#and try. If you find God you have the feeling it would just stare at you blankly. Then laugh.
Note
🫐 - jake! maybe about reader having some hardships during her pregnancy but baby daddy jake would be ready to do anything for her comfort !!
rejecting his kisses | sjy
pairing: husband!jake x wife!reader
genre: fluff bro what else i write 😭😭
synopsis: reader is growing sensitive day by day to touches and snaps at jake, jake being a mature husband handles the situation well.
everything felt so much more overwhelming, jake kept a family dinner and everyone was over, his members and his family.
“how are my babies doing?” jake said as he nuzzled his nose in your neck as you moved back in annoyance.
oh he noticed it but shrugged it off, maybe it was just a silly reaction right?
the sound of everyone talking at the same time in their own conversation rings around in your ears making it hard for you to keep up with everything jake had his hands on you the whole day, hugging you from behind, talking to his friends and family with a hand on your bump, rubbing your nose agaisnt his, kissing your cheeks, lips and forehead. yeah sounds cute but not when you’re feeling everything a little too much.
what is going on.
it was so bad that you had to shut your room door so loud and settle on the bed,
there you were, pregnant and finally on your thrid trimester with your annoying husband being extra touchy anywhere he could find you at.
rubbing your temples you sat on the bed, grabbed the water from the beside table and starting chugging it down.
meanwhile, jake who already spotted your absensce in the living room came in “bub?” you heard his voice and your brain gave a reaction not again.
he walks in as you don’t even dare to look at him in the eye, your eyes closed as you take deep breath.
“did i do something” he leans over to your face while staring deep “no..” u say as he hums in question he sits beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder “are you oka-“ you cut him off,
“no- just no- please okay? please just get your hands off of me please jake. stay away from me i am not feeling all your touches just leave me the fuck alone.” you say raising your voice.
the next thing you see is tears in jake’s eyes as he looks away from you trying to hold them in.
“i am sorry.”
a moment of complete silence goes by as you rest your head on the headboard.
you notice him avoiding your looks and turning to the other side, hesitant to ask you if you need anything again.
“did i do something wrong?” he asks out of curiosity “i won’t touch you if—“
“no i dont know.. i am sorry i dont feel like getting touched i dont know.. i don’t know why i am being like this i don’t know” as you’re saying he turns around and comes closer to you.
attentively listening as he brings a hand to tug your hair strand back.
“hey no no it’s fine, its completely fine yeah, this is super normal for pregnant women to feel..” he says as tears start spilling from your eyes because of how understanding he is.
jake has always put your perspective before his, always understanding everything you did, always finding a reason for your actions and letting you express yourself, god you think what did you do to deserve him.
“b-but jake” you say as he holds your face in his hands and squishes your cheeks trying to calm you down.
“at this stage you’ve grown more sensitive. to touches to words to noises to everything” he says bringing his hands back to himself, “isn’t it?”
you nod in agreement as he adds “so don’t ever blame yourself about all this okay? i love you just how it is. nothing will ever change that”
you look at him and take his hand and place it on your belly, he makes sure to keep it exactly where you kept and not rub it because of muscle memory
he pauses and lets out a little laugh as he feels the baby kicking where his arm is placed “just try not to be as aggressive as you were okay?” you nod once again as he kisses your cheeks wiping your tears off his lips.
“baby doesn’t like hearing mum and dad argue does it?” he says as he feels another kick to his palm as you both laugh out of surprise.
it makes you giggle, mood swings are crazy.
#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen#sim jaeyun#enha#enhypen scenarios#jake#enhypen jake#jake sim#jake enhypen#jake x reader#jake fluff#enhypen soft hours
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Tease ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
⋆˙⟡♡ Summary: You aren’t sure when teasing your sensei over text became such a ritual, but honestly you wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else. You just never expected him to show up at your door.
⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: (Y/N) is aged up to 18 and is a third year!!! Please enjoy!!
⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Sexting | Gojo Gives You Head | Masturbation | Jealous Gojo | Gojo Plays With His Beautiful Thick Cock
(Y/n): “I just want you to know how disappointed I am in you, Sensei."
You decided to tease him over text.
(Y/n): “Ya know what you did is technically illegal, right?”
Ghoejo Sensei: “~Oh?”
(Y/n): “Mhmm.”
Ghoejo Sensei: “~It’s only illegal if you didn’t like it, but you liked it. Didn’t you?”
With a subtle twitch, you giggle at the memory from earlier…
You and Itadori were training with the others while Gojo Sensei observed everyone from his spot on the school building. Exhausted, you had decided to grace him with your presence, joining him leaned back against the same wall.
“Aren’t you going to get in there and rough us up, Sensei?”
He could feel your beaming warm smile. Just being around you made his day.
Laughing, Gojo’s voice was filled with pure excitement as always when with you, “Nah, i like watching everyone get thrown around…” -his voice was low so only you could hear-, “…(y/n), you really shouldn’t wear such a short skirt during training.”
“Oh?! Why’s tha-“
“Some might try to sneak a peek.”
That damn smirk of his practically had you melting while your face felt like it was about to catch on fire.
“S-Sensei? W-why would you say that!?”
Just as you were about to adjust your skirt, you heard the unmistakable snap of a camera shutter, indicating that a photo was being taken on a phone. Glancing down where the noise had come, you were shocked -not really- to discover your sensei positioning his phone under your skirt at an angle where he could see right between your legs…
Staring at the screen, you could see your black lace panties staring back at you as he tried to get another good shot.
He’s never been so bold like this in front of other students… Let alone out in the open on school property. If one of the others saw anything you- fuck, or the higher ups… you both would be kicked off the grounds and- and- oh god the reputation!
Gojo’s would be tarnished and you- … Okay you didn’t really have a reputation to worry about, but still! You damn well would after everyone finds out you’ve been sleeping with the famous sorcerer, also known as your Sensei!! This was far too risky of him-
Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Gojo never once looked in your direction, “~Shhh… No one saw, (y/n). Go back to training though, before i puni-”
“Hey! (Y/n)! Are you coming back!” Itadori was waving for you to come back over to them, his foot on Megumi’s back.
Now here you are, back in your room, lying on your bed with restless legs as you texted your beloved Sensei.
(Y/N): “I didn’t say I enjoyed it, Sensei 🥺.”
You tried to make the text sound innocent, but you knew how he liked to play games. So, why not play along?
(Y/n): “What did I gain by you snapping a photo? Perhaps I should tell the higher ups?”
GhoeJo Sensei: “~Oh ho, are you threatening me little girl?”
Chuckling to yourself, you could just picture the smug expression on Gojo's face. He wasn't intimidated by you at all, and you were well aware of it. Yet, you found the whole situation amusing.
(Y/n): “Noooo, never! …But… what if I confided in Itadori? Sukuna would hear what happened, and I don’t think he’d like that all too well, now would he?”
Although you couldn't see it, Gojo's playful smile vanished immediately as he read your latest text. He spent several minutes just looking at the screen. It was true, Sukuna had grown quite fond of you- to an extent that was hard to ignore. Sukuna had even managed to gain control over Yuji, solely to rescue you from a special grade curse. On another occasion, Sukuna took control of Itadori's arm, just to drape it around your waist according to what Yuji had told him… And there was that time the notorious king of curses forcibly broke down your room’s door...
Not even realizing how hard he was holding his phone, Gojo’s eyes snapped open fully to the sound of his delicate screen cracking… “tsk..”
Several minutes passed before his phone chimed. It took him a moment to register that you had sent him a photo, a close up shot at that, and it left little to the imagination. You were pulling up your thong so that the contours of your pussy lips could be seen through the thin fabric. Gojo took note of the small little damp spot… It was a simple yet effective tease, but before he could fully appreciate the image, another photo arrived.
In this one, the fabric was pulled taut, accentuating the details even more explicitly. This time, you were pulling up your panties high enough so that they were digging into your crotch, exposing those sweet little pussy lips he could lap at all day long.
(Y/n): “That’s what you wanted, right Sensei? You know if you just wanted photo’s all you had to do was ask 😉.”
After pressing the send button, you swiftly undressed shedding each layer of fabric from your body. As you stripped down the anticipation grew, wondering what your sensei might have in store for you. The silence that followed the Sukuna text left you questioning if it had truly affected him though…
Now completely naked, you position yourself on the bed, ready to capture one final enticing image. On your knees, your tongue playfully extended from your mouth, while your lips form a 'O' shape. With the camera angled just right, it captures the perfect view deep down your throat. Using your free hand, you do your best to mimic the imagery of holding a cock next to your plump lips mouth, your drool cascading down the corners of your lips…
(Y/n): *image*
Ghoejo Sensei: “You’re such a naughty girl for me. ~I’m gonna have to spank you the next time I see you.”
Taking a deep breath you press your face into your bed, raising your ass in the air. Your arm stretched back with your phone, positioning it so that your wet folds could be captured along with your ass.
(Y/n): *image*
Ghoejo Sensei: “Are you touching yourself to my texts, baby girl? Is that tight little pussy craving my attention?"
Your hips moved back and forth as the pad of your middle finger slowly rubbed your clothed clit. It was so sensitive that just the slightest touch would cause a small jolt through your body.
(Y/n): “wouldn’t you like to know.”
Ghoejo Sensei: voice message
Pressing play on the voice message, you can hear the rustling of sheets and clothes being thrown around. Your body shivers when his voice begins.
Ghoejo Sensei: “Don’t worry, daddy will come take care of you.”
A soft whimper leaves your lips. Closing your eyes, you imagine your tall, lean sensei standing in the doorway. His head tilted slightly downward, allowing the shadows to conceal his face except for that damn smug smile…
You could feel your face flush, this was so embarrassing… What if someone barged in your room… Especially Itadori, well Sukuna… Burying the thought deep within your head, you lift your phone above your ass again with the camera pointed down and with your other hand you did your best to spread open your delicate asshole. With a snap and a simple click, you send it…
(Y/n): “I’m ready and waiting.”
Gojo was lying on his bed, his pants undone, hand pumping his cock slowly. With each text he would read, his hand would increase its speed.
(Y/n): *image*
When he saw the last photo, his phone was practically crushed by his tight grip. He could feel his balls tighten as precum began to spill from the tip of his thick cock, the veins swollen around it giving it a nice texture. The sight of your tight hole had him biting his lip as the image replayed in his head, and the fact that you were spreading your asshole to reveal it just for him made him cum instantly.
He could barely breathe, his chest rising and falling as his cum spurted across his chest. His head was thrown back as he released a strangled groan, “such a naughty little tease”.
Of course he wasn’t tired quite yet, he had the stamina of a god and he became rock hard once again. He already looked at you differently from his other students and now after this he really wasn’t going to be able to look at you as just his student he’s having a fling with again. You were a sexual object to be desired now, someone he wished to keep forever, but at this very moment he would give anything to be the reason your asshole was gapping in this picture or why you were drooling in your first photo.
Ghoejoe: “You should come sneak in my room, again.”
You didn’t obliged, instead you sent a string of photos detailing you fingering your ass and probing your slick pussy with two fingers after. Playing with your breasts, rolling your nipples between your fingers, you even captured yourself throwing your head back as you tugged on one of your nipples, as if you were a cow ready to be milked.
You had to admit to yourself that you loved doing this, spreading your legs like some whore for her sensei… The thought alone sent shivers of pleasure throughout your entire body.
Gojo: *image*
It was a photo of his beautiful cock, the head still a deep red and swollen. His thick shaft was covered in his own cum and a bit of precum. You could feel the juices leaking from your pussy as you stared at the photo.
Grabbing your pink vibrator from your dresser you pressed it into your welcoming pussy, your eyes glued to the photo the entire time. Turning the dial to its max setting, the buzzing could be heard as you slid the toy in and out. Pulling the toy out, you quickly placed the head to your sensitive clit, rolling it around your nub. The thought of his large hands on you again was turning you into a moaning mess, you could feel your juices slip past your toy and onto the sheets, could feel yourself cream around the base of it. Fuck, why couldn’t he be here with you now, you needed your sensei, needed your Satoru to come take care of you.
Your hand was trembling making it hard to hold onto your phone yet you still managed to capture a photo of you mid orgasm. There was a stream of clear liquid in the frame, your face full of shock at having squirted was apparent. You couldn’t believe how dirty you felt, it was intoxicating.
