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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.

The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”

It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.

Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.

It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.

They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.

He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.

After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.

And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.

Well, usually, it’d be trash.

Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.

“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”

Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.

Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.

Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.

“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.

“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”

Danny waved vaguely.

“…What are you?”

“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.

“…”

Neither, apparently, was the answer.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”

“…I see.”

“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”

With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.

Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.

“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”

Batman nodded once, sharply.

“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.

——

Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.

And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.

When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”

“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.

“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”

Batman sighed. “What are you?”

Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.

“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”

Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.

“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”

——

Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf

Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)

Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)

Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)

——

Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*

——

Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:

Sea spirits

Sea vampires

How to parent supernatural kids

How to thank your sea child

Are shells a good gift?

Ocean conservation efforts

Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight

Sea spirits that cleans up beaches

Wayne corporation waste disposal

Companies that dump trash into the sea

*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*

What is “mean girls”

——

Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:

Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*

#batman #danny phantom #dc x dp #Danny picks Batman up like a waterlogged shoe #like this isn’t supposed to be in the sea #I live near a beach #please do not litter on a beach #I saw someone leave one of those plastic mesh bags for oranges and a seagul got stuck in it #beaches are precious #fight me #bamf danny phantom #bruce wayne #Bruce Wayne: I’ve seen a sea spirit #Danny Fenton: Batman is littering on the beach with his plane #dc x dp crossover #oracle #oh my god Batman you can’t just ask someone what they are #sea cryptic! danny AU

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samandcolbyownme · 2 months

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This one shot is going to have reader being choked with a chain necklace, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOURE UNCOMFORTABLE!

Also, if you haven't read part 1, I suggest doing so before reading this part!

Summary: request in the comments of part one - "omg maybe you can continue?? pleasee than jake finds out. or maybe that johnnie goes live again and y/n walks by and the chat sees her neck and asks in to it?"

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, CHOKING with a metal chain, hair pulling, biting, scratching, oral (m rec), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, general filth

Word count: 2.8K | not edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Your fingers grazed over the slightly faded bruises from a few days ago. You're actually surprised they haven't gone away yet, same as Johnnie.

"Whatcha doing?" Johnnie asks and you jump slightly, "God damn, I need to put a bell on you."

He laughs, smiling as he walks up behind you, "Still haven't gone away, huh?"

He reaches up to move your hair, looking at the yellowish brown color of the bruising, "Taking its good old time I guess."

You laugh, spinning around to face him, "I guess so." You hook your finger over the same chain that was used to wrap around your neck, "What are your plans today?"

You look up at him, and he smirks, "I talked Jake into doing a stream with me."

You raise your brows, nodding, "Ah, sounds fun."

"Yeah, I don't know what we're doing. Jake said he's bringing something over, so I'm kind of scared."

You laugh, "Yeah, you never know what the man has planned." You slide your hands up his chest, "So I was thinking.."

"Oh, I like when you think." Johnnie laughs softly and you twirl the chain around your finger, "maybe when you're done streaming.." you bite your lip and look up at him.

He tilts his head, "Mm, I see. You don't want those bruises to go away, do you?"

You shrug, "I think of it.." you lean in closer to him, "As a semi-permanent necklace from the one I love dearly."

He clears his throat, "Fuck, okay. I mean.." he sighs, "That's hot. I can't lie."

You smirk, sighing slightly as you hear the front door open, "He has the worst possible timing on this planet."

"Yo, john john." Jake yells, his footsteps growing closer as he walks back the hall, "Where the fak are ya!?"

"I'm not here." Johnnie yells back and you try not to laugh too loudly. Jake walks back, stopping when he sees you and Johnnie.

"Um, I'm just gonna.." he points with his thumb behind him and slowly takes a few steps back.

"We're not doi-"

Jake cuts you off, "Yeah, uh huh. Alright."

You laugh, "You better go." Johnnie kisses your forehead, "Don't go too far." He smirks, giving you a wink before turning and running into the door frame.

"Oh." You cover your mouth and he sighs, "You make me nervous. This is your fault." He points back to you before stepping over and walking out.

You shake your head laughing, flipping off the light switch as you walk out to the living room.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A little bit later, you hear Johnnie call for you from the room, "Hey babe."

"Yeah?" You yell back.

"Come here. There's donuts."

You get up, walking back the hall, peaking your head around the opening, "Donuts you say?"

"Yeah, come get some before ass face eats them all." Johnnie laughs and you tilt your head, "Johnnie, that wasn't nice." You smile walking in and Jake points to Johnnie like a child, "Ah ha. You got yelled at."

"I'll yell at you next if you want me to." You say walking around to stand behind them.

Jake shakes his head, mouth full of donut muffling his words, "No ma'am." He holds his hands up, "I'm good."

You laugh, reaching between them to grab a donut from the box.

You hear Jake whispering and donut pieces fly from his mouth, landing on Johnnie as he yells, "Johnnie! What did you do to y/n?"

"Dude! Your donuts chunks are spewing all over me." Johnnie wipes himself off, looking up to read the chat quickly before looking at Jake, "What are you ta-"

His eyes go wide, along with yours, and he starts to laugh nervously, "Oh, um.. that."

Jake tosses his donut down, standing up a he wipes his icing covered fingers on his shirt, "What the fuck. Was this consensual?!"

"Oh my god." You turn away, "Can you not make it a big deal, Jake."

Johnnie sits there, a nervous smirk on his face, "guys. I think.. I can try and explain this.."

"No, guys. I don't think he tried to murder her." Jake answers the chat, "Johnnie is a menace." He laugh, "Yeah, a menace to society."

You turn back around, "I'm just gonna, step over to the side." You laugh and walk out of camera view.

"It was not, and I repeat not attempted murder." Johnnie lifts his hands, "That's my commentary. Moving on."

"Was it from the chain around your neck?" Jake looks over at Johnnie, trying to hold back his laughter, "That's a great question."

"I said moving on." Johnnie yells while laughing, "Jesus Christ."

Your hand moves up to lay over your neck, taking in what just happened.

"How many people are here?" Jake leans in, squinting, "Forty thousand people now know that you're an attempted murderer."

"Jake, no. No. Let's not spread that around." Johnnie rests his elbow on the table, laying his head in his hand, "for fucks sake."

"Nah, if Johnnie was a murder, he'd come-" Jake laughs, "For me first. Let's be honest."

You roll your eyes, "I genuinely cannot.." you sigh, shaking your head, "Fuck me."

"I'm sure if you gave Johnnie the chance he would." Jake looks at you and you nod, "How do you think the marks got here in the first place?"

Jake's mouth drops as he slowly turns to Johnnie, "You fucking freak."

Johnnie smiles at you, shaking his head as he leans down to pretend to bash it off the table, "You know if you weren't here-"

"Your life would be boring. I know." Jake smirks, pulling his shoulders up, "You're welcome."

"I was going to say better, but whatever helps you sleep at night." Johnnie rolls his eyes. He leans in, groaning as he reads the chat, "Figure it out yourselves."

He laughs, "Y/n. How did that happen?"

You shrug, "I'm not really sure, I woke up one morning and they were there."

"Oh god, don't." Johnnie laughs, "I promise it wasn't me."

Jake starts laughing hard, "They.. oh my god, they wanna know if it was Timmy."

You start laughing, "Jesus Christ. No." You shake your head, yelling, "I'm leaving."

You walk back out to the living room, getting onto Johnnie's stream on your phone, mainly to read the comments.

User1: NAH it was definitely the chain around Johnnie's neck you can't tell me ANYTHING different User2: JOHNNIE WTF User3: wait. I think y/n joined the stream User4: JOHNNIE YOUR GF IS SO HOT

"Y/n. You're in the living room. Get out." Johnnie waves his hand, "Oh the chat I mean. Get out of my stream."

You smirk as you type, Ouch. That was rude.

"Thank you. I know my girlfriend is hot." Johnnie shrugs, "Why she wants to be with me? I have no idea, but I'm grateful for it."

User5: JOHNNIE be nice to y/n Used6: oh my god I love these people User7: so y/n, tell us about the bruises User8: PLEASE BEGGING ON MY KNEES User9: WAS IT THE CHAIN IT WAS THE CHAIN WASNT IT

You laugh, I have no comment on that matter lol.

"Y/n!" Johnnie yells, getting up to leave the room. He walks out the hall and stands there staring at you, "Babe!"

"What?" You ask innocently, "I'm just.. watching this cute guys stream, well.." you show him your phone, "the cute guy left us with his weird friend.. Jake, I think his name is?"

