew you were undoubtedly loyal to him, and he was for you. He smiled, immediately getting down to one knee and kissing your hand.

'You are stunning.' He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you couldn't get how hard you blushed and stammered at how you two needed to get going.

Once the two of you had arrived, he felt his walls soar sky-high when he saw Satoru greeting you with a hug that lasted a little too long. He snaked his hand about your waist, kissing the top of your head before lightly greeting Satoru aswell.

Once you had your fill of dancing, he offered to fetch you both some drinks. You smiled to him so pretty, pecking his cheek before he left.

When he came back, he saw some guy had joined your table. The moment the guy had reached out to take your hand, he slammed the drinks onto the table and greeted you affectionately.

Geto sat right next to you, across from the man. The air was so fucking thick, and his gaze was knocked onto the guy. Geto sizing him up as he draped his arm onto your shoulders, pulling you against his chest.

The guy was so intimidated he ended up stuttering some excuse to leave, Geto staring him down the whole time as the guy shuffled his belongings.

'Was that a friend?' He rubbed his palm against your upper arm. You hummed in response, laughing lightly. 'I can tell that you're jealous, silly.' And he simply took another sip out of his drink. 'Hey, common. Of course I would be.' He whined, his hand playing into your hair as he pressed a gentle kiss upon your forehead.

'I want you all to myself.'

Yuji was such a little simp for you. He would just start smiling while you two walked about, smiling on how lucky he was to have a pretty girl like you. He was so happy with you it fluttered his heart, even Sukuna would shit on him for how giddy he was whenever you were around.

Both you and Yuji shared a class, and even at school, he never hesitated to cup your face into his hands and press his lips against yours, sometimes if he felt a bit goofy he'd even slap your ass and run away when you chased him to return the favour. Yuji was in love.

And even though Yuji knew how great of a woman you were, he was never intimidated by it. He appreciated your entire being, and never felt threatened whenever someone was bold enough to hit on you in front of him. He'd simply smile confidently, watching you reject the guy respectfully. 'Thats my girl.'

In the end, Yuji trusted you with everything. He wasn't the type to be jealous at all, at least..that's what he thought.

It was after an especially rough nightmare when his control over Sukuna faltered, tattoos quickly spread over his body as he was forced into the back of his own mind.

Yet there you were, still peacefully sleeping as his little spoon, unaware of the beast that had awaken. Your chest rose and fell so gently, lashes delicately framing your eyes, nightdress hiking up to your thighs just enough. So how could you blame Sukuna when he gently pulled you to sleep on his chest?

When you came to, you were still wrecked with sleepiness. You lazily shuffled up to ‘Yuji’, mumbling a good morning as you gave him a peck on the lips. Yet, you were greatly surprised when a hand tangled into your hair, holding you in place as the kiss turned more sensual. A tongue slipping past your lips, a hand travelling up to rest on your hip.

His hand took your breast, twisting about a nipple as he smiled against you. ‘Yuji’ was being…so bold. Too bold.

You opened your eyes and nearly choked when you noticed the tattoos scattered across your boyfriend’s face. What happened?!

When Yuji regained control, he couldnt help but be all pouty with you. Was your baby boy…jealous?!

Before you knew it, Yuji was so clingy after that. He’d hug you lazily, and with his height and muscle, you couldn’t move the overgrown pulpy off you. Whenever you’d whine about having to get to work, he’d nuzzle his nose into your neck before sluggishly letting you change.

You couldn’t help but giggle as Yuji kept slapping Sukuna’s mouth on his cheek as a form of punishment. But what really amused you was how Yuji would slap your ass before announcing ‘See that, Sukuna? You haven’t had that with Y/N before, huh? Total score!’

Yet, everytime after that morning, you noticed Yuji become much too flustered whenever you came near. Soon enough, you saw how his eyes travelled back between the palm of his hand and your breast—and you put two and two together. He’d never felt up your tits!

You wanted to soothe Yuji’s perverted little mind. So during the next makeout session, you took his hand and pressed it right up onto your boobs. Yuji’s eyes shot open but you didn’t take it to stop the kiss, instead, laughing to yourself as you felt his curious hands give a light squeeze.

After that day, Yuji didn’t feel jealous in the slightest. He’d randomly be standing about before giggling to himself about your ‘godly tities’

God, you’ve fallen in love with a total goof.

Ever since Toji’s wife had passed, he couldn’t help the way his morality shattered about him. He missed her. He missed her so fucking much.

Every now and then, his memory would fade back to when his son was first born, his wife gently holding the child in her arms, head tilted to the side as she cooed and giggled.

And with that repeated memory, came even more anger when he realized his wife was gone.

He’d take out his anger on one Jujutsu Sorcerer after another, eventually building his reputation as a renouned assasin. So he wasn’t phased when someone offered him a fat stack of cash in return for your life.

At first, Toji didn’t care. He was even happy about it, sharpening his blade while imagining all the casinos and expensive alcohol he could purchase after his payout. He couldn’t care less about the sentimental value of your life, he was paid for a job and he’d be more than happy to soothe his bloodlust for the day.