“~Oh baby girl, you’re so filthy! Look at you, you’ve gone and made quite the mess.”
Your phone flung across the room while you made the cutest little yip noise, your legs shutting together at the surprise voice. Gojo appeared in your room, his heavenly blue eyes peering at your from behind his sunglasses. His large hands come to your knees and parted your legs so he can rub between your pussy lips with his thumb…
“S-Sensei… I- Why are you h-here…?” Your voice was so cute to him, you could barely even speak as he rubs your slick entrance.
“You know why i’m here, (y/n). Now, why don’t you tell me what a dirty little girl you are, and maybe I won't have to punish you so hard this time, hm? Tell your sensei how much you were enjoying yourself and maybe I'll let you suck on this cock.”
He leaned down, his head between your legs. Goosebumps forming whenever his snowy hair tickles your soft thighs. With no hesitation he sticks his tongue out to licks up your folds, lapping up your arousal from before.
“Mmm… Sensei~♡! I-i'm a dirty girl- A dirty little whore for you~!”
His tongue was licking all over, teasing your clit with each swipe. He had one hand keeping your legs apart and the other was gripping the sheets.
“Tell me what you're a whore for, baby girl~.”
His hot breath against your wet pussy, the way his nose nudges against your sensitive nub.
“I-I'm a dirty- A dirty little cockwhore, S-sensei~. I want you- Need your cock in my- ah~! in my mou-mouth, in my pus- pussy, my ass~~~♡!!”
The way your hips bucked with every swipe of his tongue, the way your breathing was uneven and shaky. Oh the sounds you were making, the moans, the whimpers. His eyes almost rolled back at the feeling of your juices against his tongue, his lips, “That’s my girl.”
Before you could scream his name you bit down on your lip to silence yourself. You can’t afford to have someone hear this… Not when these walls were so thin… You were finally getting what you wanted tonight, attention from your sensei, Gojo Satoru, and you wanted nothing more than to scream his name… But with Sukuna around, quite literally on the other side of these walls, the price you’d pay would be far greater if he heard you and Gojo going at it…
As your back arches, he moves his hand to press it firmly down on your lower abdomen, a way of trying to pin you down as his tongue delves deeper. You were so close to coming undone, your body was trembling.
Gojo knows he’ll drag this out since it was his favorite form of punishment. And he also knows you hold back your noises so that Sukuna wouldn’t hear, and he knows its for your own safety… However, you had him to protect you, he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to you.
Pulling back from between your legs, you both make eye contact, your chest rising with every heavy breath you take…
“(y/n), don’t hold it back… Say my name tonight. Let him hear it, let him know who you belong to tonight.”
A blush forms as you realize what he said.
Gojo wants him to hear you tonight, to hear how good you were for him. To know that he had a claim on his favorite little student…
“B-but…”
“Tut tut, no buts my sweet little cinnamon swirl. The only buts i’m allowing is this one.” He squeezes your ass, earning another cute little noise from you.
“Goj-Satoru… You- I.. We ca-can’t get caught by anyone though.” There’s tears in your eyes, he can see you’re genuinely afraid for him, not for you…
“(y/n). Let me handle the higher ups and everyone else.” Looking down, he watches as your pussy glistens with his saliva… His thumb brushing over your skin, “I’ve always wanted a good excuse to piss off the higher ups,” -His features soft- “You’re a good reason to fight them, so let’s just enjoy ourselves tonight, and don’t worry about Sukuna.”
His lips came down onto yours tenderly, as if you had both been lovers for years. Your eyes shut tight as his tongue glides across your bottom lip, requesting permission to enter. Opening your mouth, his tongue delves into the warm cavern and his cock twitches.
“I’m stronger after all.” He sticks his tongue out at you with a wink before thrusting his cock inside of your waiting pussy.
You cry out his name, arching your back so far that it hurt, but the pain was forgotten as soon as you felt his hot cock buried deep within your needy pussy.
“Tonight, let me hear you scream my name.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#Gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk satoru#Satoru#sukuna#sukuna x reader
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His Car isn't Yours
He’s Mark Lee. He’s smart, handsome, a gentleman — everyone’s ideal boyfriend. He’s everything. Oh my god, girls would die to be in your spot. And yet, you felt uneasy as he took you on a date.
Oh right. You remember. Mark Lee is not him.
Word count: 2.5k
Tags: Fluff, angst. Mentions of NCT Dream Members. Mentions of sexual innuendo (just a few!)
Song Inspiration: His Car isn’t Yours by Wendy
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
“How about this?” you asked over the video call. It’s almost seven in the evening and you’re still in your bathrobe, raiding your closet while showing it to your best friend. You couldn’t help it. You’re sweating and nervous.
“Did he mention where he’ll take you?” your best friend Donghyuck said over the phone.
“It’s a surprise he said, he just said dress pretty — what does he mean by that!?”
You heard Donghyuck’s hum for a minute. “Okay, ditch the pants and wear a nice dress and sandals.”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver Hyuck,” you said to him before proceeding to find the baby blue summer dress that you rarely wear. It was adorned with white flowers, the skirt being just above your knee and hugging your figure perfectly.
“Well of course! I couldn’t believe it!” Donghyuck squeals, you can see him jumping in his bed excitingly. “You’re going on a date with Mark, everyone wants him, you know that?”
Your smile faded when you heard your best friend’s comment. As the dress fit onto yours, you couldn’t help but to stare at the mirror. Suddenly, this idea was bad.
“Yn, don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” Donghyuck asked.
“What?” you only laughed, trying to brush off Donghyuck’s words. “No, of course not! You’re crazy.”
“Great, because this is the perfect opportunity for you to get over that jerk.”
Right. Donghyuck’s right. It’s time for you to get over him. It’s been a few months since you two broke up. It was a disaster and you remember crying in your best friend’s arms for a few hours until you passed out because you were too dehydrated. Donghyuck cursed him and you swore that that night Donghyuck swore all the curses that he could think of because of your ex-boyfriend.
It took you a while to pick up yourselves. Slumping yourself on your academics and studies just to get over him. But no matter how much you tried, there were nights that you cried and wondered, what went wrong with the two of you? You never attempted to move on from him. You’re still holding onto that small hope that maybe. Maybe. He’ll show up in your footsteps and ask for another chance.
But he didn’t and instead, Mark Lee somehow waited for you outside the hallways of your building, asking you if you two can go out for some coffee. Schemingly, Donghyuck agreed on your behalf, convincing you that you should just try it.
It was the first time you smiled in months. Mark was nice. He was easy to converse with, and he’s also good-looking to start with. You two enjoyed the cup of coffee, and it ended up with you asking what was his intention.
“I thought I was being obvious,” he laughs. A shy smile formed on his lips. “I’ve liked you ever since yn.”
You remember being caught off-guard with his sudden confession, you don’t know why but you feel your cheeks heating up because of it. Maybe, you were flustered by his sudden confession. You watch as Mark shyly looks away, and you don’t know why but a part of you wants to know where this will end.
That’s where you are right now. Wearing your baby blue dress, doing some finishing touches on your makeup while you’re waiting for Mark to pick you up. You agreed to have a date with him, and for once, you wanted to not mop around because of your ex-boyfriend.
“Oh wow, you look gorgeous,” Donghyuck compliments. “Hope you get dicked tonight.”
You laughed as you sprayed your perfume on you, “I’m not planning to.”
“That’s sad of you boo,” Donghyuck sticks out his tongue and as you put on your shoes, you hear Mark’s car parking in front of your place.
“Fuck, okay I got to go,” you said, grabbing your phone to say goodbye to your friend.
“Goodluck on your date! Tell me the deets tomorrow!” your best friend said one last time before hanging up. You only smile as you grab some few things and place them in your bag. As you went out of your place, you saw Mark leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone.
You stop midway, remembering that it was Mark who’s picking you up, and not him. It’s Mark, who’s hair is dyed blonde, leaning against his Honda Civic which is a different model that your ex-boyfriend drives.
You watch as Mark glances at you and does a double take, he puts his phone on his jean’s pocket as he approaches you with a smile.
“Wow,” he breathes. “You look so beautiful.”
Right. You remembered. That tonight isn’t about him, it’s about you and Mark and the hopes that you may find someone better than your ex.
“Thank you,” you only said. “You look handsome too.”
Mark lets out a chuckle, “should we get going?”
You only nod as Mark guides you towards his car, opening the car door for you which makes your heart flutter. The seat was comfortable and the interiors of the car looked interesting. Your eyes scanned the inside and noticed how it’s polished clean. Even the smell is nice and not those heavy air purifiers that pierces through your nostrils.
Mark enters the car, and his hands trail towards the seat belt, placing yours first before his.
“I’ll just put the music on shuffle, but if you want, you can connect your phone if you want to play any songs that you want,” he said, pressing play on the car’s stereo.
“I love this song!” you said, humming along the song.
Mark only smiles as he watches you dance lightly to the song, he revved the engine and started driving. He taps on the steering wheel as you continue to sing. He finds you cute, enticed by the lyrics of the song and even attempting to hit the high note.
“Oh by the way, where are we going?” you asked.
“It’s a surprise,” he teased.
“Any hint at least?”
Mark hums for a moment, “it's outskirts of the town.”
You became quiet, wondering what he means by outskirts. It’s either on the hills where the grassfield is clean and a perfect place for a picnic. Donghyuck gossips to you that it's supposedly a perfect hideaway for hookups and sex.
You glanced at Mark for a second and your heart started beating. There’s no way he’s going to bring you there. It’s too early! But a part of you thinks that Mark isn’t that type of guy who wants you for sex, so maybe it’ll be a wholesome picnic.
Hopefully.
But as your mind starts to panic, he turns left which is the complete opposite towards the side, your eyes widen. You know where this is going.
“We’re here!” he said, parking his car in front of the restaurant. As you step outside, you can feel the wind gently sweeping your skirt. You glanced at the sign. It was neon green, blinking due to its weariness. It’s been years since you went here and a sense of nostalgia hit on you.
“I can’t believe you brought me here,” you said with an amused tone. “I loved this place when I was a kid! I hope they still have their karaoke here.”
“I’m sure it’s still here,” Mark said. “Should we get inside?”
The interiors are still the same as when you were kids. The smell and the vibe, it’s all there! You see the karaoke on the diner’s corner and you can see that it’s still working, just waiting for a patron to drop a coin and pick a song number.
You and Mark chose the seat on the corner of the restaurant. It has a couch instead of the usual chairs, that’s why it’s more comfortable for both of you. The restaurant wasn’t that crowded with people, but it was still bustling with noises.
After the waitress wrote down your orders, your eyes couldn’t stop scanning the place. It is a memorable place for you. Your parents always bring you there on your birthdays or whenever you get good grades. You weren’t able to return to the restaurant ever since your parents moved to another country for work. You long forgotten about the restaurant too, that’s why it was a surprise that Mark brought you there.
“How did you know about this place?” you asked.
“This has been a popular restaurant ever since I was kid,” Mark explained. “I was craving their chicken and fries that’s why I brought you here.”
You laughed at his explanation but you saw his genuine side about it, “thanks. It’s been a long time since I went here.”
Mark only smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you loved it.”
As your order arrived, you and Mark downed on the food while at the same time continued your conversation. You two recalled the memories you two had when you were kids. Even listing down the songs you used to sing at the karaoke. Mark was convinced that at some point, when you two were kids, you two met at the restaurant.
Halfway through the slice of strawberry shortcake that you two ordered. You decided to be bold, standing up and approaching the karaoke.
“Are you going to sing dear? The songbook is on the side,” the waitress said with a bright smile.
You gave her a smile, “I hope my favourite song is still here.”
As you pressed the number, you were surprised that Madonna’s Crazy for You is still listed. You placed down the coin and the familiar tune began to fill the air. Applause from the customer began as you sang the lyrics.
You swayed along the song. You watch as the customers stood up and danced along with you. You turned around and saw Mark, smiling at you and even mouthing “wow” making you smirk as you winked at him. You continued to sing, feeling the rhythm, and then a bright idea popped into your mind.
Slowly, you approached Mark, who at first was embarrassed, but after much convincing from the crowd, he stood up and danced along with you, earning cheers from everyone. As the song ends, you let out a small bow and were about to return to your seat when Mark pulled you.
“Hey, sing with me on this one?” Mark said. You watch as he pressed some number and as soon as he dropped the coin, your heart shrunk.