"Ha ha, very funny." He walks over, leaning down. Your eyes look at the chain that's swinging from his neck and you look back up at him, "Don't tease me like that."

He smiles, "I'm not doing anything." He stands up, turning to walk away and you watch as he disappears back the hallway, reappearing on your phone screen, "Sorry. I had to um, yeah."

Jake is sitting there eating another donut, "uh huh. So anyway.."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It's around ten when Jake and Johnnie finally end the stream.

You're sitting in bed, scrolling on your phone when you see a notification pop up. You tap it, laughing when you see a picture of Johnnie with the words above it, 'I just know this guy is a freak in the sheets.'

"Johnnie, baby!" You call out and Johnnie walks into the bedroom, "What?" He closes the door and walks over to you.

You turn your phone around and he sighs, hanging his head down, "Oh fuck. Here comes the memes."

You reach over to set your phone on the stand, leaning back over to look up at him, "I mean.. I can definitely confirm that this meme is true."

"Oh yeah?" He tilts his head and you twirl the metal around your finger as you nod, "Mhm."

He brushes hair from your face, "I can confirm the same about you, you know that right?" You shrug, "If you want, or you can just experience for yourself."

You bite your lip as you smile and he nods, "Mm, now that's tough choice."

You tug on the chain slightly, "Metal chain part two sounds good right now doesn't it."

He nods, "One hundred percent." He smirks as he dips his head down to attach his lips to yours.

You kick the blankets off, revealing your, already bare, legs.

Johnnie slides a hand down, slipping it between your thighs, "Soaked." He mumbles against your lips, slipping his fingers in past the thin lining of your panties.

"Tell me when you want it." He whispers, lips brushing against yours.

You let out a small moan, gasping as he pushes his fingers in deeper, "Fuck, now."

He lifts the chain off over his head, letting it fall over yours, "All yours, my love." Johnnie smirks as he wraps the metal chain around his hand.

He slowly tightens it as he works his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt.

Your eyes flutter closed as the metal tightens against your skin, slowly causing your whimpers and moans to become quieter and quieter.

He keeps the chain tight against your neck as his fingers work in and out of you at a pace that's sure to get you where he wants you.

"You gonna cum for me?" He asks in a low tone.

You nod, squeezing his fingers.

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel so close to that knot in your stomach snapping - until he stops, slipping his fingers from you.

"J-Johnnie." You whimper, frustrated that he stoped right when you were about to cum.

He releases the chain and lets it drop onto your chest, "Knees baby."

You sit up, sliding down off of the bed and resting on your knees. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, standing up to undo the belt on his jeans.

You slip your shirt off over your body, leaving you in nothing but your panties and the chain hanging down between your boobs.

You reach up, pulling down his pants, eager to have him inside of you, way one or the other.

Johnnie unbuttons his black button up, letting it lay open as he watches you move in between his knees. He lifts his hips to slip down his boxers, biting down gently into his lip ring when one of your hands wraps around the base of his cock.

His head tilts back slightly, eyes still on you as you slowly stroke him.

You lick your lips, looking up at him as you watch him completely melt into your touch.

"Fuck, baby." Johnnie breathes out, reaching down to hook his finger over the chain. He pulls it up, using it to pull you closed to his cock, "Don't tease me, sweetheart."

You open your mouth, taking the top of his cock into your mouth, causing a groan to escape his lips. The chain slowly tightens as he gradually moves his hand down it getting it closer to your neck.

He twists it, sliding his hand back to loop it around his hand as you bob your head up and down.

His hips buck as he gasps, "Fuck."

You push your head down as far as it can go, holding it there until he tugs on the chain, "So fucking good."

You smirk up at him, dipping your head back down to take the head of his cock back between your lips.

He lays his other hand on your head, gently rubbing his thumb over your hair as you work your way back down onto him, "S-shit, that's it baby."

You squeeze your eyes shut, bobbing your head a few more times before he pulls the chain, getting you to pop off.

You lean back, smirking up at him with watery eyes as a string of saliva keeps you connected to him.

He lets go of the chain, biting onto his lip ring as he swipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb, "Ride me."

You scramble to your feet, chain still in Johnnie's hand like a leash as you push your panties down and flick them away with your foot.

Johnnie moves backwards on the bed, pulling you along with him.

You crawl up his body, straddling his waist. He pulls you down, connecting his lips with yours. You reach down between your bodies, taking his cock into your hand as you lift up.

You keep your lips on his, moaning into his mouth as you sink down onto him.

A groan leaves his lips and the chain tightens around your neck, "Fucking shit." Johnnie breathes out, "You feel so fucking good."

You whimper quietly as you move your hips up and down.

Rocking forward and back, hands on his chest as he keeps the chain right where you want it.

Your eyes close as you let yourself rest all the way down, a strangle moan escaping as the chain looses for just a quick second.

Johnnie pulling you down to him, your body going naturally, "Keep going, sweetheart."

You dig your nails into his chest as you push down to lift yourself up, earning moans from Johnnie as you slide back down.

You felt close again, even though you couldn't say it, he knew.

"Come on, baby. You can do it." He coaches, "Cum for me."

You tilt your head back, the chain pulling tighter. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, muffled moans slip through your parted lips as you clench your walls around his cock.

Johnnie bucks his hips upward as his fingers dig into your hip, "Just like that, baby. Fuck, just like that."

You look down at him, hair falling in front of your face, which he quickly brushes away so he can watch you.

His eyes scan down your body, lip pulled between his teeth as his breathing grows heavier.

He sits up, taking over as he lays you flat on your back, chain pinned down right next to your neck - you knew there would be new bruises tomorrow.

But that was the point.

Johnnie's thrusts are hard, fast, full of love and pleasure. He loved making you feel good.

If it wasn't for the chain holding you'd back, you'd probably be screaming, moaning his name over and over again loudly.

Your nails drag up his arms and dig them into his shoulders. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours as he causes the chain to loosen.

He swallows your moans, groaning as he lays a hand on your cheek, thrusting his cock into you.

He holds it there as he twitches, alternating kissing your lips and neck, "Did I hurt you?"

You lay a hand on his cheek, brushing his hair from his eyes, "No, but just don't panic tomorrow morning when there's more bruises."

"You are such a freak." He smirks, sitting up, "But I love you."

"I think I've heard that once or twice before." You smirk, "I love you."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I couldn't stop thinking about this, so I hope you enjoyed it. Making Headlines for Sam Golbach will be out next, and hopefully soon.

As always, I love yas. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought of it! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #Johnnie Guilbert #johnnie guilbert one shot #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie Guilbert smut one shot #Dirty one shot #smut johnnie guilbert #smut one shot #Johnnie Guilbert one shot smut

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starrylevi · 4 months

Note

Can you do more Levi and chunky baby.

Of course!!! ☺️ Okay so this kind of got away from me. I had trouble figuring out how to end it so if the ending seems abrupt I apologize 😅

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

“This little sucker’s got some weight on them.” Hange teases with a smile as she pokes the baby’s cheek.

“Sounds like you’re just weak.” Levi retorts. “Give me my child.”

Hange rolls their eyes at him. “I never said it was a bad thing, Levi.”

Levi stares at Hange for a few seconds before he relents.

“Your dad’s so easy to anger.” Hange speaks in a childlike voice to the baby. “Good luck, kid.”

“Certain people are quick to anger me.” Levi corrects them as he throws a glare their way.

Hange’s eyes light up when you walk into the room. “Ah, y/n, could you please tell your husband to lighten up?” They request as they walk over to you, your baby babbling on their hip.

You quickly look at Levi who rolls his eyes and you shake your head with a chuckle. “What did you do this time, Hange?”

“I just said your baby’s got some nice weight on them.” Hange says with a smile before looking back at the baby. “Don’t cha, ya little plum.”

You sigh with a smile, knowing your baby’s weight is a touchy subject for Levi. “I’m sure you didn’t mean in a bad way.”

Hange looks back at your husband as if to say ‘See, Levi?’

“However, you should be careful about what you say around him. I won’t be liable for any injuries.” You tell Hange with a smirk as they pass you the child.

“You gotta tell your auncle to be careful with their words or daddy will hurt them.” You take them into your arms, kissing them on the cheek, emitting a happy babble from them. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Hange says mockingly, making you giggle, before they walk out of the room.

You walk over to Levi whose eyes soften as you get closer. “Hi.” You greet him softly before you give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hey.” Levi sighs as he gently pulls you in by the waist for another kiss, minding the baby. “And hello to you too.” He gives them a gentle kiss on their forehead.