So, when he cornered you into an alleyway, sinking a blade down into your gut, he’d officially secured his paycheck. While he nonchalantly walked over to you, you stumbled away from him in a panic. It hurt, it really did hurt. And you tried your best to defend yourself as you ran the best you could out the alleyway.

God, you were such a boring fight, he thought. But it wasnt until he realized why you had run out the alley.

In the near street, a little boy bad ran into the incoming traffic after his ball. You yelled out to the child, using your cursed technique to slow the car the best you could before you swooped the boy up into your arms.

You panted heavily, the blood oozing from your stomach wiping itself onto the boy’s clothes. But you did your best to pat the kid’s head, smiling to him and soothing his racing nerves. You were so…motherly. Caring. Sweet. You didn’t care for the chance you had to hitch a ride on the roof of that car, to run away from your inpending death.

You went out of your way to save and cradle this stranger’s child, and Toji saw a part of your heart that softened his own.

When you turned around, gaze stiffening as you prepared for your final moments—he was gone. No where to be seen. But he wasn’t gone for long.

Soon, he was everywhere you went. God, did this guy not have a life? Was he taunting you before killing you off? Every morning he’d be on the same route of your jog. He’d be sitting at your favorite cafe, he’d be whistling at the grocery store as you clicked your tongue in annoyance.

But what really surprised you was how he’d beat up any catcallers that harrassed you, how he’d pick up your keys if you happened to drop them, how he’d accidentally tap his card when you tried paying for your coffee. You were so confused with this man.

It wasn’t long until you softened up to him too, you both would talk lightly during every morning run, buy coffee together, and he’d walk you to work.

So no duh you said yes when he asked you to dinner

He was so giddy as he walked to the restaurant you chose, stopping outside the enterance and adjusting his tie in the reflective glass before stepping in. But he became confused when you were on the brink of tears from laughing at something.

He realized that at those one way windows…he had adjusted his tie and took deep breaths right infront of you…without him knowing a crumb of it. You thought that was so cute.

The night was great, until it became a little…awkward. And Toji noticed your discomfort, asking you what was wrong.

‘The waiter, he’s my ex.’ Toji took your hand reassuringly, telling you he’d be sure to keep the bastard in check.

But when the end of the dinner came, and your ex had attached a note to your bill with his new number and a pathetic ‘You’re so sexy, call me.’ Toji couldn’t keep still anymore.

He stood right up, walking over to your ex as the guy confidently strided away, yet all that radiating glory washed away with Toji grabbing the dude’s collar and slamming him into the wall.

‘Don’t fuck with me. You’ve long lost her.’

The guy was shaking, muttering nonsensical apologies. But it wasn’t until you stepped in and asked Toji to let the loser go, that he wasn’t worth it, did Toji drop the guy into the floor.

That didn’t stop him from intimidating the fuck out of the staff and owner, eventually getting your ex fired and your dinner being complimentary.

Toji was still restless. He wanted your night to be perfect, so he dragged you two out to a bar for some light drinks to make up for the whole drama at the restaurant.

And boy was he such a gentleman. Opening doors, kissing your hand lightly, gently taking your hair to his hand—he was such a dream.

By the end of the night, you couldn’t help it when both the wisps of alcohol and your fluttering heart meekly asked for the two of you to be official. Toji merely smirked to you, grabbing hold of your chin and kissing you dominantly before whispering down to you.

‘Let’s make it official, then. Ms. Zen’in.’

Megumi is so gentle with you, you can’t get over how much he makes your heart flutter.

Ever since you two got together, he’d meekly hold your hand like a lost little kid whenever you guys went out, a fat blush dusted all over his face when you’d give him a reassuring squeeze to tell him you don’t mind holding hands.

You loved him so much, and he loved you just so much more. Everytime he saw you he’d feel his eyes widen and heart stop, as though the world around would come to a halt just for you.

But this time, his heart stopped for a different reason.

When Gojo had decided to engage in team-mock-battles, Megumi felt dropped down when he saw you guys weren’t on the same team. You were paired with Yuji, while he was with Nobara.

Megumi knows you’re strong, but he just can’t keep himself together at the thought of trying to take you down with his demon dogs—so he decides to target Yuji instead.

It wasn’t until his dog lurged forward, jaw ready to bite right onto Yuji, did you tackle your partner out of harms way. Immediately falling right in top of him. You weren’t embarrassed, purely focused on the mission as you scrambled to get up and drag Yuji by the wrist to safer ground. But that didn’t stop the pang in Megumi’s chest seeing you hold someone else.

Yes, he knows its a mock battle, and he knows in his heart that you and Yuji would never betray him. But he can’t help but become a little more aggressive in his attacks to Itadori for the rest of the day.

When the battle ended, Megumi was panting heavily, bangs stuck to his forehead from the sweat, as he relinquished his cursed spirits. Gojo pat his back.

‘I haven’t seen you so engaged in a while. I wonder what triggered you!’ He teased Megumi, they both knew the answer, and Megumi knew the blindfolded bastard was just messing with him. He slapped Gojo’s hand away and was about to retort something back when you called out to him.