You know this song. You know damn well this song. Because this is your song with him. The upbeat song of Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now filled the room and you watched as Mark sang the first line. Fuck. He used to sing it with you, because he likes the song so much.
It quickly grasped into your mind that it was Mark who’s you’re singing with, you plastered a smile as you sang along the lyrics. In the eyes of the crowd, you two look like a couple. Two teenagers in love and having the best moment of their life, especially when Mark grabs your hand and twirls you before singing the bridge of the song.
You managed to finish the song, and the crowd cheered, even shouting “Kiss!” from them. Mark tried to brush it off, and you only let out a bitter chuckle because of the awkward situation.
After that whole singing session, you and Mark have called it a night. You were in a daze as you two exited the restaurant. You only snapped out of it when Mark held your hand and intertwined his fingers around it.
“Did I startle you? Sorry,” he was about to let go when you squeezed it lightly.
“No, it’s okay, my energy was just low because of the karaoke,” you explained, smiling at him.
“I had fun,” Mark said with a sincere tone. “I’m really glad that we went there.”
“Well, thank your chicken cravings then,” you teased, making him laugh.
As you two drive to your place. You two fell into a peaceful silence. You only watched as you passed by around the town. You couldn’t help but to lean on to the car window.
Tonight was fun. Being with Mark was fun. But as you sit there in silence your heart couldn’t help but to yearn for him. It’s hard. You wanted to cry and to let out all of your emotions. You wanted to blame him, because right now, he’s occupying your mind when it should be Mark who’s sitting next to you.
And as soon as Mark parks his car in front of your place, you couldn’t help but to stare at your apartment.
“You okay?” Mark asked.
That made you glance at him, “me? Of course, why?”
“You seem to be in very deep thoughts earlier,” Mark explained. “Wouldn’t mind telling me what it is?”
Mark is sweet. He was a gentleman, not to mention, a really popular guy in your university. Everyone wants him. Girls are lining up for him and would die to be in your place. And yet, you couldn’t find yourself lucky that he likes you.
Because Mark is not him. No matter how nice, sweet, and good-looking Mark Lee is. He is not the one you love. And you hoped that this night may change it, but no. He’s still occupying your heart.
“Listen Mark,” you breathe out. “You're sweet and caring, I had fun tonight but…”
You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, you couldn’t bear to hurt Mark after you two just went out. It felt like a jerk move to do so.
But a part of you wants to be frank with him too.
“I just, I don’t think I’m not ready to be in a relationship,” you confessed. “If ever we’ll be together, I wanted to make sure that I can give myself to you but right now —”
“You haven’t moved on from Jeno, haven’t you?”
There it is. Mark mentioned his name and you can feel your heart beating nonstop. God, your ex-boyfriend had you wrapped around his fingers
“I’m sorry,” it was the only thing that you could say.
“No, it’s okay yn,” Mark chuckles. “It’s my fault too, I pursued you too early.”
“No, oh my god. It’s just —-”
“It’s fine yn no worries,” Mark gives you a smile, making you feel more guilty. “But that doesn’t stop me from pursuing you, you know that? I’ll be waiting until you’re ready.”
You could only let out a small smile, but in a split second you leaned onto him to give him a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you Mark, I enjoyed our date tonight.”
“I’m glad you did.”
You bid goodnight to Mark. you gave him a smile one last time before going inside your apartment, as soon as you close the door, you couldn’t help but to lean against the door as you hear his car’s engine slowly fade into the background. You can still feel the coldness of the ac, and the scent of the lavender purifier of Mark’s car lingered on you.
But it felt different. Weird. Unfamiliar because you know that Mark’s car isn’t his.
Pt. 2 Jeno’s POV coming soon.
#nct dream#nct imagines#nct dream fic#nct fic#nct x reader#nct#nct dream imagine#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct mark#nct mark fic#nct mark fluff#nct mark imagines#nct dream mark#mark lee imagines#mark lee fic#mark lee x reader
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3
a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2
cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)
🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.
The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.
Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..
His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.
If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.
Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.
Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"
Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.
Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.
When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.
Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.
Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."
Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.
Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."
Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.
With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."
"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.
Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."
Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.
He can never let Eddie know that.
"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."
Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."
Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."
Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."
Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.
Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.
Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.
"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."
Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.
🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ
Steve is running late.
It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.
Robin's always right.
Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.
For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.
Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.
Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.
Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.
Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.
Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.
It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.
"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.
"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.
"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."
Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.
Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.
It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.
Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.
With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.
Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.
He knows this is the best he's going to get.
"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."
Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"
Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."
Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."
Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.
He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.
"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.
Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"So I have a big question for you..."
Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.
"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."
Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"
Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"
Oh. "I already have a job."
It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."
"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."
Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."
Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."
He doesn't mean it.
🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ
aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso @yesdangerpls
@lingermirth
@adealwithher @antonymeanonyme @stevah-hawcett @samsoble @mugloversonly
@stripey82 @anaibis @mycatsstolemybiscuit @flustratedcas @alfhitchblonde
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@l1lpip @emmabubbles @arepaconchocolate
@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland
#guys really i swear there is a happy ending#ive gone full blown story now#yal hyped me up its your fault#also im so excited for the next part hehehe#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#my writing#platonic stobin#ficlet#angst#hurt comfort#i wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind)#ao3
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single mom x price; PART 4
you try to stay away from john. and, surprisingly so, it turns out that it's not an easy job.
AO3 VERSION
part 1 || part 2 || part 3
You know that you usually keep your promises.
When Janice had to leave for a week and asked you to water her flowers religiously three times a day, you didn’t skip any watering. You stood there, cursed multiple times under your breath with a more or less excited kid on your hip, but you did it. Even if your son was a pain in the ass and tried to destroy every little plant that Janice had because watering three times a day was stupid for him.
When Cassie’s mom came to you, telling you she’s pregnant, scared of having kids in her forties, you were the one that drove her to the abortion clinic and promised not to tell anyone. Because she was terrified of doing this alone, not to mention asking someone else.
Information like this in a small town spreads like weeds in the garden, no matter how hard you try, and you knew it too well. So, as her best pick, you tried to take it like a hero.
And you didn’t even flinch when you heard that they thought you were the one that got rid of the baby, not her. You just stared blankly, acting as calm as ever, even if their stares were too much to bear when you shopped, talked with others. Easy enough, they watched you like hawks.
Eventually, it all calmed down, like the weather after the storm. Everyone started living their own lives again, got invested into another drama, forgetting the situation with abortion clinic. And, Cassie’s mom was eternally grateful for that. Probably still is.
You’re known for keeping your promises and getting the job done, so you really can’t be surprised when the neighbors choose you to be responsible for this year’s neighbors BBQ, something that this town is obsessed with, when it gets warmer. Can’t really blame them, as the town is dead during the winter months.
What is surprising in this situation is the fact that you have to break a promise—but the promise that you made to yourself.
Just because you’re in a committee with John Price. John Price that you wanted to desperately avoid for some time, but right now, he’s looking down at you with a smile, patting your back with encouragement.
“We’re gonna have so much fun with this,” he murmurs, right to your ear. It’s nothing naughty, but it’s enough to make your whole body feel hot, like your body is full of lava. He knows you can’t say no to organizing this BBQ, and if you would, he’d find a way to get you back on board.
And, he for sure noticed that you spoke to him less lately. As you learned, he’s not really a fan of that behavior, so when you go home, you have only one thought in your mind: you’re terrible at keeping distance from John Price. It’s either a terrible coincidence, or he has the help of God to make you run into him every time.
Ironically, the second option sounds more real than the first one, even if it should be the other way.
Planning with him feels easy, though. He’s quick to make a whole concept of the party with you, where exactly the BBQ needs to take place, what can be brought so it will be better than the years before. He’s ambitious enough that he makes small jabs towards the neighbors that hosted years before, saying something about not having a sense of style and stuff that shouldn’t make you laugh, but they do.
When it comes to the practical stuff of the job, it’s a bit different; John doesn’t let you touch anything or lift something by yourself, god forbid you try to say that you’re going to help him with moving things. The irritation because of it is enough for you to try to confront him, but he just shushes you. He says something about having “the boys” for that, and you’re not invited to the physical part of the job.
However, you asking him for help? He seems to love the fact that you need him.
When you are trying out the recipes, he’s magically around you. Appears in the most random moments, just to annoy you a little, whisper some encouraging words, like “you got it, love”. He’s more than eager to try out the food, always licking the spoon clean with such focus, like it was a military job, not his neighbor asking him for his opinion on BBQ food. Not only it makes you satisfied, but flustered as well.
Whatever you want to say to him about it, you forget it right away. You’re far too gone in his praises, slight suggestions, and so much more that has you wondering if this man is just nice, or he really means it. Because you truly believe that he does; no one could fake the glimmer in their eyes, lips twitching in a playful manner and this damn look of approval, when you do the right thing. When you think about it, you could easily get used to it if it would mean he’d be around more.
Hell, you never liked cooking that much. It was mostly something to do, so you won’t starve. With John? With John it feels like you want him to admire your food, so you try as thrice as you did in the past.
What is also satisfying in this whole “planning” thing, you’re the commander if it comes down to decorations—you tell him if something needs to go to the left side, if it’s in the right place, or maybe it doesn’t fit the vibe at all. It's good fun for you, a lot of bickering with John, a lot of him actually respecting what you have to say. Sheer contrast to the contact that you normally had with other men, and the dad of your son. Constant problems, give me this, give me that, nothing really came from them. And if it did, you had to ask for it.
And John? John is just the epitome of a perfect man. The kind one that you like seeing on the street because he’s helpful and considerate. Always willing to help you, no matter what the hour is, or what the problem is, like—
Like a real husband, you think, trying to push that thought away the second you see that you’re losing yourself a little too much in it. Just because someone is nice to you, it doesn’t mean that they have a romantic interest in you.
John isn’t helpful with making your thoughts go away; he’s so close to you, like he doesn’t know the meaning of personal space. At some point, you think that he has to do this on purpose. It’s not possible that he’s like this with everyone—so touchy, manhandling every time someone stands in his way, whispering little “I need you to move,” before moving the person somewhere else. It’s unnecessary, you would move if he’d only ask you to do it, but…
But you’d lie if you’d say that you do not like this. Because you do, with all of your heart, even if normally you’d be irritated by behavior like this. But, this is John Price that you talk about. He’s so delicate in this, joking around so much that you don’t even pay attention to the amount of times that he does that.
The closeness doesn’t bother you; not until you realize that a bunch of people are observing you with sharp precision; they’re talking about something too, but it’s clear for you that they are watching the two of you. It’s even more obvious when they gasp right in the moment when John kisses you in the temple, squeezing your hip, silently thanking you for the help. Like you were doing it out of simple kindness, not because you two are responsible for it anyway.
“I’m gonna go,” you murmur under your breath, almost jogging to your house, just so no one will notice the flustered look on your face.
You’re not free of John here either; after an hour, he asks you over the text if you have a minute because he has a sudden epiphany. So, like a good neighbor you are, you stay on the phone with him for another hour, when he tells you how a “kids friendly” zone is needed. Because some parents don’t have a nanny or anyone to leave their kid with; and it seems reasonable.
He makes a monologue about inflatable castles, houses, everything that excites kids.
“I already have a guy to buy it from. I just need your word,” he says. You can almost hear how he smiles on the other side from his tone. “So, what do you say?”
So, even if it seems a bit fancy for your town, you agree, thinking it would be his way of saying a proper “hello” to the neighbors. You even regret that your kid is currently at his grandma's place, as you dropped him a few days before the preparations, because he’d love this idea. More than anything.
Yet, you bet that with John being here, in your neighborhood, he’ll have multiple occasions to do fun things.
The day you have to host BBQ, Price is here for you from the early morning. Making final touches, speaking like a motivational coach because he sees how big of a mess you are; he even helps you to do your hair before you two go outside and start everything properly.
You’re the equivalent of a stress ball, when he’s literally the calmest person alive in the same moment. Water to your fire, easing your nerves in the moments that you’d consider as trivial, extinguishing the heat when you need it. Making you actually feel seen with your feelings, with how he acknowledges them and treats you the best he can in the moment. You feel less dumb for being so nervous, and automatically you feel better as well.
Hours feel like minutes by his side. You greet your neighbors, make small talks about food or their families, asking how they are; you can easily leave any negative thoughts behind you, without caring about your emotions before the BBQ. All you care about is right now, and how John is literally around you at every moment possible—because this man does not leave your side, even if you’re talking with someone that he doesn’t know personally.