“I was thinking of taking a shower. Do you mind?” You ask him.

“Of course not, give ‘em here.”

After you leave the room, Levi puts down a clean baby blanket on the floor before he sets a colorful inflatable water mat right in front of it.

“Alright kid, it’s tummy time.” He places the baby down on their stomach with their upper half directly on top of the mat.

He watches as the baby becomes fixated on the squishy fish and ducks floating around in the mat. Their chubby hands try to grab at the fish while they try to hold themselves up. “There you go.” Levi says under his breath. The baby doesn’t typically like tummy time so you and Levi tried to think of different ideas to make it more stimulating for them. This inflatable mat is what you two decided on.

They seemed to be entertained for a few minutes before he sees their little body slowly roll themselves over so that they’re on their side. “Where do you think you’re going, hm?” Levi gently grabs the one chubby hand in the air and brings it back down so that they’re upright on their stomach again. The same thing happens a few more times. “Now you’re just being a little shit, huh.” He watches as the baby rolls over for the last time on their back. “Wonder where you got your stubbornness from.” He mutters to himself as he picks up the little chunk. The baby babbles and taps his cheeks with their little hands. “I’m sure that was fun for you, wasn’t it?” He asks them, earning a babble from them as a response. “Yeah, I bet…”

Levi grabs one of the baby snacks on the dresser before sitting down on the rocking chair you begged him to get, baby on his lap. “What am I gonna do with you?” He shakes his head as he opens the bag and feeds the baby a snack. “Should we just leave you somewhere?” Levi asks thoughtfully. As the baby chews on the snack, they look up at their father, their big sliver eyes mirroring his. The way they’re looking up makes it seem like they understood what Levi said. “No you don’t like that idea?” The baby continues to stare at him, making Levi let out a chuckle before he feeds them another snack. “Love you bud.”

#sorry about the ending #I don’t know what happened #smh #i’m so obsessed #I feel like I need to work on how Levi talks to the baby #does it seem ooc? I’m so anxious about it I don’t know if I’m doing it right 😭#levi #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x y/n #levi drabble #dadvi #dad!levi #manda writes

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rustedhearts · 8 months

Text

misled (college!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: overtaken by irritations with his playboy persona, you distance yourself from steve. but how long can you really stay away?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the scholar stud masterlist ✶ main masterlist

tags: angst-ish; steve’s a whore; general horniness; teasing; smut; frat-party-sex; rough-ish; choking (but not really); once again not edited.

“late at night, body’s yearning. restless night, want to be with you. someone’s playing in the garden, so enticing, he’s sure to take a bite.”

misled, kool & the gang

somewhere in indiana, october 1988. tillman university.

last week...

"So, you fucked me and don't even have the courtesy to call after?"

The students listening across the hall winced at the sound of your voice shrilling through the hall. Peeking through the crack, the rear of Steve Harrington's chestnut tresses, recently conditioned and gleaming in the fluorescents, could be seen standing in front of your door. Behind you, your roommate, Caroline, could be seen hovering a pink nail polish brush over her big toe, too stunned by the confrontation to even move.

"Heh," Steve chuckled, bracing one hand against the doorframe. "I was gonna call, baby."

Chest tight with an air bubble of embarrassment, you glared at him fervently through a pair of thinly rimmed glasses. "Yeah, when?"

Steve, though never usually colored with humiliation, tinged pink. He'd slept with plenty of girls and never called—but with you, it was purely accidental. He meant to call, he honestly did. But then his dad appeared the day and demanded Steve's attention, and off they went to their second home in Connecticut, where he laid down "the law."

"The law" being that this was Steve's year to "get his head on straight," and drop the poli-sci major for pre-med as originally intended.

"I've let you screw around long enough," Mr. Harrington gruffed over a grilled lobster, white chunks buried in his teeth. "It's time to get serious."

"Sweetheart, listen—"

"—I thought I was 'distracting.' I thought you were so obsessed with me that I barely had my bag down before you were humping me like a dog, Harrington," you snipped. "What happened to that?"

The girls across the hall giggled and snickered, and Caroline grimaced into her nail polish bottle. Steve, on the other hand, pushed himself away from the doorframe and crossed his arms. You hadn't meant to be so cruel, the words just came rushing out like a tap on high—and it came out scalding hot.

"You're cute." His tone matched yours, sharp-edged and mean. "I said I was sorry, that not enough?"

You mirrored his stance, arms folded tightly over your baggy t-shirt. "You didn't, actually."

Dropping his arms defeatedly, Steve sighed and tipped against the doorway again. His cruelty fizzled out, overtaken by soft, rounded eyes of hazel brightness.

"Well I am, alright? C'mon, you gonna make me stay out here and beg?"

The shuffling across the hall ceased, the girls taken aback by Steve's murmured words. You, on the other hand, watched him carefully. He was handsome, no doubt, and knew how to turn on the sweetness like a honey drip. But is that all it was—an act? Did he mean all he said in his dorm that night? Or did his reputation precede him, and he just knew how to work you a little too well?

You could feel your edges rounding, melting bit by bit like butter in the heat. You reached for the door, prepared to open it a bit further and ask him inside—but a whizz of long, silky blonde hair flittered by and skirted to a stop. It came with a thin, fair-skinned face and eyes as blue as water. A girl too pretty for Tillman, a girl too pretty to be real.

"Steve?" she gasped, staring at the back of the boy's head with a wide grin. "There you are, I haven't seen you in ages!"

The quiet across the hall quickly morphed to noisy commotion: fumbling, gasping, and a little profanity. The softness quickly hardened like caulk, and you whipped the door halfway shut, flashing Steve a bitter grin. The blonde's hand reached for Steve's arm, turning him to face her and avert his attention.

But the boy's big eyes were only set on you, welled up with pleading. "Honey, wait, it's not what it—"

"See you around, Harrington."

today...

Since that day in the hall, you did everything you could to avoid Steve Harrington.

But it seemed Steve Harrington didn't let up easy.

He was there when you got back from class, waiting for a chance to explain himself. You rushed past him with a speed he couldn't keep up with (and the other girls glared at him with such ferocity that he worried for his safety). He stared at you in class, eyes unabashedly fixated in the rear of his chair, back to the professor until a sharp "Mr. Harrington," startled him back into focus.

But on the fifth day, when all you offered was silence, Steve felt his patience wear thin.

When your familiar scent wafted by on the way out of British Lit, Steve shot his hand out and grabbed you by the arm. You gasped upon impact against the wall, heart racing at the sight of Steve's firm body blocking you in. He felt firmer than before—or maybe you just missed the solidity of those bronzed muscles. Scented overpoweringly of vetiver and amber, coaxing you with that animalistic restlessness that festered in your veins just like last time.

Steve's lip quirked upward, hand pressing flat against the wall beside your head. "How long's this gonna last, sweetheart?"

You could feel yourself slipping into a daze. What harm could dipping your toe in the murky water really do? It certainly looked enticing—with all his bulging muscles, and beautiful plump lips—

No. You had to have some self-respect.

"I’m over you, Steve. Simple as that.”

Steve watched you tip your nose up at him, jut your little chin out and huff. You were good, he’d give you that—enough to keep a calm face beneath his heavy stare. But he could see the way your chest stuttered beneath your shirt, how your nose flared with shallow breaths. You lingered on his mouth a little too long to be over him.

He slid his tongue over his teeth and shrugged, pulling his hand away from your head. “Alright, baby. Whatever you say.”

Steve whirled around and strode down the hall, shoulders pulled back and head held tall. If you wanted to play, he’d play. But he wouldn’t make it easy for you.

✶ ✶

“No Harrington at the door, that’s new,” Caroline snickered as she kicked the door shut behind her.

You glanced at her over your shoulder from your place in the mirror. Makeup bag spilled over the tiled floor, lips sticky with gloss, you were ten minutes deep into a carefully crafted eye look meant for one night only. Alpha Phi were hosting a Halloween party tonight, and you were determined to prove Caroline—and Steve—wrong. You were over him. Totally, 100%, completely over Steve Harrington.

You didn’t even care if he’d be there tonight, which you knew he would. Maybe that’s why you insisted on keeping your dress pulled down so low, skirt hiked high. You wondered what he’d decide to wear. Something tight on his chest, stretched thin across the broadness of his back. Maybe something dark, because dark colors made his eyes brighten and sparkle.