You ran to him as fast as you could, tackling Megumi into the floor with you on top of him. In that moment, Megumi saw the difference first-hand.

While you tackled Yuji with a panicked expression before scrambling up without any word—with Megumi, he noticed how you held the back of his head up to not hit it against the ground. He noticed how your other hand rested on his chest, petting him reassuringly. He saw that glint in your eyes, the glint of absolute love that resembled how he looked at you with so much endearment.

What he had with you doesn’t compare to anything else in the world. Megumi chastised himself mentally for ever getting jealous.

‘I love you, you know that? I love you so, so much.’

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi! I’m the anon that asked if you’re taking requests for Joel and aaaah I’m so happy you still are! <3 could you pretty please write something where the reader surprises Joel by baking him a little cake or something for his birthday? And he’s so shocked not only by the sweet gesture, but because he knows it was probably a huge hassle to try to gather all the ingredients needed for that in the QZ. So, he pulls her in for a big kiss and is like “you did this for me???” And if you’re comfortable, maybe you could include some smut so Joel can show his appreciation 😌 thank you so much! xx 🥰❤️

AN | Omg, please, this is so sweet!❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re up to something.”

“Shit, fuck, damn it Joel!” you shrieked as he walked into the bedroom and found you on the floor, crouched near the bed. You’d smacked your head on the edge of the nightstand when you’d startled at his sudden intrusion. You hissed as you rubbed at the already sore spot and landed on your butt as you glared at him.

“Baby,” he did his best, although it was still a vain attempt, to hide the bemused expression on his face. He kneeled down next to you, and replaced your hand with his own, making sure there was no visible injury, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you huffed, glaring at him without any bit of malice, “maybe you could announce yourself and not sneak up on me!”

“I wouldn’t have to sneak up if you weren’t being so secretive and clearly hiding something from me,” he crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow as you seemed to deflate slightly. He chuckled warmly before reaching over and touching your cheek, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “what are you up to, huh?”

“I’m not up to something,” you insisted….you lied rather. You were absolutely lying to him, but it was for a good reason. You were planning a surprise for his birthday and for once you wanted it to be an actual surprise. So yeah, you were being a little secretive and sneaking around, but it was all in the name of love…and birthdays. He’d see soon enough, and you hoped it would be worth it all, “maybe you’re just getting old and seeing things.”

“Wow,” he sat back on his haunches as you offered him a sweet little smile. Joel was older than you and you enjoyed teasing him about - affectionately of course. Everything and anything related to Joel filled you with affection and fondness, “you’re really hitting all the sore spots today.”

“Ha ha,” you rolled your eyes, absentmindedly touching the bump on your head, “you’re hilarious, Miller.”

“Old and hilarious,” he grinned, and you were glad to be sitting because that smile always made you weak in the knees. He had the prettiest smile and it lit up his whole face; you loved making it come out as much as possible, “and you are tenacious and sneaky.”

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of me,” you refused to look at him as you stood up and stretched, making sure the blanket was hanging down to cover the underside of the bed. You held out your hand to him, helping to gently hoist him to his foot. Not that he needed help, but you liked the idea that he too needed your help at times, “considering there’s nothing going on.”

“I’m not stupid,” he reminded you, hands on his hips as he looked at you, “and I know you’re up to something.”

“Joel-”

“I’ll tell you what,” he insisted softly, “I’ll drop it if you make it worth my while.”

“Bribery,” you mused softly, “that’s what we’re resorting to these days. How very interesting. But, I’ll indulge - what’s your price?”

“My price,” he took a step closer, “is at least one kiss.”

“One kiss,” you raised an eyebrow and he nodded, clearly looking pleased with himself, “seems like a low cost. Cutting yourself short?”

“I said at least one,” he settled his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body, “now what do you say?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I’ve got everything now,” your face felt like it was going to break in half from how hard you were smiling. You took the chocolate and tucked it into your bag, keeping it safe and secret until you were ready to use it.

“Holy shit,” Stacy nudged your side gently with her elbow, “I can’t even remember the last time I had a fresh baked…anything.”

“I know,” you sighed softly, “I’ll save you some o-or make a whole other cake. I hope he’ll like it.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” the serious look on her face made you laugh softly, “what person wouldn’t love a freshly baked cake? Hell, at this point even people that don’t like cake or chocolate would be dying to get a piece.”

“Well I guess if it all works out, I’ll open a smuggler’s bakery and keep everyone nice and happy,” you knew that it was unrealistic but sometimes it was nice to keep these sorts of dreams alive. Stacy pressed a kiss to your cheek, happy to hear the joy in your voice.

“You really love him, huh?” she asked as though it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Your face grew warm as you focused your gaze on your feet. You bit the inside of your cheek before turning back to look at her and nodded slowly, “it’s almost disgusting how sappy the two of you are with each other.”

“I doubt we’re that sappy with each other,” you insisted; you lived in the belief that most people saw you as nothing but a lovesick puppy following Joel around, “it’s probably more like me being a pathetic fool for him.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she insisted firmly, “that man looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in this entire fucked up world.”