“Oh, she’s responsible for all of it,” he says, grinning like a devil, when you talk with the Smiths about the preparations. It’s so easy for him to sneak an arm around you, and you can’t even find in yourself the want to push him away. “I was just Santa’s little helper, ‘s all.”
“Stop that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “He was very helpful, actually. I wouldn’t know what to do without his help.”
“Only on her command.” John shrugs, looking down at you. For some reason, you feel your stomach tightening on the size difference that you two have. “Without her, it probably would look like a brothel. Maybe worse, so she is the real brain of the operation.”
He’s like that all night. Praising you, even if he’s not directly speaking next to you; him pointing a finger in your direction, sending a wink, it all makes you feel like you suddenly have your wings again. Like you can actually do anything with him by your side. He charges your batteries, and you’re thankful for that.
What also charges your batteries is alcohol—normally you wouldn’t be a drinker because of your son, but when you know he’s in your mother’s house, it’s a different situation. Drink goes after a drink when you have lots of food, shots come down your throat way easier with your favorite neighbors. It’s easy to lose yourself in the atmosphere of freedom, when you haven’t had that in a while, too busy, too focused on your son.
Just like you thought, you have your wings again.
You don’t even feel like you’ve gone too far. Not when John accompanies you in the experience, asking if you need another beer, so casually, nudging you with his elbow. Taunting, like he wants to say that you won’t do it anyway. Maybe you wouldn’t, if you weren’t so drunk, but now, when there’s not a single coherent thought in your mind…
Things start to get fuzzy after that beer. You don’t even know when you put the alcohol away in order to dance with Price; you don’t know when his casual touches become something entirely different. It feels like he’s trying to help you, support you, as your legs start to feel more wobbly, but when his hand lands lower, fingers play with the material of your dress—a dress that right now seems like something you’d rather get rid of in the heat of the moment—you feel that something else is in the air.
The “don’t do anything stupid” side is flooded by waves of excitement, by the thought that you feel like you deserve a bit of fun after so many times you told yourself “no”. Maybe that’s why you agree to him walking you to your house, maybe that’s why you invite him over for a little “drink”, to end the success of the neighborhood BBQ that you two “hosted”.
Even if you have enough drinks for a few months, if you’re being honest with yourself.
You really had everything innocent in mind about this. You even came up with the speech about how late it is in your head, but the brakes fail you just in the moment when you stand right in front of him. It’s all happening in slow motion, like a catastrophe that was supposed to happen and everyone knew it from the beginning—but that catastrophe is you kissing him.
He doesn’t say anything, at first. The potential consequences of your actions dawn at you, making you sober up almost immediately, when you see his face. Darkening with every second, making you doubt what you did. Because if it was good, why is he like this?
“I’m so—”
“—Don’t even try.”
And that’s all what he says before kissing you. Kissing you so deep that you forget to breathe for a second, and you just stand still, letting him pick you up like a doll and go upstairs because what can you do about this?
He doesn’t let you do anything by yourself. His lips are everywhere, just like his hands, when he finds the bedroom—you’re already out of your dress and lingerie, but he is fully dressed. You almost want to complain, have a protest that it’s not right, as you waited maybe even more than him for this exact moment, but any word that wants to come out from your mouth is gone when he sinks his finger into you.
It’s slow, at first. Deliberate, making you feel like he’s trying to know you before he does anything more, before he loses himself in you—because that, oh, that happens fast. Faster than you’d thought it would take, but you do not mind that; not in the moment when his two fingers pump into you, while his thumb is taking care of your clit.
The moment his tongue replaces his thumb though, this is the moment when you see stars and all the restraints you had, completely break under the influence of his movement. He knows what he does, how to make you scream, and how to make you beg—because that’s what you want to do, when he suddenly stops.
"John—”
He chuckles, amused. His eyes are glimmering, when he meets yours. "Patience, honey. Patience."
And when you finally come with his name on your lips, you know you have it.
He gives you maybe a fifteen second break—it’s enough for him to strip out of his clothes and pounce at you again; it makes you realize that is the main course you needed from him.
It’s far from casual sex, far from the scenario that you’ve created in your mind. It’s something deeper, as he intertwines fingers with you, insisting that’s the only way you’re gonna do it; and he doesn’t want to hear anything about it. Before you can ask any question, he shushes you with a heated kiss, his hips moving, but at a much slower pace than you expected, like he’s trying to devour the moment. Enjoy it until it lasts, maybe show you something so you’ll miss him in the future.
It’s almost like he wants to prove something here and you let him do it. Because for the first time, it’s nice having someone to take the initiative. Lead you, lure you into the mindset that you need him for that piece of heaven he’s busy to give you. Fixated on that, you plant bloody crescents on his back, not caring about the outcome.
It’s just you and him, at this point. You and him, no one else really matters.
Afterwards, you pay no attention to the fact that he insists on staying. He, in fact, doesn’t say anything; he just states a fact when he puts his big arm around you, squeezing you tight and you just know he won’t leave. You think it’s only right—he’s drunk, after all. It wouldn’t be very neighborly to you to ask him to leave in that state, even if he lives right across the street. And, it wouldn’t be very neighborly to ask him that, considering that he fucked the shit out of you.
Because he'll probably leave in the morning anyway. Everyone leaves before the sunlight, it’s just the way the world is. It was nothing… serious, right?
But, he doesn’t. Oh, of course he doesn’t.
He brings you coffee in the morning, right to your bed, sandwiches on the plate. You can’t quite put it when he had the time to make it, or when he got up—because you’d normally sense someone walking around your house, you’re used to being on high alert. Yet, there is John Price, smiling from ear to ear.
“Your mother called,” John says, which causes your heart to drop immediately. “Said that she’ll drop your son later.”
“...and what did you say?”
“That I’ll tell you this, as soon as you’ll wake up,” he informs you, kissing the top of your head. Like it’s nothing, he sits next to you, pulling out his phone and typing something; as you peek, you can see the news website popping up.
Great. Now even your mother knows about him. It’s not like he is that important right now, but you know your mom a little too well, so it’s easy for you to assume that she’ll make a big thing about him and you’ll have to tell her something to blow her off. And, for now, you’re out of ideas of what exactly you should tell her.
Something other than “it was just casual sex because he’s my hot neighbor”, something other than “I actually don’t know him that well”. Words are spinning in your head; a massive hangover doesn’t help to form anything, so you just nod in acknowledgement, watching him for a moment, bewildered. He acts like he owns this bed, and doesn’t even think of leaving. It’s a potential threat, when you think about it.
You’re not even surprised when you see text from your mother on your phone.
You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.
You decide it’s best not to reply to that, so you just grab the cup of coffee that John made you.
#john price call of duty#john price x reader#john price x you#captain john price x you#captain john price#john price cod#cod x reader#captain price#captain price fanfic#john price#price cod#price x reader#single mom reader#john price smut
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sometimes i think about the future symphony "i should have married you" post you made and it makes me so sad but the other night as i was falling asleep i was struck with absolute agony by the awful idea of "i should have married you" because marrying her would have made her hamato and maybe just maybe then she would have been able to become a hamato spirit. and the brothers most likely would have been able to make contact with the hamato sprits like they do in the series. and because if he married her at least he would have been able to contact her spirit. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh anyways thought i should share hope your day is going fabulously captain desceros
oh, this is awful. allow me to make it even worse :)
we’ve seen in the series that you dont actually have to have the hamato name to be ‘a hamato’ as april demonstrates. we’ve also seen varying levels of. hm. ninj-oscity? ninpo skills? from the boys. like raph and leo doing a ninja mind meld. just. just mikey.
and we’ve always seen that donnie struggles with ninpo the most.
his ninpo is mechanical. when he uses it at its most conscious level, we see it manifest as blueprints coming together. literal pieces, as if constructed with real material. when he panics or doesn’t go through this process, it’s a vague shape that isn’t as strong or as defined in purpose.
so let’s take this scenario you’ve brought to us.
viola-chan would have, unquestionably, been a hamato. and for that reason, i can definitely see her having a hamato spirit.
…..but i dont think donnie would ever be able to communicate with it.
mikey would be the most likely, since he has the strongest ninpo. but he’d be in high demand since he’s so strong, so i think it would tire him and i dont know how much time and energy he’d have to talk to anyone. not to mention the stress he’d feel when donnie would come to him like Hey Can I Talk To My Dead Girlfriend and mikey’s like…. dude i just got home from 24 hours of straight ass kicking i’m about to pass tf out.
and raph, i imagine, died not too long after viola-chan, so whether he could or not is moot.
leo. well. i dont think leo could communicate with viola-chan either. leo is rather avoidant when he feels guilty or ashamed, and (without going into too much of spoiler territory) he’d feel largely unworthy to talk to you, i think. and since we’ve seen that it takes an open heart to use the technique, it wouldn’t work.
and donnie. god. donnie would try. he would try so, so hard. he would try, hours upon hours, every free moment, banging his fists on his thighs as he’d meditate until he’d collapse. reaching out. seeking. already not as strong at this whole ninpo nonsense. unable to calm himself from the need to see you need to see you please just let me see you one last time please please please that would make it impossible to focus. he’d start thinking about tech that could bridge the gap. that’s how his ninpo works, after all. modeling his blueprint. so if he can design a machine that can talk to you. his ninpo can bring it to life.
but he doesnt exactly have a lot of time to dedicate to a personal project like that, let alone one so fucking insane in scale, so actually impossible to do. and as the time passes he grows more and more obsessed with thinking about it. yet simultaneously more and more sure it’ll never happen. i feel like his last moments, alone, bleeding, staring up at the rust-colored sky, he’d be smiling. because of course he he has some kind of death drone army set to go the moment his ninpo cuts off, and it’s one last middle finger to krang. …but also i think he’d be a little relieved. hoping his spirit will find yours and lavi’s.
(do they? who knows. no more hamato exist in that timeline to find out.)
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Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Will Graham Headcannons
Fluff, Minor edits for formatting!
Involves: Cooking, sleeping, art, tattoos, piercings, dates, funny little ideas
•While Hannibal is mostly the one cooking when you, him, and will are in a kitchen together it get a bit chaotic.
•You're decent at cooking but Will is a hot mess compared to you and Hannibal (that doesn't mean he's a bad cook, just not as good as you guys are). But you and Hannibal have no problem guiding and teaching him. It's a great bonding experience for all of you.
•When Hannibal talks in the kitchen you and Will call him 'chef'. Hannibal loves it but will never admit to it.
•All of you share a bed but you also have separate bed in another room that is used when one of you really needs your sleep or space. None of you talk about but it has really saved your relationship...multiple times.
•Hannibal mostly uses it when he has an important event coming up and needs to get a full night's rest.
•Will mostly uses it when he feels like the world is caving in on him and needs to get away.
•You mostly use it when you're mad that them or need to work a late shift.
•Hannibal loves taking you and Will to museums and art galleries. He loves digging through the layers of the art to get to its over all meanings.
•Everyone knows Hannibal likes to play the 'sugar daddy' role but he appreciates when you or Will try and contribute with the costs.
•Will isn't a fan of pet names. He thinks it's weird and kind of degrading, but if you or Hannibal use one or two, he won't complain. Especially if it's to comfort him during an episode.
•That being said if you call him William he immediately thinks he's in trouble for something. If he's not in trouble he will pout about you using his full name.
•On the other hand Hannibal loves pet/nick names. If you call him darling or love he will internally swoon.
•Will doesn't like to be touched and you and Hannibal are not expections. He can deal with touch but he's not happy about it. If you touch him while he's having a break down he with scream, shout, and cry.
•You can get away with cuddling at night but just barely. Be careful about your hand placement.
•If Will is losing an argument he'll say 'nah huh' and Hannibal without a beat will say 'yeah huh' right back.
•You and Will have woken up after a nap to find Hannibal sketching you several times. If he finds either of you asleep he'll run to get his sketch book and maybe some tea and gets to work.
•Hannibal is 10,000% a bridezilla. If you could get married he would be a nightmare to deal with. He might call off the whole wedding if he doesn't get the flowers he wants. And the catering, dear god the catering. He got so upset he thought about just making the food himself...day of...
•If Hannibal ever gets sick he feel guilty because he feels like he should be the one taking care of you two, not that other way around.