Swallowing, you tossed your eyeliner back into the makeup bag and huffed. “It was about time he got the hint.”

Caroline’s gaze narrowed. “Right. Because you’re over him.”

Straightening your spine, you grinned at the mirror and nodded. Even a heavy, centering breath couldn’t calm the stirring in your stomach. An arousal burrowing deep in your bones.

“Absolutely.”

✶ ✶

He wore a black suit. Somehow, though it covered his limbs completely, it made him look bigger. A tall vision of lean limbs striding through tightly-knit bodies leaking liquored sweat. The music Alpha Phi played seemed to muffle at the sight of his back, heading toward another room where people waited. Waited for him. Just for him, in all his pretty boy glory.

The black clothes on your body stiffened, and you huffed as you plucked at the fabric thinning with dampness. You just got here and you were already pining.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pushing through a group of people at your left to maneuver toward the kitchen.

You wanted to be souped up and fuzzy with alcohol haze in the next twenty minutes, or else you weren’t sure you’d make it. As you scrutinized the drink selections wading in ice buckets on the kitchen counters, a familiar, deep-throated chuckle rumbled somewhere behind you. You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling slowly, curling your fingers into fists in time with the swell of breath. You could do this. Steve Harrington was just a boy, and there had been plenty of boys over the years. He wasn't special.

Opening your eyes, you snatched a pumpkin flavored ale from the first bucket and reached for the bottle opener.

"Here, sweetheart, lemme get that for you."

Steve's hand swallowed your own, plucking the opener from your grasp as easily as a toy from a baby. He crowded you, arm brushing your own as he popped the top off the amber bottle of beer with ease. It clattered somewhere on the floor, but Steve seemed uninterested in mess; his eyes settled on you as he held the opened bottle out, sunglasses tucked in the collar of his t-shirt.

You reached for the bottle, but he held it out of reach toward his elbow. Frustration took hold in your throat, lumped like undigested food. And it found home in your stomach, twisting like a thin blade in a mess of guts. You can do this, you reminded yourself. He's just a boy.

"Steve," you huffed, glaring at his chest instead of the sly smirk toying on his handsome mouth.

"What, no thank you?"

Lifting your eyes, you settled a hard, narrowed gaze on his forehead and reached for the bottle again. "Thanks."

Steve shot the bottle up toward the ceiling, held tight in his fist. He was wearing a silver ring on his right ring finger and that slutty, brown leather-banded watch again.

You swallowed, fingers recoiling toward your sides where they twitched with need. Flashes of those long, slender fingers of his skating over your flesh came like waves of heat. Massaging fat, pulling, prodding, spreading, diving into wetness and coming out soaked. How sometime after he dressed you again, when his roommate calmed his frustrated screaming, complaining about washing Steve's "jizz" out of his comforter, Steve's fingers found your bottom lip and traced their softness. How sometime on the walk back to your dorm, he pressed you against the brick wall in the walkway and wrapped them around your jaw to devour your mouth.

"You can't take it, can you?" Steve's voice, graveling lowly with an erotic rasp, snapped you out of your syrup-sticky thoughts.

He was closer now, standing toe-to-toe, gazing at you down the slope of his nose. Your beer bottle still in the air, his other hand dangling emptily near yours, Steve stood at a proximity so near that you could smell the cigarette on his breath. The outline of the pack in his front left pocket was enough to have you squirming. You craned your neck, attempting to release it of strain and tension from a constriction of muscles. Not even the tightest clench of your core could calm the festering heat settling in your body.

"W-what?" you scoffed, head shaking. "Can't take what?"

You lacked the bite of last week's confrontation, and both of you could tell. Steve swooped down a little closer, neck arching to meet your height. His eyes lolled left, then right, then back to your face where they met your mouth like he readied to tell a secret.

"You're all squirmy, darlin'," he mumbled, voice almost slipping away in the music from a stereo in the living room. "You want me. I can tell."

Pressing your teeth together, jaw wired shut, you huffed a breath through your nose and fixed up your chin. "In. Your. Dreams."

Beer abandoned, you whirled around on one foot and stomped toward the way you came. Behind you, Steve straightened his spine and tongued away a grin. Through the opening above the sink, Steve watched you dash toward the stairs, hair flouncing with every rushed stomp. You were insatiable. It would be so much easier for you to give in, but your stubbornness prevented you.

Steve set the open beer down on the counter and headed toward the hall, knowing even he could no longer stomach your hard-headedness. If he had to be the one to give in, then so be it. But watching your ass sway in that little black dress, your breasts rise and fall in quick, shallow successions in that plunging neckline, jeweled with a little, blinged-out blue cross—Christ, his knees felt weak.

He wanted you in his hands, and he wanted it yesterday.

With bounding, leaping steps up the stairs, Steve hurried to place you in the mass of bodies. The music faded, swallowed by distance and the blood rushing in his ears. He threw open doors and ignored screeches of bare, naked surprise from stray couples that couldn't contain their own impatience. When he made it to the bathroom door, he skirted toward the front of a line of girls half-clothed forming against the wall and knocked twice.

"Hey, back of the line," a red-head in a witch hat snapped at him from the front.

Glaring at her, Steve knocked again, incessantly desperate.

"Somebody's in here!" your voice called sweetly from the other side.

Screwing his face up at the girl still huffing and puffing at him, he jiggled the door handle. "It's me, sweetheart, just open the door."

A quiet 'oh, Christ' came through the door, and Steve shuffled back a step as things slammed and clattered on the other side. The witch hat girl crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, and Steve shot her another sharp look before the door flung open. Before you could admonish him with more synthetic, short syllable grievances, Steve breached the gap between your bodies and grabbed your face. Two big hands, slender-fingered and cooled with metallic accessory, scented of cologne and tobacco and Steve, pressing firmly against your cheeks and partially under your jaw.

Steve used this hold to pull you in, mouths attaching and eyes sinking shut. Tongue gliding against yours, searching the crevices of your teeth, sloppy and needy and completely blinded by the tightness in his pants.

"God, get a room already!"

Steve popped away from your mouth with a soft, detaching slurp. You heaved for air, cheeks round with warmth, lips plumped with rushing blood.

His eyes rummaged your face, and when he found nothing but astonished thrill, he slipped his hold to your hand and gave it a little sideways tug. "C'mon."

The stumble to a free bedroom came with a fumbling of clothes and wandering hands. The search for a bed without people already humping on it was fruitless, and so dazed with lust, Steve snapped at a couple with such ferocity that they went skittering out of the room before anyone could protest. And once the door was locked and the bed once-overed for ick, Steve grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back in again.

It was as you were bouncing back on the bed, shuffling to make room for him on the duvet while exploring his mouth with your tongue, that Steve pulled away.

"Mmm...wait, wait..."

Pulling back to sit on his haunches, Steve smoothed his hands over your thighs, teasing them under the hem of your dress—just to keep touching you, stimulating you, keeping you there. Your breath came and went rapidly, body collecting heat in the wait. Your fingers were practically buzzing to touch him again, thighs quaking with anticipation of the burning stretch from his body between them. You were itching for him. Sitting there in all his glory, black fabric and tousled hair.

"I just...I wanna say, baby, I really meant to call you. Honestly, honey, I did."

You sighed, desperation taking a rest at the softness of his voice. Reaching out, you rubbed the pad of your finger over his ring. "Okay—"

"And that girl? I haven't seen her in months—she said so herself! I just...I had a past before you, sweetheart, but that's all it is. Just the past."

A smile swept over your face, small and coy and completely taken by his boyish admission. Sincerity held his eyes with unblinking certainty. You reached up and brushed his hair away from them, thumb sweeping across his cheek.

"Okay, Steve. I believe you."

As though triggered out of some conditioned state, Steve pounced at your forgiveness. His weight toppled down on you, pushing a wheezed giggle from your mouth as he attached his own to your neck. Your amusement trickled straight back into arousal, thighs tightening around his hips as his fingers looped into and tugged down the front of your dress.

"Christ, couldn't take it anymore," he mumbled, wiggling down to smatter kisses across your chest. "Had to...mmm...have you."

Gliding your fingers through his hair, you tipped your head back toward the ceiling and sighed blissfully. “Then have me, Steve.”

The groan Steve expelled against your breasts came with a gust of hot breath, and a rumble that had you gasping and shivering. He nipped at the pudgy flesh once, lolled his tongue over the aggravation to soothe the sting, and pulled back to shed his layers. You hiked your dress around your waist, too busy ogling Steve’s bare abdomen and the thatch of hair at the base of his pelvis, all exposed with every article freed from his body, to bother discarding your own. You weren’t sure you could last much longer.