“Stace-”

“Don’t argue with me,” her voice was firm but fond, “I would never tell a lie and I’ll absolutely never lie to you.”

You held up your hands in mock surrender before shaking your head in amusement. Before either of you could say anything else, a shadow loomed over you and cut through the sunlight.

You looked up and found Joel standing there with an amused expression on his face. You held up your hand and gave him a meek little wave and a little smile, “hey Joel.”

“Hey baby,” he held out his hand to you, an invitation you always accepted with glee. He pulled you up and into his arms for a warm hug, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “she’s right you know. Don’t argue with her.”

“At least one of you has some sense,” Stacy high fived Joel before taking a few steps back from both you, “would you look at the time! I’ve ugh...gotta go!”

She turned around and took off and you watched her go, shaking your head, “she’s not very subtle, is she?”

“Just about as subtle as you are with whatever you’re hiding,” he’d been trying for almost two weeks now to figure out what your little plan was. You weren’t going to give in - not until the actual day was here. You wanted this to be a real surprise for once. You put your hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.

“Let it go,” you sing-sang at him, “I don’t know why you’re so insistent on this. Don’t you think if there was something going you’d have found out by now?”

“Not necessarily,” he shrugged, running a hand through his dark locks, “you could be in for the long con.”

“Joel,” you moved past him and looked to see if he was going to follow, “let it go. ‘sides you promised that you’d drop it in exchange for a kiss. If I recall correctly, I gave you plenty of those.”

“There’s always room for more of those,” he easily caught up with you and draped his arm around your shoulders, “if you’re willing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shrugged him, “hurry up and maybe you can have some more.”

“Yes ma’am.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d turned on the record player, a gift that Joel had managed to get for you a while back. You loved it a terrible amount; it was something you’d mentioned in passing a few times and he’d made sure to get for you. Now you listened to it whenever you got the chance.

The small apartment, that you’d tried so hard to make feel like a real home, was pristine and smelled like fresh chocolate cake. You were currently perched in front of the oven, looking in every few moments to make sure it wouldn’t burn. You wanted everything to perfect - as perfect as it could all get these days.

It was Joel’s birthday today. It was not the first one you’d spent together, but it was the one in which you were aware that it was his birthday. He’d never told you when it was before, but you’d managed to coax it out of him. It had taken a lot for him to put his guard down around you, but did it over time, slowly and with tons of love. Just like he’d done for you.

But since today was the first real birthday you were celebrating, you wanted to make it a memorable and special day. At one point he’d mentioned that he used to love all things chocolate, including chocolate cake.

And it had been difficult to actually get everything for the cake, weeks of running around and finding the right people for the right things. So yes, Joel had been right on the money that something was going on. Little did he know that it was something just for him.

There were some fresh flowers on the table, ones that you’d grown yourself in one of the community gardens. They were among a few other things you’d set up to make it clear that you were actually celebrating his birthday. Some makeshift decorations livened the place up as well. Maybe it was silly, or cheesy, but you really wanted this day to be everything.

Once the cake was cooled and your frosting was made, you iced the cake, making sure the chocolatey goodness was spread all over the fluffy layers. It had been a long time since you’d baked - given that the opportunities were few and far between - but you were pretty impressed with yourself. It seemed like it would be delicious, and you had been able to make a second cake to share with your friends. It wasn’t much, but it was a treat that people would love.

Your heart started beating wildly when you heard his familiar footsteps in the hallway before he slowly opened the door. Despite the fact that you knew he was coming in, you still flinched when you heard his familiar sigh as he stepped inside.

The smell was the first sign that something was different, the second was the flustered look on your face as you held up your hands and waved them around accompanied with a small, “ta da!”

“What’s all this?” he asked softly, looking around the decorated space before settling his focus back onto you, “baby.”

“Happy birthday, Joel!” you beamed as you bounced over to him and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. He hugged you back just as tightly, burrowing his face in your neck, “surprise!”

“You remembered,” he whispered as you pulled back and kissed him softly as you nodded.

“Of course I did,” you grinned, “now that I finally got it out of you, I’m never going to forget! I also happened not to forget that you said that chocolate was your favorite type of cake. So…”

You moved to the side so he could get a proper look at the cake on the counter. His expression softened even further, as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, “you made cake.”

“I made cake,” you confirmed, tenderly touching the side of his face. He closed his eyes and preened into your touch before wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand, “hopefully it’ll be good. Preemptive apologies if it’s not.”

“I don’t even want to know how you managed to get all of these ingredients,” he should have known that you’d do something like this, “wait a minute…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you put a finger to his lips before he could even say anything else, “you were right this whole time. I have been up to something…and this just happens to be the thing I was up to.”

“I knew you were lying to me,” he chuckled fondly, “I always know when you’re up to something.”

“Well, I hope you’ll accept my sincere apologies and some cake,” you made a small sound of surprise as he wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you onto the table. You made a small sound of content as he stepped between your legs, his large hands cradling your face, “and the flowers. I grew those myself, thank you very much.”