•If you have tattoos or piercings Hannibal will just and stare that them. He wants to mesmerize every piece of you. In his spare time he finds him self drawing up concept art for more future tattoos. He doesn't show you any of them,but if you find one and end up getting it tattooed on you he might just have a heart attack.
•Very Interested in the tattoos/piercings healing process. Like he knows but he just likes to watch.
•Will likes to trace said tattoos and even considers getting a matching one with you!
•If Hannibal spots you and/or will getting overwhelmed overstimulated in public he hold your hand and whisper affirmations to you two.
Thanks for reading <3
#hannibal lecter#will graham#gn reader#hannigram#hannibal x reader#will graham x reader#Hannibal x reader x will#hannibal#nbc hannibal#slashers#boyfriends
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hi saints it’s pavlov’s dog anon back at it again (so sorry for taking so long, but if u genuinely are serious about wanting a tooth charm…….i’d be very excited to make one) BUT what do we think about odontophiliac evan? like, i can’t stop thinking about it. i want him purposefully removing his lover’s molars and storing them in tiny jars to put on display. or he stares at barty with a completely unwavering expression and says, “i’m going to touch your teeth” and he just…jabs his finger into barty’s mouth and starts stroking over his teeth, pressing the pad of his finger against sharp canines…he doesn’t know why there’s literal warmth pooling in his belly because that guy does not feel Warm Things. i want evan pinning barty down to the bed and practically unhinging his jaw just so he can admire barty’s teeth. he’s got some 1800s old school medical bag, pulling out the most obscure tools just to poke and prod the inside of barty’s mouth. like i feel as though i’m going somewhere with this, and i need your Thoughts
tooth charm anon!!! how i missed you!!! oh my god yes please 🦷🦷. we could even match!
this ask is so gorgeous. the dynamic of Barty fondly holding himself in place while his Little Blonde Freak pulls out his molars with pliers, shoves fingers in his mouth, sucks his tongue, and generally uses him as a living doll to blandly experiment on is so crucial. i see barty as having really nice teeth anyway... evan probably asks to see them up close when they're "still friends", (barty is panting at this opportunity) and he finds himself sitting there with his fingers buried in barty's mouth, trembling and wondering why he's fighting the urge to give his front teeth a lick. asks barty to bite him hard enough to leave a mark he can study afterwards.
i'm firmly of the belief that dentist!evan has a collection of antique dental headgear, rusty victorian cranks & gags to keep his mouth open (professionally!!). you'd think he'd fuck him like that, but i think evan just likes to try out all his weird tools on barty to make him drool on himself, then scold him for being messy. and barty would call it unfair, if he could speak.
#I LOVE HOW we're just addicted to giving evan different paraphilias on here. and i have all of them too.#dentist evan tag#<- I swear to god I'm missing half of the dentist evan posts. but i put the ones i could find in here. we have a tag now#a
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Hi there!! Can I req a Matthias x reader where the reader is very nice yet shy, and Matthias fell for their kindness but is afraid to confess cause he might lose them(who's the first and only person to show him genuine care)?
(But he's also bad at hiding his feelings)
Or maybe a scenario where he has a difficult time sleeping and finds himself impulsively knocking on your door— regretful of his actions but he can't back out now that you're standing in front of the open door, curious from the unexpected visit.
He's a new char so I hardly find any fics about him and I'm desperate💔 you can change the scenario!! I'm really just desperate uehdhsishd(╥﹏╥)
hi anon i LOVED these ideas! i tried to combine both of them into one, i hope it satisfies what you wanted!! ♡
falling slowly 🪡
Matthias isn’t one to act on impulse.
He’ll let his thoughts fester aimlessly inside him, hoping the darker among them someday fizzle out. He’ll watch precious chances fly past him, fearing the consequences of a risk taken too rashly. A missed opportunity is better than another tragedy. A guarded mind is better than a broken heart. But some restless nights drive him to desperation, and tonight that leads him to you.
He stands outside your bedroom door, arms stiff against his sides. He’s passed by this room countless times before, as the two of you occasionally walk each other back to your rooms. But never has he come here on his own, never without explicit permission.
He gingerly raises his hand, letting it hover above your doorframe. All of a sudden, he loses his words. What would he say? I can’t sleep, I need you to check for monsters under my bed? I need you to stay with me until I fall asleep? I need you to tuck me in? What a baby. He can already picture the look you’d send him: a smile that’s trying too hard to be polite, a shabby effort at concealing the judgment within. You wouldn’t turn him down directly, even though he knows you’d want to. Kindhearted people love to dance in circles before saying anything that might offend. He’s all too familiar with this game. Normally, your kindness is something he loves about you, but all he can do now is curse it under his breath. If only you were crueler to him, like most people are, then he wouldn’t have let his hopes inflate his head. He would’ve known never to even consider stopping by your room. He would’ve known to avoid this situation altogether.
His fingers close into a fist, and it’s then he realizes he’s quivering slightly. Louis wouldn’t have a problem in this scenario. That thought piques Matthias most. His “factory defect” has locked him in place yet again, and all he can do is swallow down the reminder of his incompetence. It’s just a door, for God’s sake.
He flexes his fingers one last time, glancing around as if worried someone might catch him. Then he strikes his fist. It’s a clumsy motion, rattling your door on its hinges, and his heart leaps to his throat. A courteous knock would have three raps or so, not the jarring thud! he made — nobody in their right mind would imagine that’s a welcome visitor, right? Especially not at this snake’s pit of a manor. He prays desperately for you to ignore that ever happened. In your position, he’d pretend to be asleep, maybe double-check that the door is properly locked. Surely you’d do the same.
Surely...?
“It’s open!” greets your voice from inside, entirely unconcerned.
Matthias holds his breath. Why are you leaving your door unlocked at this hour? But he tucks that thought away while he stares down at the doorknob. This is it — he’s trapped. If he turns around now, you’ll be left with unresolved fears of someone lurking around your room at night. Nothing could entice him to do that to you. And if you ever found out it was him? It’d be too late for apologies, and definitely not forgiveness. Right, so he has to answer.
Slowly, he cracks it open a fraction, afraid of peering anywhere but the ground.
“You can come in,” you urge. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. Footsteps shuffle around inside, then the door fully swings open. “Oh, hi Matthias! What’s up?”
He only meets your face briefly, at your bright and curious eyes, before his gaze flicks back downward.
“Uh… sorry to bother you, I just…” He awkwardly grasps at his elbows, struggling to string together his intentions. “…I need you.”
. . . . .
There it is. His secret is out. He didn’t mean to let it slip, but that single phrase had been bouncing endlessly around his mind, as if they were the only words he knew. It’s the one thing he can confidently admit: he needs you. He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. In fact, he’s certain you don’t. Nobody in their right mind would. That’s why he never ventured to say these words before. So when you respond to him with patient silence, as if waiting for him to continue, the entirety of his body freezes over. Maybe only a few seconds pass in reality, but that’s more than enough time for Matthias to fill the gaps. It’s a no — he knows it’s a no.
Your head tips slightly. “Sure, what do you need?”
The whirlwind in his mind slows to a halt. He remembers how he used to cough up excuses on the spot when trying to avoid you—sometimes you’d invite him for a meal or game of cards together, and he had convinced himself those were pity invites so he tended to reject them upfront. It stings less to avoid someone altogether than to endure feeling ‘tolerated’ instead of ‘wanted.’ But now he’s wracking his brain for an excuse to stay.
“I—I just wanted to see you.” It’s not a lie, but for some reason it feels like one.
“Me?” A look of surprise flashes on your face, warmth blooming across your chest. That might be the most forward thing you’ve ever heard from him. Stepping closer, you reach for his forearm, peering up into his face to better examine his strained features. Your free hand reaches up to brush aside the limp strands of hair shrouding his face. “Did something happen? It’s almost midnight—I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just so unexpected…”
The strength falls from Matthias’ shoulders. Out of relief, maybe. Or maybe it’s to brace himself for one last leap of faith.
“Can I stay with you…?” His voice is barely audible. You search his lone eye, staring back at you in its perfect hollowness. At some point, that blank stare has become a comforting sight for you. Your hand trails from his arm to spread across his shoulder. He remains motionless.
“Okay,” you say, softly. “Always.”
As you move to wrap both arms around his neck, you notice his body tense, and his brows furrow, subtly, in a clear attempt not to let you notice. The strain on his face catches you off-guard.
“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” Immediately, you pull back to search his expression.
“N-No, nothing—keep going.”
This time, it’s Matthias who draws you close. His arms weave their way around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. His face burrows into your shoulder, and it’s then you understand the weight of his visit, of his need for you. All you can do is lift a tender hand to ruffle his hair, feeling his pounding heart ease in your arms.
#matthias' self sabotage saga continues#i adore this guy#identity v#idv x reader#matthias czernin#matthias czernin x reader#idv imagines#identity v x reader#idv puppeteer#puppeteer x reader
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that first anon again: oh my god losing my religion by r.e.m. for boothill. this man is SO full of teenage angst, sitting in the corner of one of those old timey country bars all veiled in shadow looking at the person he has feelings for laughing and dancing in the crowd, completely mesmerised as he rests his chin on a hand with a focused expression, mouth slightly open, and absent-mindedly traces the rim of his glass with a finger from the other, almost without realising. You ain't slick, dude. Go talk to them.
God, I am so fucking normal about him.
OH YA i forgot to reply to a question from ur prev ask, sure! u can give me indie songs as well heheeee, and ngl i wasnt expecting this song but its one of my fav songs to vibe to!!!!
OKOK I GOT THE IDEA AND I FIND IT CUTE buttt i kinda put a twist to it if thats okay!
so lets say you're a regular at this diner in town, you had your fair amount of visits here with your friends, your family, even alone. boothill has seen it all, but god at each time he tries to strike up a conversation with you, it either comes off awkward or him just flying off his seat from trying to 'smoothly' whoosh onto the stool.
he doesn't know what made him this... intrigued by your presence, why is it that everytime the door bell chimes, he glances by the door to see if it was you, the way your voice echo in the quiet diner, the way you spun around after you got your order and straight out the door you walked. he wants to know why and how has he suddenly had the balls to walk up to you, and just start some small talk.
unfortunately on his side, it got to the point where it only ends in 'hi's or 'i see's. he thought he could do it, he thought he could whoosh his way in n perhaps whoosh his way out out this diner with u tagging along. but look at where he is now, it's not that you don't get along, but with the way he looks into your eyes and stutter whatever he wants to say, fumbling over words and fall into silence while you wait, while you search his eyes, his body languages.
but overtime, he gradually became standoffish, he no longer sits beside you at most of your visits, he doesn't look high up above the diner booth to check if its you (he observes from the window instead 🙄), he just waves, he just stands up to go at your presence, he just-
he no longer visits the diner.
in fear and perhaps shame, he and his cyborg body, you would prefer someone much more... human, right? what does it take for a cyborg like him to woo someone he fancies?
it's impossible, he thought. at this point, he'll just give up and not think about the thing people call, the thing he once dreamt of having, love. he'll just give up the act and focus on some... commission he has or whatever...
but does he really though?
"dude, since day 1, are you still gonna mess this right up?"
the voice behind him pulls him out of his trance, the spunk haired man stays put in his seat, the fold of his index rubbing his bottom lips while a thumb rests on his his sharp jawline. choosing to ignore the blond waiter by his side. the waiter throws his tablecloth aside.
"hello?" he snaps his fingers at him, earning a 'tsk' from the man.
"whaddaya want? can't ya see i'm busy?"
"busy doing what? staring at them from this corner of the bar? i know that look of yours, i saw what happened last time-"
"and what? what makes you think i stand a chance with them, best believe 'm gonna look after them from far away. they don't needa see me here, they don't gotta see me at all."
the waiter groans, as if the man in front of him is being blind or feigning ignorance to escape falling in love, to just... dwell in his insecurities. "bro, look at the way they look at you!"
boothill stays put, eyes blinking at your swaying form, your head shaking side to side at the music. the way you jump, throw your hands up, his mouth falls slightly ajar at the way you move. his throat runs a little dry at the way beauty could exist in many forms and at anytime, and this was one of the many times he had found beauty in you. he had found himself longing for you.
it's agonizing honestly.
both on your end and on his.
you're here swaying to the music from the speakers, mingling with other youngsters in your town, hoping that when you turn around to start talking, it'd be the one you've been looking for this whole time, the one whose clumsy way of flirting leaves you wanting more and more. the night was young and there's ample time for him to visit the diner, but... would he?
for him, he wishes he was the only one under your spotlight, the one making you laugh, oh how he loves the way your lips curl into a smile, the way your eyes twinkle.
if he was out there in the crowd with you, best believe he'll twirl and dip you down on the dancefloor and make you have the best night and dance of your whole life.
he turns his head sideways, looking at the blond. "what's with the way they look at me?"
then he turns back to observe you. maybe, just maybe, you would turn around at a certain degree and meet his yearning gaze. wondering if he can make you feel his presences by drilling holes into your skull.