And as his cock sprung free, fisted with his ringed hand in all its pinken, glistening glory, you became embarrassingly needy—mewling, reaching out and pulling, scraping with your nails, pouting out your lip and welling up with tears.

“Aw, cryin’ again, sweetheart?” Steve cooed, rubbing his thumb through the slick on the head of his cock to smear it as he pulled your thighs over the top of his. “Don’t worry, baby, you won’t be waiting long.”

Trembling with anticipation, you shifted and tilted your hips in an attempt to gain friction and release your aching torment. Steve snickered, pushing his hand down firmly against your hip to pin you to the bed. You huffed through your nose, pout deepening. Steve’s eyes flickered up toward your displeasure, and he felt himself softening.

“God, look at you—alright, sweetheart, a little wider. Little wider—there you go, fuck,” Steve rambled, pushing your thighs as far as they could go to make room for his body.

Sweeping his cock through your slickness, he made gentle, delicate massaging glides against your sensitive, throbbing clit before sinking in. The stretch burned and stung, and you pinched your eyes closed with a gasp. But when he sank in to the hilt, settled in deep and snug, the burn fizzled away to a feeling so full that you could only whimper and writhe.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice was soft, a low whisper that tickled over your face.

Peeking them open, you found his face above yours, graced with a handsome smile that softened him like light. Trembling, your fingers approached his face, running down the dampness of his cheek and through the front of his hair. He kissed your wrist as it passed his mouth. His thumb pressed against the underside of your jaw, shifting you a little to the left until you felt the plumpness of a pillow beneath your neck.

“There,” he mumbled, swooping to kiss your head. “Comfy?”

As though satiated just by the fullness of his cock lodged inside you, you breezed with a dreamy sigh and nodded. “Very.”

Steve’s lip twitched into another grin. “Good.”

Running your palm over his bare bicep, freckled with mocha spots and slick with exertion, you hummed. “Steve?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be gentle. Need you bad.”

A snorted chuckle rumpled from Steve’s throat, and he lifted another hand to cup his palm over the crown of your head. “That so? You need it a lil’ rough, pretty girl?”

Bobbing your head fervently, eyes rounding with delight: “Yeah—yes, please.”

Eyes scanning the surface of your flushed face, Steve took on a look of exasperated hesitation, wrinkling in his brow. "Ooh, I don't know—"

"Please," you yelped, hands tugging at his shoulders.

Steve chuckled, pretending to be moved by your ministrations, falling a little closer to your mouth where he pressed a kiss. "If you insist, honey."

The start to his thrusts were slow. Deep and languid, full of sweeping hips and firm arms. And just as you were about to protest, face screwing up with impatience, Steve located a ferocity that had you wailing. Barreling into you, fingers scrunching in your hair to pull by the root and yank aside, bearing your throat and calling to his teeth. They scraped over and sank into the flesh, bursting blood vessels and burning with vivacity. The bed frame clattered into the wall with a thumping melody, and every thrust inched you a little closer to the headboard.

You reached up to find footing, bracing yourself with two hands around the wooden bars of the headboard. Steve slid his hand from your hair to your neck, fingers pressing gently into the column of your throat. Not squeezing, just holding.

"Kiss me," you rasped, feeling the spark of an approaching climax gather in your nerves, rising to the surface.

Steve's mouth moved to yours like a magnet, latching with full lip and licks of tongue. His thumb pressed gently into your chin, tipping your head up. He followed every angle of it, never stopping the furious pace of his hips, every one coming with a prod of his cock at somewhere with tremulous, visceral surges. When you began to vibrate so badly you could barely hold tight around his hips, Steve pressed his fingers a little further into your skin. Enough to cut the pressure in your air stream, suppressing it to just the slightest wheeze.

And as you fluttered around him, Steve's arms grew weak, wobbling with need as he clenched every muscle he could to hold back. He wanted to cum with you.

He didn't have to hold off long—your vision bursted to white, streaked with tears pulled by a high-pitched shrill. The guttural, animalistic sound, and pure, heavenly delirium on your face had him spiraling—freeing himself from your tightly-clenched walls to spill over your stomach, coating it with sticky warmth. Nonsensical babbles slipped from your swollen mouth, low grunts and moans from Steve's. His fingers uncurled from your throat, the other leaving your hair to smooth it down on his way toward the other side of the bed.

When breath returned to an even symphony, and the room resumed to faded, thumping stereo music, you rolled onto your side and stared at the naked, glistening boy.

"You owe me a date, Harrington."

Steve chuckled breathily, tugging you into his side with a lazy push against your back. In the crook of his arm, he popped a kiss on your head.

"More like two."

545 notes · View notes

rninies · 3 months

Note

Thinking about pottery making with satoru..

✮ pottery making

౨ৎ gojo satoru x reader. fluff, gn!reader, reader is a pro pottery maker, gojo isn't LOL — wc: 647

notes. ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK this was longer than expected LMFAO

gojo satoru is quite well-known to be good at everything he does, which is relatively true except for one thing — pottery making.

pottery making requires skills satoru does not have. so when you ask him to come join you in a pottery-making class, he hesitantly agrees.

“tell me why we’re here again?” satoru asks you quietly to not disturb the other people in the class. “you know we can just buy our own furniture, right?”

“toru, for the last time, we’re not making furniture! we’re making our own custom mugs we can paint later.” you repeated your explanation for the fifth time. “isn’t it fun? we can customize the mugs we make!” you clapped, excited to start.

satoru tries to complain once again but seeing the smile on your face stops him from doing so. he sighs, mentally cursing himself in his head for being so weak for you (he doesn’t mind, however. he loves spoiling you).

when the teacher arrives you straighten your back, listening to their instructions intently. you nod when you understand what they say, humming in between their words. “alright, let’s get started, shall we? if any of you need help just raise your hand and i’ll be right there!” they sat down in the front of the class, carefully watching everyone’s progress.

“okay! toru, let’s get started,” you exclaim, grabbing the clay and placing it on the machine. “do you have an idea for the design you’re going for?” you dip your hands in water, dropping a few droplets of water onto the clay to make it wet. when you see satoru unmoving, you look at him. “what’s wrong? do you understand what the teacher said before?”

“huh? oh, yeah! of course i understand!” satoru rolls up his sleeves, not wanting them to get dirty. “be prepared to see the best mug ever.”

satoru grabs a chunk of clay before wetting it a bit. you are prepared to see him make the mug so you stopped, watching his moves. instead of satoru making the mug just as he said before, he couldn’t even make the shape of a mug properly. instead, it’s a… tall structure you can’t even name it.

“um, toru?” you poke his shoulder. “a mug isn’t supposed to look like that.” you point at the… thing satoru has made.

“hey, don’t judge a book by its cover! i’m not finished, okay?” satoru huffs, trying to form the clay into a better shape. however, it doesn’t turn out so well, the clay slowly lifting off of the machine as he is trying to form it. so when the clay does fall off the machine, satoru yelps in surprise. “what the- hey! the clay can’t just jump off the machine!”

you started laughing out loud, satoru immediately frowns. “i’m sorry! it’s just- it’s too funny!” you wipe the lone tear that escapes your eye with the sleeves of your shirt. “look, just watch, okay?” satoru sighs, eyes trained on you. he watches your every move, how gently you started forming the clay into a shape of a mug and gently lifting it off of the machine. “tada!”

you proudly show off your masterpiece. satoru bogles it with wide eyes, astonished. “are you insane? how’d you do that on your first try?”

“i just am better at making pottery than you do.” you smugly say, handing your mug to the teacher who compliments your skills. “are you not going to try again?”

“no.” satoru says rather quickly. he stands up and goes to wash his hands. you follow behind him. “are you happy today?”

“yeah! though i really wanted to see you try again.” you giggled. “i can’t believe you couldn’t even form it into a mug!”

“if you say one more thing about that i will paint your mug an ugly color.” satoru threatens lightly, to which you immediately stop talking.

182 notes · View notes

quietblueriver · 8 months

Text

Because I couldn’t get this out of my mind, some Southern Gothic fluff. Very minor spoilers for last night’s ep but this is almost entirely just them being soft witches in love.

Her hair is a tangled mess. It has been since that shitshow with the dead Paragon’s Call fuckers, but she’s had other things to worry about—ghost pirates and FCG and parleys and, if she’s honest, her girlfriend’s tits, which had caused her brain to stop in its tracks at least half a dozen times since Laudna had declared that she was “bringing out the girls” to help their cause.