“And they’re beautiful,” he pressed his forehead to yours, “but still not nearly as beautiful as you.”

“Joel,” you put your hands on his shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze, “stop trying to be such a romantic when this day is about you!”

“The two things are not mutually exclusive,” he insisted as you snorted in amusement. He caught your eye for a moment, his big brown eyes soft studying yours intently, “I love you, you know.”

“Yeah,” your heart constricted at the affection he so easily gave to you. Joel was a hard man, and it took a long time for him to be so open and free with how he spoke to you and how he loved you. And you treasured each and every moment of it, “I know. I love you, Joel. Do you want some cake?”

“I want some dessert,” he agreed and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as he looked you over. You felt the warmth spread through your body, felt that familiar tingle start in your core as you bit your lip. Joel was sure that sight would kill him one day, “and then I’ll have some cake too, I think.”

“Joel,” his name sounded more like breathy whisper, “are you sure you don’t just-”

“We’ll have it all,” he promised, “really. I…thank you for this. All of it. It’s more than anything I could have ever dreamed of. Really.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you brushed your lips over his, “I wanted to do it. I loved doing it. I love you.”

“Baby, you’re goin’ to be the death of me,” he groaned softly.

“I certainly hope not,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “bedroom, please. We’re not ruining the table.”

“As you wish,” he smiled before kissing you until you were thoroughly breathless and dizzied.

“Happy birthday, Joel.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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ctitan98official · 2 months

Text

Y/N starts a new diet

18+ Minors DNI

Y/N: *Throwing out all of their snacks and junk food*

Peter: *Walks by, tilts his head* What are you doing, Y/N?

Y/N: I’m gonna quit eating all of this processed crap. I think it’ll make me feel better.

Peter: *Impressed* Wow, way to go! That’s a big lifestyle change.

Y/N: Yep! I’m only gonna eat organic stuff from now on.

Peter: Really? I… Don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat one fruit or vegetable.

Y/N: *Confused* Who said I was gonna eat fruits and vegetables?

Peter: Uhh- I… Wait, am I missing something? You just said you were only going to eat organic stuff, right?

Y/N: Yeah…?

Peter: So… Fruits and vegetables. What’s more organic than that?

Y/N: *Shrugs* Pussy. It’s nature’s flavor bomb, you know?

Peter: >:0 Y/N!

Y/N: I’m just so glad Nat’s on board with my new diet! Now, I don’t even have to go to the store to get food. I can just chill and have breakfast in bed.

Peter: *Retches* Y/N, you can’t live off of just… That!

Y/N: Sure I can! I’ll be getting all the NAT-rition I need! *Laughs wildly*

Natasha: *Suddenly walks in*

Y/N: *Blanches, finally stops spewing idiocy, realizes they’ve been running their mouth too much* B-babe!

Peter: *Eyes shoot wide open, panics* N-Natasha! I… Uhh… What a beautiful day we’re having, right?! I can’t remember ever seeing a more beautiful day! The sun is out and it’s so… Sunny! Hahahaha!

Natasha: *Quirks an eyebrow at Peter, weirded out* Um… Yeah, it’s great, Peter. I’m glad you’re enjoying the sunshine. *Turns to Y/N, kisses them on the cheek* How’s cleaning out all of the junk food going, detka?

Y/N: *Quickly throws their last bag of snacks away, trying to seem innocent* I j-just finished!

Natasha: I’m so proud of you, Y/N. *Pinches their cheek affectionately*

Y/N: *Chuckles anxiously* Hehe. Thanks, babe… *Looks away, scratching their head*

Peter: *Nervously twiddling his thumbs*

Natasha: *Narrows her eyes suspiciously as she looks between Y/N and Peter* I clearly walked in on you two discussing something. Care to fill me in?

Y/N: *Tries to think of a good lie* Well, I was going through all the snacks and Pete was-

Peter: Minding his own business! *Runs away, screaming* You’re on your own, Y/N!

Y/N: *Mutters under their breath* Coward…

Natasha: *Crosses her arms, turns to Y/N* … Detka?

Y/N: *Begins to sweat* Yeah, babe?

Natasha: Were you talking about something with Peter that I wouldn’t approve of? That seems to be your favorite hobby.

Y/N: *Gives her big puppy dog eyes, trying to placate her* Don’t freak out-

Natasha: *Groans* Oh damn it, Y/N! What did you say to Peter?!

Y/N: Uhh…

Natasha: *Glares at Y/N* I swear if you told him about our sex life or something you’ll be shitting teeth for a week.

Y/N: *Cringes* Umm… No, I didn’t! I mean, not really! But, the conversation was about something sort of… Sex life… Adjacent? I just got carried away, that’s all!

Natasha: ???

Y/N: I was telling Pete about my new organic diet! Your coochie’s next level and I just wanted to brag a bit-

Natasha: *Cheeks flaming, mortified, goes over to bang her head on one of the nearby cabinets* You’ve scarred Peter for life now! He’ll never be the same!