"..." at this point he's defeated, he can't be bothered to explain all these lovey-dovey pre-dating crush nonsense to this sulking cowboy.
"y'kno mister, they've been looking for you every time when you're not around the diner. do i gotta explain more? do i gotta explain the 'where's boothill? have you seen him? has he visited today?'" he mocks, "ya wanna know what happened when i told them no every single time? they just left the diner- not ordering anything!"
the spunk haired man hums, now no longer focused on you, but instead, his back facing faced to the crowd as he stares into the prepared drink before him, finger circling the rim of the glass as the complaints of the waiter goes unheard.
if what the man was saying is true, then... but... why? what made him special enough for your to promptly ask for him at every visit. and he bet it was every visit, since he's not even in the diner every day for months. so, why did he have to leave?
was it the fear of judgement?
was it fear of rejection?
or fear of losing you?
so-
"so?" the waiter quirks an eyebrow, "what do you plan to do with that information-"
he can't back down now, the aftertaste of soulglad lingers the back of his mouth, he's walking, walking towards the crowd, thank god your back was facing him... otherwise he wouldn't be doing what he was doing now, otherwise he'd instantly run away again. and he does not plan to let you search for him again.
"hey." he whispers, smiling gently at the way you suck in your breath at the sight of him.
he never thought he'd feel his heart melt much more than before the moment your soft lips mellow into a smile, the twinkle of your eyes refreshing his past, yet brief memories with you.
"hi."
#💫 anon!!#boothill x reader#boothill hsr#boothill#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill honkai star rail#I LOVE THIS SCENARIO#💌 — letters!!#hsr#honkai star rail
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dude my billy brainrot is so bad rn!
anyways, ok so the band and muse go to a party, and this time billy is in a good mood and is obsessed with her. hes being really clingy and is just so in love with her. but then eddie starts flirting with her and says "you could do so much better than him". billy finds out and him and eddie almost get in a fist fight. but after eddie and billy almost fight billy goes to his muse and is all like "im sorry baby, i couldnt handle what he was saying, i really hope you know that i love you" and they fuck. but then the next day he is avoiding her a bunch and getting touchy with the other groupies and she is like "should i have listened to eddie?" i feel like this would happen earlier in their relationship before muse knows the cycle her and billy always go through
-🦋
billy dunne is literally my life
you're basically wrapped around billy the entire night, you both do a line off of each other, share drinks, it's like he's in a haze of just being entranced by you. he cannot stop kissing you, his arms wrapped securely around you, you're basically on his lap all night.
"I'm gonna write you a whole album, baby." and the feeling of his voice so near your neck makes you giggle which just makes him smile, "what?"
you shake your head smiling, "nothing." he keeps looking at you expectantly which makes you laugh again, "nothing! billy, I just-"
"you don't believe me? oh, that's what this is, you don't think I'm telling the truth!" somehow he's holding you tighter, his smile, the way he jokes makes your head fuzzy, well so does the drinks, but he does a number on you. the way he laughs, smiles, it's addictive.
"no, no, no, I do, I swear, scout's honor!"
"I think that only applies to actual boy scouts, baby."
"shut up" you kiss him and his lips make you dizzy, just as yours make him. when you finally pull apart he's just holding your face for a while.
"god, you're stunning, do I tell you that a lot? because you're so pretty. can I do another line off of you?"
you just rasp out a, "yes" and you've forgotten how public you are really at a party when you let him adjust you enough to do a line of your cleavage.
"let me go get us another drink, baby, I'll be right back."
"okay." you're smiling, adjusting your shirt as he squeezes your hand before he's off. no sooner is he gone then eddie is appearing
"he's only being that way for now, you know" he's drunk, you know he is to be so openly digging at billy like that.
"eddie-"
"two weeks ago he was doing lines off of some other chick's rack-"
"he didn't mean that eddie."
"he didn't mean what he did?"
"he fucked up, it was a mistake, eddie, it doesn't change anything."
"you don't deserve that." eddie is leaning closer over the couch rest, "you deserve better than him, the first guy you saw at the concert."
you stare back at him for a while, "eddie, if you think you could treat me so much better, you'd let me enjoy my night. which I was."
"one night is all he'll give you before he decides you're not that special anymore-"
"what the hell are you talking about, man?" billy is making his reappearance and you know eddie must be even more drunk when you thought when he doesn't even really try to cover.
"use your imagination." and eddie's words have barely escaped his mouth when billy's punched him in the face. eddie stumbles back for a second, but punches billy back and you've leapt up to get between them. and eddie's looking at you, shaking his head like he's done, and walking out. "whatever, man"
"eddie!" you're shouting, but he's gone, and you have other things to worry about. "billy, oh my god are you okay?"
"I'm fine, god, we need to find a new fucking bassist"
"don't do that, gimme your hand." you're looking at his knuckles and he's entranced by the way your brows furrow. "you can't just punch someone everytime they bruise your ego." his hand is suddenly moving to tilt your chin up, where he's smiling in disbelief.
"baby, that's not why I punched him." you're unamused by this. "I'm serious! baby, I did it because he was talking about you. acting like I didn't care about my girl. the girl I love."
"you love me?"
he looks dumbfounded by the question, "I just write all my songs about you, you basically live with me, I need you like air, so yeah, I do."
"that's good because I am so in love with you."
"this would be pretty awkward if you didn't." and next thing you know he's got you back at the house, laying on his bed as he proves it to you, it's really not fucking, it's raw, it's love making, and he makes you feel so appreciated.
that's until you wake up, and he pulls himself away just when you try to put an arm on him when you've woken up. he gets up, showers without a word, gets dressed, only says morning back when you say it, and walks out of the room. suddenly you feel like a one night stand, someone he never wants to see again, and there's a pit in your stomach. he knows it's because saying love has scared him, but he can't communicate that, he's just got to be destructive.
breakfast is him laying out instructions for everyone, moving away every time you try to get close, at some point you try to take a drag off his cigarette and he looks unbelievably annoyed which just shuts you down. and the ride to the studio is unbearably quiet, it makes you want to cry the way he doesn't acknowledge you.
it's gets worse at the studio when he doesn't acknowledge you at all and during a break is talking to the groupies, laughing, doing lines, having a drink, hands on them, and you do a line to deal with it before sitting back in the emoti studio so you don't have to deal with it. it's so fucking confusing. you're laying on the studio carpet when eddie walks in, looks at you, and lays down too.
you feel the energy of 'i told you so' radiating off of him, "eddie-"
"are you okay?"
there's a beat, "he told me loved me last night." another beat, "is this what it feels like to be loved?"
and he's rolling onto his side to look at you, "no."
you wish you didn't start crying, "then what did I do wrong since then? why is he doing this to me, I don't know why I'm not good enough."
"you are, he's too fucking stupid to notice what he's got right if front of him." and he's lighting a cigarette, handing it to you, "let's go to the record store, find something to listen to later. we can use my record player, you know it sounds better on mine."
and you do exactly that and wonder if maybe this is what it feels like to be loved, but it doesn't take away the desire your soul has for billy dunne. even if it makes you think that eddie could love you better.
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going to a rave with the 141 boys
A/N: can u tell im excited for my upcoming rave bender? the next few weekends are gonna be intense and i’m here for it
cw: alcohol, casual drug use
ghost
- let’s be real, he would never actually agree to go to a rave with you. the closest you’ll ever get to taking him out to something similar is a bar, and it’s going to be the usual dingy one near base. he rarely even goes to that one unless it’s for celebrations or he wants to brood solo with some liquid luck by his side
- in the highly unlikely instance you do manage to bring him, he surprisingly fits in - visually at least
- his balaclava and simple compression shirt that he’s worn seems to be the vibe of everyone else, just very toned down. maybe he’s a casual raver, not too keen on dressing up like everyone else is what passer-by’s think
- not that anyone’s really paying attention, they’re all either tripping balls, high off their faces on MD or too busy feeling the music to care
- ghost is definitely feeling out of his element
- so many shirtless, sweaty men doing ‘ridiculous’ dances and women in skimpy outfits that flash all sorts of bright colours
- you’ve definitely dressed up for the occasion.
- ghost is absolutely floored when he sees what you’re wearing for the first time
- “what the fuck are you wearing”
- definitely acts more like a body guard than a rave buddy. everyone is so intoxicated. he’s on high alert the whole time, keeping a keen eye on you while you lose yourself to the sensations of the music rumbling deep in your bones and the feeling of bodies brushing up against you by the stage where the dj continues to do their thing
- you’re probably not even close to the stage, you’re further back where there’s less people and simon actually has the space to be able to breathe
- it doesn’t matter though, you’re still having a blast and dancing away to your hearts content
- ghost definitely can’t help watching the way you move your body, trying his best not to seem creepy, but you seem so in your element - it’s almost like watching you in the shooting range. you’re so lost in focus
- it’s hot as hell
- even if he thinks the way you’re dancing looks absolutely ridiculous, you’re confident and he finds it deeply attractive
- “don’t ever bring me to one of those again”
soap
- probably the most on board out of everyone to join
- you guys absolutely sat in your room together while you did your makeup and dolled yourself up
- “oi lad/lass, can ye put some o’ that on me?”
- soap gives you the biggest shit eating grin when you pull out a small baggie of pills to get the both of you through the night. you better pray there’s no upcoming standard military drug tests
- you are definitely going to be the one babysitting the entire time
- you almost lose him several times and the only reason you were able to find him again was because you heard loud scottish yelling
- arriving for the first time, soap can’t help but let out a low whistle. “fuckin’ ‘ell”
- tries to mimic the way you and the people around him are dancing but can’t for the life of him figure out how tf you’re all moving your bodies so quickly and fluently to the rapid beat of the music
- almost falls on his face trying the first time
- you’ve got him dressed up in the sluttiest, most ridiculous outfit that you think you’ll ever see him in. it’s definitely caught the attention of a few people around you
- god he’s so cocky when he realises he’s popular amongst the crowd with all the men and the ladies
- it may be boosting his ego but don’t worry. he’s only got his sights set on you
- speaking of sights set, soap can’t stop staring at you. you’re wearing the most revealing outfit ever seen and he swears then and there that he’s going to marry you
- he knew that he wanted to make you his, but tonight definitely sets that in stone
- the following weeks, you’re getting amused grins and eye rolls from your teammates (ghost is absolutely the one rolling his eyes)
- soap had secretly snagged a video of you dancing to your hearts content and made a point to make sure everyone bears witness to it
- when you find out, soap is sulking in the rec room with a bag of frozen peas pressed against his head, sulking like a kicked puppy
- oh well, at least he managed to hide one video of you after forcing him to delete them all
gaz
- it’s not his scene, but god he’s curious
- agrees to tag along with you, and boy is he glad he did
- his eyes are all over you the entire night. he just can’t help it when you’ve prettied yourself up so good
- “you look stunning, love”
- he’s content to just watch you truly be yourself, mingling and swapping bracelets with strangers and drunkenly stumbling around the place with a joyous laugh leaving your lips
- definitely would need occasional moments away from the crowds to allow him the space to gather his thoughts
- soap is probably there with the both of you tbh. it was originally a trio outing, but soap has run off to do his own thing
- don’t worry, gaz is here to watch over you and make sure you’re safe
- he takes it upon himself be be the sober one
- besides, he wants to remember the way you sway your hips to the beat and drag your fingers through your hair
- can’t help the slight pang of jealousy when he sees you dancing with another man, his eyes raking over your body and his hands reaching out to touch you
- “move along buddy”
- gaz is quick to pull you next to him, a steely glare directed at the man as he pulls you in to his side, your wide, surprised eyes looking up at gaz
- gaz isn’t usually one to be overprotective or jealous, but god is it hot when you bear witness to it for the first time
- absolutely chews soap out on the way home for stranding them amongst the hundreds of people at the rave
- you’re sleeping soundly - a small, drunken yet content smile on your face as your head rests on gaz’s shoulder in the cab home
- gaz can’t help but smile at you softly, hand reaching up to brush your hair out of your eyes as you rest
- he definitely stood out like a sore thumb at the rave, but it definitely won’t be the last one he’s attending. how could it be? you were such a delight to watch
- tonight will definitely be replaying in his mind for the following weeks to come
price
- you would lose your job so quickly if you ever brought price along to a rave
- occupation aside, unless you have the luck to win the lottery - price is probably also not joining you
- the poor bastard is not big on crowds, especially amongst so many young adults that are so intoxicated on more than just alcohol
- he’s not the oldest there, far from it, but his time serving in the military has made him feel detached from popular trends and the normalcy of civilian lifestyles
- you probably end up leaving early. the loud music gives him a headache, and god - do people actually listen to this?