Now, though, after an hour-long game of rollies she escaped only because Fearne flirted her way into the bony lap of her opponent, she’s staring at the results of Laudna’s attempt at braiding.

Her reflection winces back at her as she tries to untangle what she can with her fingers, turning her head side to side to take stock of the damage. She’s gonna need a comb.

“Shit. Fuck. Fuck it.”

“Alright, darling?”

Imogen looks up from where she has been wrestling with a knot to find Laudna in the doorway, crooked, concerned smile on her face as she hefts a small stack of blankets that they must have managed to scrounge up between the ship and their stock in the hole. Her top is still arranged for ghostly seduction, and Imogen lets her eyes wander appreciatively. Again.

She finds suddenly that she could give a shit about the comb stuck in her hair and pulls it, and a chunk of purple she doesn’t let herself think too hard about out (she’s been bald for fuck’s sake; what’s a little hair loss for love?), tossing them onto the small barrel by the mirror.

Three steps and she’s taking the blankets and cupping Laudna’s sharp jaw, kissing her softly in greeting. Laudna’s little sigh, the small, surprised noise she makes almost every time they do this, makes Imogen’s stomach flip as it always does, and she leans into the kiss, deepens it and then pulls away, drawing a whine.

“Hey there.” She lifts the pile of blankets. “Looks like y’all found some.”

“Yes.” Laudna clears her throat, face that deeper shade of purple Imogen tries to bring out as often as she can, and Imogen smirks, smug as can be, until Laudna rolls her eyes at her. “Oh, hush.”

“Don’t know what you mean, Laud. I didn’t say a word.”

“Your face said plenty, thank you.”

Imogen grins and kisses her again before turning to toss the blankets onto the bed.

“Can’t say I’m sorry ‘bout it.” She turns back and lets her eyes trail purposefully down Laudna’s neck, stopping at her chest and staying there. “It’s been real hard to focus today. Nice knowin’ I can fluster you a little, too.”

Laudna laughs disbelievingly, and Imogen raises an eyebrow.

“You sayin’ you wouldn’t have trouble focusin’ if I…” She undoes a button and Laudna’s dark eyes focus in on her fingers. “What did you call it? Bring out the girls?”

Her eyes are still pinned to Imogen’s hands, and she undoes another button, because she likes it when Laudna looks at her like this, wants Laudna to look at her like this, and there’s no reason now to pretend she doesn’t.

She offers a gloating, teasing, “Laud?”

Black eyes snap up, and she smirks again when Laudna pouts at her even as she flushes that pretty color. “Yes, well. There’s a bit more there to admire, dear, isn’t there?”

She’s working on this. On Laudna moving beyond a blustering veneer of self-confidence and learning to see herself at least a little bit like Imogen sees her. It’s not exactly a hardship, letting Laudna know how beautiful she is. The chiding voice inside her head had already shifted over the months before the market in Jrusar, moving from “she’s your best friend, Imogen” to “don’t ruin this, Imogen” to “it’s not the time, Imogen.” (She doesn’t think about the days when the voice had been nothing but a raging, screaming thing. She’d answered its call. She’d gotten her back.) Now, the voice says only, “Show her.”

So she does. She’s back in Laudna’s space quickly, hands gentle but sure as they make a home on her waist, and she catches her eye seriously, holds it.

“No, baby, I don’t think there is.” When Laudna’s smile wobbles into place, the quirk of her lips small but genuine, Imogen flexes her fingers and presses her own lips to the skin of Laudna’s neck, letting her tongue tease skin as she says, “Wanna show you how much I admire you later, if you want.” She pulls back with a graze of her teeth, and Laudna brings her hands around Imogen’s shoulders and kisses her with purpose, mumbling, “Yes, please,” as she winds her hands up into Imogen’s hair.

It’s then that she remembers the state of it, hissing as Laudna’s fingers get caught in a tangle. They’re gone instantly, as is the heat of the moment, Laudna’s cool palms cupping her cheeks as she apologizes and checks for injury, eyes roaming over Imogen’s scalp.

“I’m sorry, darling. Are you…” Fingers move back to her hair then, gently exploring, and Laudna bites her lip. “Oh dear. It’s my fault.”

Imogen doesn’t shake her head, doesn’t want to dislodge the hand still on her cheek, but she says, dismissive, “Nah. Just a long day. Quick comb and I’ll be right as rain.”

The purse of her lips tells Imogen exactly what she thinks of that explanation.

“It really is no big deal.” She turns her head to kiss gray skin, the smallest tang of ichor on her lips as she licks them distractedly and fights the urge to go back for more.

“Can I…would you mind if I…” Gentle black nails trace the skin of her temple as she tucks a lock of hair, blessedly free of knots, behind her ear. “Would you like help brushing it out?” She adds hastily, before Imogen even has a chance to breathe out her obvious and immediate yes. “I understand if not. After all, it is my fault it’s like this in the first place.” Her mouth is pulled tight at the corners, eyes squinted in worry, and Imogen places a kiss at the corner of one, stretched onto her toes to reach.

“Thanks. That would be great.”

Laudna is, of course, gentler than Imogen would ever be with herself. She produces some herbs from somewhere, busying herself at the basin before she returns. They’re far enough away from the others that she doesn’t think much before she takes off the circlet, sitting it gently on the table near the bed and sighing into the sound of Laudna’s thoughts, the musical hum of them.

“I could work around it, darling.”

It’s nice, hearing you. If you don’t mind.

Laudna’s smile reaches across her face, delighted, and Imogen feels it, stomach flipping at the surge of affection. I love having you here. Stay as long as you’d like.

She kisses her then, chaste with the barrier of their smiles, before situating herself on the floor. As it turns out, it’s too fucking cold, so Imogen reclines, propped between Laudna’s knees on the bed, which is much better anyway. The angle is a little awkward but they mess around with a few pillows and blankets until it works, and then Laudna’s hands are in her hair, gently working whatever she made through tangles.

“Smells good.”

Laudna hums, pleased. “Rosemary.”

“Mmm.”

She gets lost for a bit, in the feel of Laudna’s fingers on her scalp, the rhythm of the brush, the lilt of her thoughts. She lets them wash over her, beautiful but fleeting, and avoids processing details as much as she can.

Laudna is so gentle with Imogen, whispered apologies with every knot, occasional internal rebukes loud enough to break through the general flow of her thoughts. Imogen soothes those as best she can, stopping the brush to plant a kiss on Laudna’s wrist, a none of that, darlin’ paired with the press of her lips. It seems to work, mostly, thoughts of gratitude that Imogen doesn’t deserve but doesn’t challenge for the moment replacing the self-criticism.

Imogen wonders, not for the first time, what Laudna’s life would’ve been like if she’d been given all the love she deserved right from the start. She thinks of a little girl who never learned to braid, lonely and strange and kinder than anyone deserved. Beautiful and familiar.

Imogen can’t help her, but she can love Laudna. She will love Laudna.

“You know,” she says, eyes closed and as casually as she can, “I could teach you how to braid. If you’re interested.”

The rhythm of the brush stops just for a moment before it continues, Laudna’s voice, small, answering, “I think I’d like that. Thank you.”

She reaches back for a hand, kisses knuckles and fingertips until Laudna is giggling and then she presses her mouth to palm, to deep purple veins on a fragile and perfect inner wrist.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” she says as she tilts her head back to catch deep black eyes. “I think you’ll look real pretty with a braid.”

Laudna blushes, catches Imogen’s fingers and brings them to her own mouth, drops a cool kiss to the back of her hand. Imogen closes her eyes again as Laudna resumes brushing and relaxes into the bed beneath her.

#critical role #imodna #imodna fic #imogen temult #laudna #southern gothic

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atxxokirina · 9 months

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Request: Being ronals girlfriend but neytiri having a dark obsession over reader.

Mommies Girl (18+, MDNI)

✮ Neytiri x Fem Reader ✮

contains: cheating, scissoring/tribbing, fingering, yandere neytiri, fdom neytiri, mommy kink, mention of mvrder, slight choking, pls lmk if i missed anything.

na'vi dictionary - yawntutsyìp = darling, loved one (yawn tut syip)

˙⁠ ❥⁠˙

Ever since you became Ronal's girlfriend, you felt eyes everywhere. Of course that was to be expected with you dating the Tsahík, but lately, you'd been sensing an extra pair burning a hole through you. Not to mention you've gained a.. stalker? More like a secret admirer. You would tend to find small gifts placed in your hut. Necklaces, bracelets that consisted of your favorite colors, and even handmade tops.