Y/N: *Waves their hand dismissively* He’ll be fine… Maybe.

Natasha: *Growls* I knew I should have said no when you suggested this stupid diet. Consider your dining privileges revoked! *Storms off*

Y/N:

Note: This is cursed… I’m sorry :( Y/N runs off of 50% pussy, 30% stupidity, and 20% Peter’s tears.

Also… Based on the way that chocolate looks on Patrick’s face… Y/N eats ass too 😂

Masterlist

#marvel mcu #mcu #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #peter parker #y/n is stupid #mcu incorrect quotes

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f10werfae · 1 year

Text

A Virgin’s Lesson

pairing: Boyfriend!Dom!Henry x Virgin!Shy!Girlfriend!Reader

summary: When Henry finds out his virgin girlfriend’s needs, and her fears, he takes it upon himself to teach her a finger or two(Dom Henry‼️) (requested by anon)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Y/n settled into bed beside Henry for the first time, since becoming a couple. Letting herself fall into his big thick arms as he pulled her snug and close; it was their first ever sleepover as a couple, 6 months in, and God was she nervous. “Why are you shaking pumpkin, am I not warming you up enough?” Henry smirked putting his hands up underneath her oversized shirt, his hands softly petting her stomach.

“N-no i’m not cold” Y/n said coldly not moving an inch, scared that if she did, she’d find herself enjoying it a bit too much. His thick fingers just scratching up and down the flesh on her stomach softly, humming against her skin as he kissed her neck and shoulders, his body clad in nothing but a pair of boxers. Superman ones to be exact.

Henry’s fingers suddenly stopped their affectionate journey, “Hey love, can I ask you something?” He whispered right against the shell of her ear, sending tingles down his lover’s spine as he kissed it slightly as well. Y/n shuffled herself back more into his chest, nodding, anticipating his next words.

“Are you scared of me?” You can be honest, i’ve been noticing you can’t seem to talk or move when you’re within centimetres of me” Henry asked propping himself up on his elbow, watching as Y/n moved to lay on her back, her eyes focused on her twiddling fingers which Henry then grabbed and interlaced with his.

“No. I’m not scared of you Hen”

“Then what on Earth is it? Do I smell bad or something?” He joked brushing back a bit of her hair, kissing her cheek softly, his hand then settling to cup her jaw. “It’s embarrassing and it’s stupid”

“It’s not embarrassing or stupid if it’s bothering my lovely woman, now come on you, out with it”

“Well y-you know i’ve never really done like, a-anything with guys before; with you I get this weird- this weird feeling of wanting to do things” Y/n whispered meeting his icy blue eyes, his smile softened into a cute little smirk as he leant in and kissed her lips for what must be, the thousandth time that hour. He was so incredibly loving and doted on her constantly, knowing how much of a shy bee she was when it came to men, especially one the size of Henry.

“Then what’s stopping you lovebug?” He whispered, his lips brushing against hers as he talked, in fact they were so close that when he went to wet his lips, she couldn’t help but jolt at the feeling of his wet tongue on her pouty lips.

“I-I’m a bit nervous” She whispered back,

“Wan’ me to help?, i’ll help you okay? If that’s what you want of course?”

“It is, it’s what I w-want” Y/n stuttered feeling giggly, her cheeks growing warm in Henry’s hands. “Going to get you comfy first okay? Just lay back for me baby” Henry urged letting her lay back against his side, his arm wrapped around her shoulder tightly, his hands slowly venturing down towards the hem of her sleep shirt.

“Going to lift this cute shirt of yours, and see what’s waiting for me” Henry smirked kissing Y/n’s nose lightly, watching as her beautiful eyes widened, her hands holding onto his other one tightly. His large paw sensually slid up her shirt, settling on top of her cotton underwear, growling when he felt how wet she was already.

“Fuck baby, lesson 1, when you’re this wet you just call me yeah? You’re too pretty to be left like this, my poor baby” He moaned showing her the string of slick connecting his fingers as he separated them as he held his hand up, before returning his hands this time to the hem of her underwear.

“Be quiet for me honey, wanna hear how wet your pussy is, that okay?” He growled feeling the nestle of curls surrounding her honey centre, his thick fingertips brushing over her sensitive sticky folds, he could already tell she would taste as sweet as day.

“W-woah, that feels good” Y/n whined in shock, never did she ever play with herself, always hearing that it was unladylike while growing up. Her hands held Henry’s other hand to her chest, tucking her head closer to his chest, she felt his fingers slip and glide through her second set of lips.

His breaths getting deeper once he came back to her clit, easily found once he realised the poor thing had been sitting out of her wet lips, clearly needing some of his undying love and attention. “Can I rub your clit baby? S’gonna feel good, I promise” He whispered nuzzling his head against hers, a smirk on his face when Y/n almost instantly widened her legs for him.

Slowly rubbing small circles onto her pussy, Henry felt himself grow hard against her thigh, acknowledging the fact that she had now started sucking on his thumb to keep herself quiet like he had asked her to. The only sounds filling the room were her muffled whimpers and the wet slaps of her pussy lips being rubbed together vigorously by the hunk of a man.