- “don’t you dare take that shot”
- you definitely downed it after giving him an evil smirk
- the entire night is spent on the sidelines of the dance floor. there is no way that price is dealing with that many people pushing up against him while also dealing with the pounding in his head
- bitching and moaning aside, price is glad to see you letting lose and enjoying yourself instead of burying yourself in work and training
- you’re a hard worker, he knows you deserve this chance to cast aside the burdens of your occupation
- he’d never admit it, but he was glad to get off base (even if it was at an event he would never willingly go to on his own accord)
- he’s standing a few metres to the side, hands in his pockets and chuckling, shaking his head in amusement as you dance away in your own little world while he sips on a beer
- he’s discrete about it, but his eyes slowly travel over your body when your eyes are closed and you’re too lost to the beat of the rhythm - body coated in light layer of sweat, skin gleaming an assortment of colours as the lights bounce off your body
- he feels bad when he says he need to get the hell out of there, but his heart melts a little when you’re nothing but understanding
- he would never admit it, but it wasn’t the worst night of his life
- he got to see a new side of you that he never expected to see
- walks past the training room a few weeks later where you’re busy training. it’s late and everyone has retired for the night, but you’re gunning it on the treadmill, the same music the two of you listened to that night out playing from your bluetooth speaker
- he can’t help but think back to the way you moved your body so seamlessly to the harsh beat of each melody
- it’s ingrained permanently in his memories. it’s altered his brain completely
- he treasures it like an overprotective dragon does with its hoard of glittering gems and gold. what he saw that night was for him to see and him alone. the 141 boys have no idea what they’re missing out on
#cod headcanons#task force 141#141 headcanons#call of duty headcanons#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#141#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#captain price#john price#captain john price#john price headcanons#price x reader#price headcanons#captain price headcanons#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap cod#johnny mactavish#john mactavish x reader#soap headcanons#kyle gaz garrick#gaz cod#kyle gaz x reader#kyle garrick#gaz x reader#gaz garrick#gaz headcanons
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hi there!! i feel like work song is definitely a sanji song and i can imagine the yearning between him and the reader
Hi! Sorry for such a late response, I lost motivation again 😭 Work Song definitely feels like a Sanji song! I was so excited to write this prompt. Work Song is my favorite Hozier song ever! I hope you like this! A heads up for the live-action One Piece fans, this is based on the anime plotline. It is based around Skypiea (I just finished that arc actually!). You can find my Flower Asks here, Hozier Asks here, and my Taylor Swift Asks here (I have added TTPD to it now!). You can find my masterlist here and my rules here. And you can request here!
Work Song: You're the only thing that keeps him going.
Characters: Sanji, GN!Reader
Pairings: Sanji x GN!Reader
TW: None that I can think of!
Work Song
.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.
If there was one thing that everyone knew about Sanji, it was his love for cooking. Cooking was his safe place. You would always find him holed up in the kitchen, slaving away at whatever dish he was trying to make next that would blow the socks off anyone who tried it. It was the thing that he was good at. It was his passion. He cared about it more than anything in the whole world. But that wasn’t the only thing he cared about. There was something he cared about just as much or even more than cooking. That something was you.
Once Sanji met you, he had no idea how he went through life without you. It was like you suddenly became everything his world was. You were the air he breathed, the light to his cigarette, the heat to his stove, the ingredients to his cooking. You came into his life and became everything he could ever need. He found himself needing nothing else if he had you. You were everything to him. You were his reason for getting through the day.
He found himself thinking about you constantly. Your bright smile, your soft skin, your personality, your little jokes, your laugh. You overtook every single thought in his mind. There was not a single thing about you he didn’t love. You could tell him everything you hated about yourself and he would tell you every reason why he loved that part of you and more. You took him as he was. Sanji had no doubt made many mistakes in his past and, despite that, you still chose to love him like he did none of that. It was like you were from a dream. This man loved you like it was his passion. A passion that overtook even his passion for cooking. You were his main priority.
That’s why when he found out you were on Eneru’s ship with the god himself, all he could think about was getting you off that ship and as far away from the enemy as possible. He ignored his wounds from Eneru’s lightning, forced Usopp to get up and help him, and made sure that he used whatever resource he had necessary to save you. You were the only thing that he thought about. The only thought on his mind. The only safety he cared about was yours.
When he stayed behind to face off against Eneru by himself, he saw the look on your face as you fell off the ship with Usopp and the waver. He knew that you didn’t want to leave him there. He could hear your shouts at Usopp to let go of the waver and to go back up to the ship. But that was the last thing Sanji wanted you to do. He knew Usopp would do what Sanji wanted and keep you away from the fight.
And so, when he stared Eneru in the face again, he said one thing to him, “I don’t believe in God, you know. I doubt that I’d be going to any kind of heaven. But I don’t care because I have my own heaven, my own divine being. And that’s all I need.” Eneru had no idea what he was talking about. The god struck the man down with his lightning and as Sanji laid on the ground, burning and aching with the feeling of the lightning wreaking havoc through his body, there was one thought that was in his mind.
He knew he was going to make it out of this alive. Nothing could keep him away from you. If they buried him in the deepest grave man could possibly make, he would still find a way to claw his way out and drag himself back to your feet. That’s where he was supposed to be, where he needed to be. You were exactly where he was supposed to be.
#one piece#opla x reader#one piece live action#one piece netflix#one piece x reader#opla#opla sanji x reader#one piece headcanons#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#opla sanji#sanji#sanji vinsmoke x reader#hozier
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Gratia. (An As Above, So Below Story)
Gratia. Charitas. Solamen.
Grace. Charity. Peace.
The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.
Summary: You and Eddie-- separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?
Word Count: 2.1k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)
Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References
Note: So...originally this was going to be one long thing. A tale about the Knight and Eddie and their unbreakable bond. And I wavered about how relevant it would be to the larger story. How relevant are any of these blurbs to the larger story?
But if there's anything I've learned writing AASB, it's that I'm really writing the whole thing for myself. And after finding myself in an odd state of grief that kind of just keeps getting worse over the weekend, I know that this little fic...and the two that follow...really are only going to just be for me to help me get through it, so I need to be true to myself and write them anyway.
**So if you do read this, please know it can be read in tandem with As Above, So Below. And you should have at least read the Prequels, with maybe some bonus points for Genesis. Iif you've read the Hymns, this is set before Nachzehrer.**
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
“God is a comedian playing to an audience that is too afraid to laugh.”
― Voltaire
November 10, 1986
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you."
"She's not suffering anymore. Tranquilla."
"Thank you, I know. She's been sick for a long time. She's at rest now."
"Mom brought mostaccioli. And chicken cutlets. She's setting it up in the other room then she'll be over. You should get some, you need to eat."
"I'll be alright, thank you for coming."
Today was the final day that you would spend with your Nonna.
Well, a more accurate description was that they let you have it.
Let you.
Let you have one day to sit on that stiff funeral home sofa. To stare at her, unrecognizably still in her casket, as friends and neighbors swarmed to offer their condolences. To mourn with you.
But somehow also separately from you.
And tomorrow, after she was behind a cold slab of marble, you'd be off again. Creeping closer to your own death until one day you might be placed in a plot adjacent to her.
Together.
But not really.
If there was anything left of you.
It wouldn't do to think of that today though.
Today, you would sit here. Enjoy your break and bask in the remnants of her soul that still lingered in and around her body.
It brought you some comfort to feel it move the way she did.
It danced like she danced around the kitchen, the boundaries of it crinkling like the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. A phantasmic remnant of her lovingly worried gaze was on you every now and again, creating the urge to say "I'm ok Nonnie." To lie to her, like you always did. And whenever one of her friends knelt their own aging bodies to pray at her side, you could practically see the softness of her cushion their jagged edges, comforting them.
You didn’t dare go up yourself though.
Not yet.
Not unless you wanted the Funeral Director to haul you out of the casket because somewhere deep down you just wanted to crawl into it with her and scream,
“Take me with you. Don’t leave me like I left you.”
Because you were not ok.
You closed your eyes as a phantom hand touched your shoulder, as it attempted to soothe the pain deep inside you but only managed to stir up another kind of pain. Another kind of mourning.
If only he was really there, you could ask him to take you with him too. Take you away from here to wherever he and Nonna would wait for you.
An impossible request.
The weight of the sofa shifted beside you and you opened your eyes. You expected to find Fortunata or Antoinette—two of Nonna’s closest friends who could claim a spot beside you if they truly wanted—but instead you found Gabriel’s stiff inhuman posture and expressionless face staring ahead of him at the casket.
“You could have helped her,” you said instead of a greeting. What good would a greeting do? “Healed her.”
You briefly wondered if you'd imagined the corner of his mouth quirking before he spoke.
“And if I told you I had? If I spared her a worse fate? Lessened her pain? Lessened yours?”
“I wouldn’t believe you.”
“Then I won’t tell you.”
You turned back to watch the casket with an unsatisfied hum.
Time passed and you sat silently together as you fought to keep your emotions in check with Gabriel's presence. You weren't nervous, per se; more annoyed. Angry, even. Questioning why he was here on this day out of all days.
All your life, you explained away his presence as a guardian. Unseen and unknown to everyone but you. He used to protect you or so you could recall, but as you got older that seemed to stop.
And he was more of a harbinger of doom than a deterrent of it.
Well, not doom.
Fate.
Or God's will or some shit like that. You didn't know anymore. Didn't care. You only cared about getting to the finish line. Freeing your soul of this curse. Getting your prize.
Heaven. Home. Peace with the ones you loved.
With Nonna.
With Eddie.
So if Gabriel was here, it meant something was about to happen. Something unsavory. Something...
You blinked and he disappeared from your peripheral vision suddenly, and just beyond the space he had previously occupied, stood a man in a black cassock.
Jinette approached you but you didn't give him the satisfaction of your attention until he said your name and offered his condolences.
"May I sit?" he gestured beside you.
"Seat's taken," you responded coldly.
"Ah, your mother, yes," he nodded in realization, and you watched him pull a chair up from one of the rows behind you.
You wouldn't be the one to tell him that your mother hadn't shown her face since you arrived back in Chicago late last night. She had done her duty, arranged the funeral and called you home. Beyond that her obligation was almost over; she could be free.
There had been a brief moment between the two of you when you let yourself into Nonna's flat and found her at the table surrounded by paperwork and old pictures, and you thought for the briefest second that this might be a turning point. That she might exhume whatever love she used to have for you, buried so deep in her heart, so you wouldn't have to mourn alone.
Instead she said she was sorry, then kissed your cheek and left.
And really you only had yourself to blame at the disappointment that punctuated the interaction. How could you have expected anything more than that when the bar was already set so low?
"California is a long way to come just for funeral rites," you said once Jinette was settled.
"I'm afraid that's not what I'm here for."
"Then to attend a funeral of a very devout woman," you amended.
"I'm not here for that either." You would give it to him, the remorse plastered on his features almost looked sincere. "Unfortunately, there is a very dire situation and the Order is in need of your experti--"
"No," you cut him off swiftly. "Tomorrow. You can ask me to go tomorrow. Not today."
The usual coldness of his gaze returned and he addressed you stiffly.
"You cannot refuse. Must not. This is your duty."
You turned to him, hand shooting from your lap of its own volition to grab his robe and pull him close enough that your noses practically touched.
The funeral goers around you began to murmur--your Nonna's friends whispering in fear and shame, saying a prayer to spare them of whatever wrath would befall you for defying and possibly harming his eminence--but you ignored them.