But the most odd "gift" you received from this person was their strands of hair.

No, not just a strand, an entire chunk of it.

And each time you'd look around to figure out who, or what it was, the feeling disappeared. "Yawntutsyìp, is everything alright?" Ronal snaps you from your thoughts, rubbing a soft hand on your back. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry." You flash a pained smile as she nodded, going back to eating. You sat in the common square, surrounded by the village as they all ate their supper. As Ronal conversed with those around her, you poked around at your food, appetite completely lost.

Unknown to you, your ex girlfriend was the one who's been creeping on you. She found amusement in this, knowing that you're indirectly looking for her. Your relationship together may have been over, but her undying love for you surely wasn't. She sometimes thought about killing Ronal, imagining how she'd execute it, and how you would come running back to her after. As she stares at you from behind, a she feels the urge to do exactly what she's been wishing for since you'd gotten with Ronal. Easy access. All she had to do was stick her blade into her spine and—

Stop. Getting too carried away.

Neytiri reaches for the small note she wrote for you, standing from her seat, "accidently" dropping it in your lap, walking away. You felt a thin leaf land into your lap. Your brows furrow in confusion, checking your sides to see who could have dropped it. You unfold the light emerald colored leaf, reading something written in black ink.

Ultxa si piak säpi pum txal pxiut.

Meet by the back palm tree.

"Hm." You quietly hum, still eyeing the note. "I'll be back soon." You tell your girlfriend, but doubt she heard you. Sighing, you stood up. Making your way to the desolate bunch of palm trees. The sky was dark and the saplings stood tall. You'd be terrified to be here alone if you didn't know any better. "Um, hello? Is someone here?" You call out. After a few moments when no one answers, you grew impatient. Just as you huff and begin leave the area, you feel a rough tug on your hair. "Ow! What the-" You yelped, pulling back from the source and turning your body. Your eyebrows furrow at what you see, body hot. "Neytiri..?" You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Your tone becomes aggressive and cold.

A shit faced smirk forms on Neytiri's face. "The fuck is so funny?" You scoff, face dropping in disbelief. She softly frowns, stepping closer to you and cupping your cheek in her palms. "Hi, baby.." She sighs, tracing her finger down your body. "Oh, I missed you so much." You looked up at her, eyes filled with daze. "H-Have you been, stalking me?" You ask quietly, swallowing back a gulp.

"I wouldn't call it stalking. Just.. random acts of love, hm?" She cocks her head toward you, now running her fingers through your hair, which turns into her pulling your head to her face, crashing her lips into yours. She wastes no time as her tongue slithered it's way into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden kiss, eyes widening as you're pulled into her. As your mouths meet, a wave of shock and arousal washes over you. This is wrong. Fuck, so wrong.

You weakly attempt to push Neytiri away, feeling her smirk against your lips as her arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer. The heat rises in your bodies as the two of you moan into the kiss. She walks you back into a tree, breaking the kiss and pushing you down onto the soft moss beneath you. You lay back on your elbows, wiping your mouth from her saliva. She gazes down at you, untying her top and, dropping to your level. She spits on your tummy, sliding her tongue upward, stopping in between your breasts. A small part of you felt hesitant to go through with this, yet you were still having trouble controlling the desire you had for her, considering your past together.

"Neytiri, we shouldn't-" You say with a whimper as she brings a hand up to your tits, circling a finger around your nipples and snaking her tongue upward. Squeezing your eyes shut, you held back a moan, but not for long. The second she began grinding her clothed pussy against yours, you lost control. Bucking your hips up as you pull her closer to you. "There's my dirty girl," She hums, now opening your wet folds and toying with your clit. Neytiri reaches behind her, unraveling the loincloth from around her excited tail and pulling it down. She gives your cunt one last touch, licking your slickness off of her fingers as she sat up. She glances down at your middle, "Take this off for mommy, hm?" Without hesitation, you're sliding the flimsly loincloth down. She smiles, licking her fangs and parting your thighs open, climbing on top of you.

You let out a jagged moan as your clits meet with each other. "Oh fuck.." Your lower muscles contract. "Did you miss me?" She whispers in your ear teasingly, grinding herself on your cunt leans down, pinning your wrists back. "Hm? Tell me baby. Tell me how much you've missed me." She lets out a soft, guttural moan. You mewled, eyes shifting down to where your two bodies meet, the sensation of your juices mixing together causing the woods to fill with low, wet sounds, along with your moans syncing together. "Say it." She snaps her hips, slowing down before coming to a halt. "Say it, or else I'll stop."

You frantically nod. "Y-Yes, yes I missed you.. fuck, please don't stop." You cry out in a low whine. Voice almost filled with shame. You wanted to feel terrible about cheating on Ronal, but you just couldn't. Not right now.

Neytiri inches her face to yours, leaving soft, wet kisses around your glowing freckles. "Gooood girl.." Before going back to humping your cunt, she finds your breasts, scissoring the nub with both of her fingers. You back arches at the matching pleasure, clit growing sensitive as well as your nipples. The sensation of your juices mixing only made you crave more of her. You loved the way she settled and bounced on you. Each rub sent a jolt of electricity throughout your body. "I missed you s-so much mommy," You moan again, forcing your eyes open as you grind your clit along hers.

"Yeah, I know you did." She wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing your airways before slamming you down. "And you know why you missed me?" She began to lick stripes up your neck, leaving marks that will definitely be visible later. "Because you're a slut. You're a fucking slut, yeah? Tell mommy how much you couldn't resist her." You could feel her pussy growing needier, as was yours. Your heart rate increasing. So, so, close to cumming. "I-I wanna cum mommy! Please, please let me cum," you whimper. "No. You're not cumming until you tell me what I wanna hear." She teased, leaning down to your ear, fucking you faster as her moans fill up your lobe. "Tell me you love me." She simply whispers, earning a strained moan from you. "No.. I love Ronal, I can't-" She pushes you down again, lowly growling. "You love her, huh? But you're letting me fuck you? That's some love." She snarles. The pressure was building inside of you. Any word you said came out as incoherent babbles and pleads. "So pathetic.. look at you coming undone for me. Bet that bitch couldn't do this to you, huh?"

"I'm gonna cum soon, and you're gonna do exactly what I said, aren't you?" Neytiri's clit against yours is now slowing down, a more sensual, needy pace. "Yes mommy.." You breathe out, tears rolling down your cheeks from the edging. "I love you, I love you so fucking much.. please, I wanna- I wanna cum so bad!" You whimper, attempting to speed her hips, but to no avail. "Mmmmm, that's mommy girl." She smirks in satisfaction, bouncing against your clit to get you there again.

You're close. So close. Just need one more push, one more thrust. "Cum. Cum for me now." You wasted no time. The tightening coil in your stomach began to unravel, a feeling of bliss that only she could get you to. The two of you moaning in unison is sweet music to your ears. You let out a loud, and long moan, limbs shaking and toes curling. As your high came down, the two of you pant. She crawls off of you, leaving another kiss on your nose. "You know you'll always be mommy's favorite girl, won't you?" You flutter your eyes open, weakly nodding with a whine. "Yes.." You say below a breath. "Mm, I know you will. And I'll always be better than the next one." She stands from her position, finding her loincloth and slipping it back on. "Think of me whenever you fuck your girlfriend, or the next time you try tell her you love her."

taglist: @pandorxxx @sweethoneycn @neytirishottie @sullybrosimp @tsireyafavgirl @teyamsbitch @encephalitis-on-sundays @sassypain @neon-groves @rosyjn

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twinksrepository · 1 month

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A protective kiss

Rating: PG

Pairing: Dante X F!Reader

CW: Nightmare, threats

Word count: .5 K roughly

A/N: You have a nightmare, good thing Dante is right there to provide comfort.

Your feet pound against the rough strew ground, dodging around chunks of brick and metal that have fallen in the deserted street as your heart beats against the inside of your ribs with enough force to be painful.

Panting as you look over your shoulder to see a hoard of demons hot on your heels, only to trip and scream as the ground swallows you whole before the scene is replaced with an overgrown courtyard.

Looking around in confusion at the change while your heart keeps hammering in your chest and a sense of dread slowly overtakes your mind. Blinking as a vine moves closer to you, almost as if it's a snake moving through the grass. Flicking and twisting right in front of you as the bud at the end opens in a brilliant splash of red and orange colors, only for it to emit a head spliting wail that has your hands flying to cover your ears as you try to scramble away.