Sliding his hands down to her hole, her wide eyes blinked up at him, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks; all with his massive thumb pressing down on her tongue like some clamp. “You feel good baby? Daddy loves making his woman feel good, such a soft little pussy too” He groaned, curious as to how she would react to the new nickname he gave himself..

“Awk baby you like that?” He taunted feeling her pussy clench around two of his fingers instantly, almost like a vacuum sucking them in. Y/n nodded helplessly, Henry’s lips raining wet open mouthed kisses all over her face, trying to ease the pain as he thrusted his fingers in and out mercilessly.

“You’re going to have to learn to take my fingers, how else are you going to take my cock?” He said softly, his fingers now going slower and deeper, tiny gasps leaving Y/n as his thumb reached back up to her rubbed raw clit. Her hips rolling gently against his hand subconsciously, whimpers sounding from around his thumb.

“C-can do it” Y/n said muffled, her other hand grabbing onto her boyfriends hand herself, thrusting it and out of her at a faster pace than his. Pulling his thumb out of her mouth, Henry used his arm behind her head to nudge her head up, his lips instantly clamping down onto hers, it was less kissing and more exchanging saliva. Slow, hot and snuggly, that was the way Henry saw this whole thing, an act of care and love for his darling girlfriend.

“Okay okay baby, tell daddy when you’re close” Henry whispered breaking their kiss, his forehead leaning against hers, her exasperated breaths fanning his face once he felt her clit stiffen and her tight hole clench again.

“H-Henry, feel somethin here, k-keep going” Y/n whimpered, pointing towards the pit of her stomach, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. The sounds of Henry’s hand against her wet pussy filled the room, along with her loud cries and whimpers, oh and Henry’s whispers of reassurance

“Doing so good for me honey” “I love you so much, thank you for trusting me” “Gonna sleep with you in my arms after this”

“So close Hen, so close” Y/n breathed out rapidly, her chest rising as she felt a wave of pleasure rush over her, her hips jerking wildly against Henry’s palm. His fingers softly rubbing her clit with care to let her ride out her high, his other hand rubbing her cheek softly, his superstar smile on his face.

“T-thank you” Y/n whispered out, leaning up to kiss his lips a bit sloppily, returning back to her shy demeanour. “Anyone tell you how beautiful you look after you orgasm?” Henry teased smirking, but he wasn’t lying, her hair all roughed up and her face all dazed was definitely now one of his favourite looks on her.

“Hen! You know you’re-“

“Yup i’m the first man and will be the only man to see you like this. Thanks for reminding me” He winked leaning down and kissing her again, his hand rubbing her swollen pussy over her underwear, her hand hitting his chest jokingly as she suddenly looked down.

“oh, well h-hello” She said adorably, noticing the tent built up in his boxers, an even more nervous look on her face.

“Don’t worry love, that lesson’s for another day, let me just feel you for now”

———

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ghouljams · 10 months

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Living vicariously through Bee, can we have Bee either impulsively purchases or has new livestock bestowed upon her, except…she has no place to put them. And Königs like god dammit (affectionate) and helps her build a ramshackle paddock to keep them in for the time being. Can include whatever kinky or plot shit you want, competency kink, size difference, stronk, whatever. I just need validation cause I just had to help my dad build a quarantine paddock in the burning sun this afternoon cause he impulsively bought more sheep 😭

Maelstrom you fuckin beauty I am so here for this. Bee is exactly the type to fall victim to the supply store chicks and bring home way too many because she wanted them to have friends. She is not made for farming but she loves animals and is so stupid. This is going to be very little relevant plot stuff and mostly me making König's life harder.

You call König as soon as you get home, worrying your lip with your teeth and staring at your new family member. You need to have a good long talk with yourself about impulse decisions and saying no to your neighbors. The line hardly rings twice before it picks up.

"What's wrong?" König asks instead of a greeting. You don't know why something has to be wrong for you to call him. Although thinking about it there's usually something wrong when you call him.

“You have to promise not to be mad.” You hear König exhale over the phone, a slow release of pressure.

“I promise I won’t be mad.”

"Ok, I- actually don't know where to start," you tell him honestly, that seems to work best with him. There's a short beat before he tells you,

"I'll be right there."

König stares down at the little pig you hold aloft for him to see. It’s eyes are almost as big and shiny as yours, it's little nose snuffles as you stare entreatingly at him and god dammit he can't say no to you.

"You need a paddock, and a shed." He tells you, already making a mental list of what he’ll need to grab from his place.

"Is a paddock like a little fenced area?” You ask, holding your squirmy piglet like a baby. König nods.

“Do you have a paddock?” Sometimes it feels like he’s really holding your hand through a conversation. You swear you’re not normally this stupid.

“I have a busted up fence behind the house.”

“Show me.”

König crouches next to one of the old fence posts behind your house, testing its stability before nailing up the wire netting he’d grabbed from home. He tips the brim of his hat with his finger to glance at the rest of the posts in the area, quick mental math buzzing and filling in where he’d need to put missing posts. When he stands again the roll of his shoulders as he straightens to full height is mesmerizing. You don’t think you’d properly internalized just how strong he must be. Watching him work is certainly… enlightening.