You knew you might pay for it later, but for now your rage was warranted.
"Don't lecture me about duty," you hissed at Jinette. "My entire life has been about duty. Her life too. If you want me to go? You'll beg me. Not guilt me. But I promise that the answer will still be no."
Something wicked flickered inside of you, and you wondered if you could smite Jinette. Just a little bit. If you could channel the deep-rooted grudge against your plight and let him feel the consequences that waited to befall someone who had nurtured it.
Then you felt a slight disturbance in the room.
The calm of Nonna's soul was shaken from its bliss, and you could practically hear the sharp, punishing clicks of her tongue as you fisted Jinette's robe tighter and tighter. The flame of the candles beside her casket flickered, the leaves on the flower arrangements that filled the room began to wilt, and the whispers around you got louder until they roared in your ears.
Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the feeling of Nonna's disappointment surrounded you--filled you--and you fought it for as long as you could.
But if anyone here was going to reprimand you in this room, in this world, it would be her.
You let Jinette go and fell back into the couch with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. He heaved several heavy breaths and patted his chest pathetically.
"Tomorrow," you told him as Nonna's soul and the murmurs of the people around you settled back down into a serene silence.
The tears finally fell after he left, and you closed your eyes as Eddie's ghostly touch softly wiped them away.
"Tomorrow..."
November 6, 1983
Twang.
He enjoyed it.
Twang.
Enjoyed plucking the guitar strings and letting the reverberation travel along his fingertips and into the very core of him.
Twang.
Deep down in that dark pit where you seemed to hide, every note was like a starburst of brightness and good feelings. Things so foreign and forgotten to him now, yet still so integral to Eddie Munson.
He wasn't Eddie anymore though.
So he resented the fact that he enjoyed it so much.
"Play something," you would whisper in those hidden depths, like a devil on his shoulder, and he constantly fought the temptation to follow that urge. "Play me a song, I know you know how."
He never gave in though.
Could never give in.
It was bad enough that he hid you from Henry, that he even listened to you at all. But feeling something--doing something--was better than feeling nothing in the boring, timeless eternal void of the Upside Down. So he would allow himself these brief visits to the trailer, he would tolerate your soft words and the ever-present softness of the ghost that seemed to haunt him here, so he could pluck a few twangs of the guitar strings and bask in the sparks of euphoria they would bring.
And it was enough. It had to be enough.
Then, when he got bored or hungry or irritated by you, away he would go again.
"I would argue that me being annoying is the reason you still keep me around."
He hissed at you and pulled his hands away from the guitar spitefully.
Twang.
He watched as one of the strings seemed to pluck itself and debated whether he could reach out and take a swipe at you, but there was a sudden pain beneath his sternum. Odd, seeing as he barely felt pain in this body now. He clicked his claws together contemplatively, then hesitantly rubbed at it to soothe the ache, and as he did, he felt the echoes of your soft sigh somewhere deep inside him.
He faltered for a moment, unsure if he should feel some sort of satisfaction that he had comforted you, or resentment that he had fallen for it.
He hated you. Hated your presence there. Hated that you were somehow here when you left him to this fate. Hated that you made him weak again when Henry had remade him to be strong. Infallible.
You might very well be his downfall one day.
And still he couldn't fathom being without you again.
He growled deeply and, unexpectedly, the trailer shook around him, walls clattering, remnants of knick knacks falling.
For a moment, he watched it in awe. Believed that he was the cause of it. That the power Henry had helped him unlock had been activated with his spite.
Until everything started to shake.
The Upside Down became unsettled, the very ground beneath him shifting with some seismic agitation. Roiling and churning, changing.
There was a cacophony of restlessness through the collective consciousness as all of the creatures of the Upside Down felt the disturbance. As Henry felt the disturbance and questioned its origin, because it had not been of his design.
Almost immediately, he was singled out amongst the masses, ordered to his Master's side.
Who else could find the cause of this turmoil than Henry's right hand? His loyal servant? The Beast he created to strike on his behalf, to herald in the end?
Eddie didn't hesitate.
He left the trailer and took flight swiftly and dutifully, beating his wings powerfully to get to Henry as quickly as he could.
To get away from you as quickly as he could.
You and your comfortable constant presence in the respite of the trailer.
“Do not be afraid. Our fate cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno
#aasb#as above so below#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#Eddie Munson x oc#Eddie Munson fic#stranger things fic
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"Everything you went through was meaningless."
[St Voyager S3 E7: 'Sacred Ground']
#Serving Jesus realness#star trek screenshots#Janeway#iconic that all the aliens are like 'damn....that's crazy....anyway-' about Janeway HEHEHE they're like snickering behind their hands#I would be too honestly if some outsider tried to speedrun my ancient spiritual rituals#Love the vibe of 'this could all be hazing' they're putting out. Also I keep seeing the face paint on the guide woman as like a mic#honestly this woman's fucking hilarious HEHEHE#Janeway: I'm dying. / Alien Guide: We all die someday :) <- lady who just told her to stick in her hand in a poison jar#AHAHAHA THEY REALLY DID HAZE HER...I love these guys they're so nahnahnahbooboo-core#also the refrain 'Everything you went through was meaningless' ..... thinking BIG thoughts about post-voyager voy crew back on earth#I really do earnestly love the gleeful contempt vibe...it just seems so right. In a funny way but also in a way that's deeply true#the feeling of trying to find answers while you universe laughs and says there are none - it's meaningless - but you're welcome to go ahead#and try. If you find God you have the feeling it would just stare at you blankly. Then laugh.#Chakotay: Captain I've been so worried about you! Have you found a solution? / Janeway: Absolutely. I'm going to walk into the death shrine#Chakotay: (internally hysterical) Oh of COURSE!!!! no of COURSE she's going to walk into the DEATH SHRINE!!!!#great imagery in this one <3 folks who love religious imagery (me) will get a kick outta this one <3#anyway I love when star trek does hopeful eps like this...makes me tear up like. Yeah there could be a scientific explanation but that#doesn't make it MORE true or MORE real than the religious one - it's just as valid to believe in the spirits#Also those three old creeps were lovely <3 scared me and I like that! existential dread!
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-> when the jjk men fuck the tightest girly around <3
tw# reader is small, unprotected sex, size kink, "fat" cock, tummy bulge, cervix fxcking +++++ reader's 🐱 is too small for them :( no sukuna bc i do not wish death upon the reader
18+ NSFW
Toji
Most women he meets are "tight" by his standards. He's used to it. He finds himself constantly dealing with complaints; too fucking big, it won't fit. But you... you're tighter. He knows he'll have to be careful. He rests his dick on your belly and just watches you panic for a minute. He looks at your body and how your legs are folded up and the way his hand seems to cover your whole midriff where he's holding you still. Your eyes dart down to his cock, that's just so... fat. He holds it in his hand and starts teasing you with the tip, sliding up and down, pushing you open. But he's just playing with you.
When you beg him just right he starts slotting himself inside while his predatory gaze fixes on your puffy lower stomach. You wonder why he's staring there so intently until you look down to see him sinking in, followed by the unmistakable rise of your stomach. Your eyes go wide. You've never seen anything like that before. He rests his hand there to feel himself and just gives you an arrogant smirk, loving your shocked reaction.
He leans in some more and your legs start trying to squeeze shut. He just gets all frustrated and mad that he can't stuff all his cock inside in one go, but he deals with it and sinks inside as far as you'll take him. Maybe he can get a nice cock ring to hug his base next time so he can get a little attention there as well. It feels wrong, not being balls deep inside you, but he knows he would literally tear you open if he got back any further.
"I'm not all the way in. Is that seriously all you can take? Pussy's so small, come here- oh, shit, tha's really the back, huh? Ok, ok, calm down, don't fuckin' cry, baby, I'll just sit nice and snug against you here- yeah, is that your cervix? It hurts? Look, there's still inches of me left, just let me have this, let me- ngh, don't tell me not to cum inside- I'll cum where I want, pretty girl."
Kento
It's your first time 'sleeping over' at his place and he's more fucking nervous than you. You've never even seen his dick before but when you unzip him while he's grabbing at his thighs trying to contain a moan you hold and squeeze him and he barely fits.
You're using two hands on his shaft and your tongue on his tip- now you can really see what you're dealing with your mouth is starting to water. You do your best to accommodate him with your mouth first, sucking only half his cock like some massive, thick lollypop. Then when he tugs at your hair and lifts you up onto his spread legs, you feel his sticky tip poking your cute pussy and you just have to try.
He lets you go down at your own pace as your body struggles with the circumference of his shaft. But he's getting in there, slowly, and he's groaning and sighing so beautifully you just have to keep going. You have to try to take him whole, but it just stops. You let out a squeal of frustration. But, to your pleasure, he just holds your back and starts moving his hips, guiding you over his massive member.
"Mmh- mm, fuck- both hands, honey, yeah- o-oh, your mouth, ah, is that the back of your throat, already? Okay, come up here, yeah keep your legs nice and wide- hold onto my shoulders, that's it. Mm, yeah, slower, slower, d-don't rush it, hah- ah, fuck! No, no, that's it you can't go any deeper, sweetie, don't worry please don't hurt yourself. That's enough. Good girl, let me do it now."
Satoru
This kitty got claws, and god damn he's gonna sink them into the fat of your ass when he's impatiently trying to get his dick in your cute little hole. He moans and cries and nearly pulls out to throw a fucking tantrum because he can't fit, but after scolding him and telling him you don't care how many inches he can get inside you his usual bravado returns. He holds the slim curve of your waist that just looks ridiculously tiny in his big hands and he just stares at where he's sinking in and out of you, getting your cream all over him.
He grabs your hair into a ponytail now, his thumb playfully slipping over your ass while he rails you with all he can give you and he starts to feel rather smug. Although he's not getting his usual treatment- a deep fucking that has sweet pussy juices of his lucky partner coating him right from base to the very tip of his perfectly curved cock- he is starting to enjoy the fact that he's just too long.
He's joked about it, sure, turning girls down, saying stuff like, 'you won't be able to handle me anyway, princess', or 'you should fuck my friend instead, his dick isn't as big'. But he didn't realise he'd ever actually find a girl so tiny that it just wasn't physically possible. It's not as if he needed an ego boost in that department, but he starts to enjoy the idea so much that he has to get his phone out to take a few pictures (that will definitely get a lot of use). Maybe he'll show Suguru, too, just to show off a little. But he really does need to get his whole cock coated, so maybe next time he'll try your ass.
"It won't fit!! Ugh, it's not fair, how come I ended up with the cutest most pretty girl who has the smallest puss- oh! Ok, I'm sorry, jesus! Don't take it so personally I just wanted to fuck you properly... tsk- yeah, at least you're all filled up, huh? Yeah? Oh, it really does feel good? Ok, ok fine let me fuck you like this I don't care- yeah, s'not my fault my dick is so big just- ugh, get on your knees, mmh- yeah show me that ass!"
Suguru
He tries to coax you open so gently and frowns like he's done something wrong, encouraging you as if he could expand the very walls of your vagina, as if he could relocate your cervix. He spits on your clit and rubs it around with his thumb in slow circles until you cream on him one more time and he sucks his teeth from that squeezing sensation that feels so much hotter because of how small you are.
And he's so fucking determined that it's his fault, but you know it's you, so you try to explain that it's all you can take and he almost doesn't believe you until he sees you wince in pain from where he's pressed against your cervix.
He looks so shocked and mesmerised, he has to pull all the way out and get his fingers inside you to check. His fingers are long and yes, they can reach close to the back too and you let out a little yelp at the familiar feeling of being filled. Two fingers. Two long, masculine fingers is all it takes and you're squirming and writhing around. He has to pin you down and sink his cock back in with new found urgency now, telling you to pinch at his nipples if you need him to ease up.
"Baby, baby shh, I know you can take some more, just- yeah, try to relax, let me open you up- mmh- maybe you just need one more, one more- that's it. No way? I can't get any fucking deeper? I- I've never fucked a girl with such a cute pussy- no it's okay don't say sorry, you're gorgeous- so fucking tight it's making me dizzy. Uh uh, no you won't just suck me off instead I'm going to fuck you stupid just don't let me hurt you, ok?"
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#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#female reader#18+ content#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento#satoru gojo#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#geto suguru smut#suguru geto#geto x reader#suguru x reader#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen drabble
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