He’s really good at this, and you- you have nothing to add that could help. If you’re being totally honest with yourself, you would’ve been completely lost without him to here. Your heart clenches in your chest watching him twirl his hammer idly. You should really be doing something besides watching him. The flex of his bicep as he wraps his hand around the next post and shakes it, the tightness in his back as he raises the hammer and brings it down hard on the top of the post to force it further into the ground... You let out a pleased hum involuntarily. Are you proud of your ineptitude? No. Is seeing König work sort of worth it? Absolutely.

“You sure I can’t help?” You ask, more to be polite than to actually offer. König glances at you, the soft patterned sundress, the sandals, and shakes his head. No, the only thing you need to do is keep looking at him like that.

“Don’t need any help,” He sits back on his heels, staring at the fence post for a moment, before he looks back at you, “actually, if you had something to drink?”

You nod quickly, feeling like just the worst host in the world. You’d been so busy drooling over how hot your poor neighbor is you’d forgotten how hot he must be working out here. You can see the sweat on his skin, the wetness of his shirt where it sticks to him, of course he’s thirsty.

“I’ve got some lemonade, how’s that?”

“Perfect, thank you Hummelchen.” You smile at the nickname, whatever it means it feels affectionate and it makes you happy. You’ve never had a nickname before.

You steal a last look at the flex of his biceps before scurrying back to the house. This you can do, piling ice high in a glass and pouring lemonade just to where you think it might spill. You pop another glass in the freezer for later and feel fairly pleased with yourself, thinking ahead for once. You grab the glass to take out to König, careful not to spill as you cross the grass.

He's back to working hard, tapping nails into fence posts, and making sure everything is as secure as possible for you. For you. He's doing this for you. Just like he does everything for you, and doesn't ask for shit in return. It would be hot if you weren't starting to worry you're taking advantage of him. He looks up when he hears you approaching, his eyes crinkling pleasantly at the edges. He doesn't seem to mind helping you out. You should really find a way to return the favor.

You hold the glass out to him, "Looking good!"

He hums, fingers bumping yours as he takes the glass causing some of the drink to spill over your grip. He wants to tell you you're more than welcome to stay and watch, that he likes feeling your gaze so heavy on him, so appreciative, but he stops.

You lick the sticky sweet drink from your fingers without thinking, a terrible habit you've picked up living alone. König's eyes trace the motion, the soft pink of your tongue as it slides over your fingers. His own fingers tightening on the cool glass, feeling the creak of it trying to hold up under his grip. You don't know what you do to him, making an inquisitive noise at his staring, wiping the wet of your fingers on your skirt.

"You need something else?" You ask, König's voice catches in his throat. You. You. God, only you. You're all he needs and then some. You really must not know. Fuck, he wants to show you, wants to make sure you know how your every movement affects him. Maybe then you wouldn't be so spectacularly naive.

"No," he finally grits. You grin, just happy to have helped even a little.

"Just grab me if you do, I gotta finish up the laundry but I'll be back for your glass." You pat the post nearest you with finality and turn back to the house. König watches you go, thumb rubbing at the condensation on the glass.

König's hand settles on your shoulder as you're pinning sheets in place on the line. It makes you jump a little, you'd been thinking and hadn't heard him walk up.

"Paddock's done," His hand is damp with sweat and dirt, his voice almost as warm as the air. You glance over your shoulder at him and have to pretend you're not staring. It's weird he'd lose the shirt and not the bandana but you're not complaining. He's littered with scars but they only add to the appeal of the cut musculature, did he walk out of a museum? He's gorgeous, and your throat feels dry for any sane words but "wow" and "Holy shit" and "do you mind if I just touch you for a little." You tear your eyes away from his abs to look at the paddock.

Perfectly straight fence and evenly spaced poles, your new critter already snuffling about in the grass. There's even water and food troughs, you wonder if he found those in the old shed or if he brought them from his place. Somehow the well fit fence makes him all the more attractive.

"You'll need a shed for it, but it should be fine for tonight." König tells you, you nod a little and swallow the drool you're working on.

"Piggy smalls can sleep in the house, he's little so-" you cut yourself off, the questioning concern in König's eye makes you think you've said something wrong again.

"Is that what you've named it?" You nod quickly and hear him snort.

"You like it?" You ask, just to hear him tell you no.

"It's very... you." He says after a moment, smile wide enough you can almost see the edges under his bandana. Butterflies kick up in your stomach and you twist your fingers into your skirt so you don't reach to try and touch him.

"Are you staying for dinner?" You ask quickly, before you lose the nerve to say anything to him.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Yes."

He likes the way you say it, like a sigh. Like you could never say anything else to him. "Then I'll stay."

#cowboy!König #oc: bee #könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x reader #x reader #god theyre so silly #hes stalking you queen!! stop inviting him over!!!#bee reads dark romances shed probably think it was hot #thats Love levels of crazy

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