Only to turn and watch as what looks like a bird with several mouths flies at you with its beaks all pointed in your direction as if planning to run you through. “Abomination!” An eerie screaming echoes around a space that reminds you of the roman coliseum as the bird monster flies closer. “You don't deserve to live!” More screams of abomination from around you as you realize you're about to be impaled by the thing.

Only to sit up screaming in bed with tears running down your face and sweat running along your body. Looking around in panic as you don't immediately recognize where you are.

“Babe!” Flinching at the hand landing on your shoulder before the relief floods through your system at the familiar voice and visage. Dante’s face is painted with a look of concern as his hand rubs along your back, turning to drop your body against his and starting to sob in his arms. “You're alright, you're alright.” Whispering against your hair.

“Goddamn.” Sobbing with mucus trailing down your face as you focus on trying to breathe and getting your heart to slow down aware of the fluid starting to drip onto his chest.

“Just some bad dreams.” Smoothing his wide palms along your back as Dante adjusts you pulling you more against his body. He’s more concerned with comforting you then about any kind of mess you’re making.

“It was worse than that. it felt like I was gonna die because of some monster.” Sobbing harder against him with your eyes squeezed shut as more tears fall along your cheeks.

“Hey now.” A hint of mocking in his tone as one of his hands cups your jaw and forces you to look upwards. “When it comes to monsters you've got your very own handsome devil hunter to keep you safe.” Brushing his lips against your forehead before planting a kiss on your temple. “I'll protect you, Babe.”

“Even when my face is covered in snot?” Your voice cracks as you ask it like a small child instead of the adult you are.

“Even then.” Chuckling at you as you try to wipe your face a little more, it will be a while before you can fall asleep again but the reassurance is nice.

#dante #dante devil may cry #dante sparda #dante x reader #dante x you #devil may cry #dmc 4 #dmc5 #x reader #twink writes

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bapzap · 8 months

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ALRIGHT AUTISM POWERS GO LET'S COLLECT WHAT'S UP WITH THE SIDE ORDER INFO WE JUST GOT

first things first

there is an almost explicit image being made of oil here, the fish are skeletons and they ooze black goo that looks like oil spills and the goo spews out like oil geysers. the skybox looks like an ocean polluted and murky with gasoline

it's electronic? this might not be real life and the real plaza but it definitely seems like its *real*, you get me?

dedf1sh is here <3

there's chunks of bodies... or mem-cakes? being carted around. this is notably NOT in 'real life', so either the electronic stuff is just technology or they're doing stuff in this weird techno-cyber world

5. i can't put it together rn but i swear those walls, while looking like code, also look like the like... those stones people made to teach post-nuclear societies what we knew and what mistakes not to make again? does anyone know what im talking about? am i insane? those are real right?

6. pearl is here with us as a robot, replacing lil buddy

7. We're finally getting lore on how we change ink? Or we're dealing with Agent 8 losing the color of her ink. Speaking of Agent 8--

8. WE HAVE CONFIRMATION IT'S AGENT 8

#splatoon #side order

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votederpycausemufins · 9 months

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And here's my Evil X gemcyt design sheet thing. I already posted the Xisuma one, so check that one out too.

the whole gemcyt au got kicked off by @chrisrin so make sure to check out their stuff and all the stuff they reblogged if you haven't already.

Another version of the sheet above but with more notes on and for it is below the cut.

Alright! I had a lot of fun figuring Evil X out, probably bc of him being one of my blorbos.

Evil X has a lot of 'theories' surrounding what he is and I've seen some variations. He and X are siblings, they're X's clone, he's a glitched version of X, they're X's hels. etc etc. And so trying to figure out what to do for him.

While I already borrowed sweetest-honeybee's design in the second part of my Zed/WM gemcyt post, I didn't want to do like that and make him corrupted. I know the gemcyt stuff seems to play with corruption a little looser, but it still didn't feel right. So, I went researching and found a fun lil mix that seems to fit well.

First off, the closest thing you can get to a glitch in terms of gems is being off-color. I mean technically you glitch when you're cracked, but we're not doing that. Anyway, off-color gem Evil X, which is why there's the gem comparison. Next, the clone/hels part. I don't mention it on the sheet, but specifically, I think of this Evil X as a sort of gem experiment. No wait wait don't leave let me explain!

We saw that there were gem experiments of some type on the show. They were more fusion experiments using shards, and were experiments for the cluster (which technically don't work since they only emerged slightly before the cluster so there was no telling if they worked and if then the cluster would work). Also on the show, we're told that there's a resource problem on Homeworld which results in 'Era 2' gems like Peridot, who don't have all the abilities a normal gem would have. Also also in the show, when Steven and Lars are with the off colors on Homeworld, we see the kindergartens there. And while there are normal holes, there are also holes that overlap, as well as holes that look like there's been a chunk scooped out of them.

The analogy I could think of was like when you're making cookies. you roll out the dough, get a cookie cutter, and get all the cookies, but assuming you weren't using a square cutter, there's extra dough left between the cuts. Instead of just leaving it, usually you reroll it to cut out more cookies. Well, why can't Homeworld try the same?

Evil X is meant to be an experiment on if Homeworld can successfully do that. They scooped out extra rock from a kindergarten or two, compressed it into a new boulder, then used an injector on it. Eventually after a long while, out came Evil X. And that whole thing also leans into the clone thing because I imagine some of the scooped rock was from part of where Xisuma emerged.

Anyway, with all that, I originally thought about making Evil X look similar to Amethyst's pseudo buff reformation, but trying to draw that was a mess. I meant to go back and make him look a little more lopsided, but you'll have to just imagine that. Whoops. At the very least he has the funky stripes. I imagine that's probably from where the different rock pieces met or something, and since it wasn't as solid as regular rock, he was like that.

Coloring him was tough, but eventually I just copied Xisuma over, inverted his colors, and then shifted the hue to be more red. I considered making the green parts more black, but it didn't fit, so they're just more purpley to show that Xisuma connection or smthn.

Speaking of his gem, I show what I picture a normal Cuprite to look like. Meanwhile Evil X's is a bit misshapen, as well as that darker area that mimics the one reference I had. specifically that darker bit is chrysocolla, but he's still just cuprite.

Instead of a mask, he's just got a visor similar to what we've seen with Peridot and Doc and technically those zircons. And also instead of a mask he has those... blade things. Look, the best name i could find for them were blade gauntlets, but they look more like sword brass knuckles to me so I don't know. Also yes they are based on a weapon a digimon had, what of it?

And then, he is hella amethyst coded. Popped out of his rock thing in a chamber under the kindergarten (similar to the other experiments in the show) with no one around. He was an experiment and uses rock from different gems and is off color, so he doesn't know what he's for. Doesn't even know what diamond he should belong to, so that's why he's got a grey one on his chest. And there's a lot of little things and ideas for him that are inspired by Amethyst's characterization on the show, to the point I was planning a screenshot redraw even before I had his and Xisuma's designs even close to finalized.

I also have a fic I'm working on with him and Gemsuma, as well as that quick Jevin design plus a few teeny tiny references to other people's gem designs. If my adhd allows it, i should post that 1 shot fic tomorrow.

#gemcyt #evil xisuma #hermitcraft au #steven universe au #my art

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xspeter · 1 month

Note

hey kat <3

could i request a Steve Harrington hurt comfort or angst where r and Steve and the others make it out of the upside down(s4), but r is injured and she doesn't realise it until they actually get back to hawkins.

the adrenaline's just masking any pain they're all feeling, but when they climb through the gate at eddies trailer and reader falls on the mattress, she winces. Steve asks her about it when they finally get to his house, after it's all over and done with.

you can totally ignore this if it's not your cup of tea. but thanks anyways love<3

✩ I hope this is alright, i wrote it as soon as i woke up 👩‍💻. didn’t proofread it so im really sorry for any mistakes !! thanks for the ask <3

Steve’s hurt. It’s the only thing your mind can focus on beneath skull mountain. Steve’s hurt and you weren’t there to protect him.

The bats had held onto him as if he was the best thing they’d ever tasted, and even with your pushing and pulling, it took way longer to get them off of him then you would’ve liked. Your mind couldn’t even focus on your own injuries, particularly the large gash on your thigh from the bats claws, but instead on Steve’s face constructed in pain.

“I’m sorry,” You breathed, wrapping your shirt scrap onto his gaping wound. His normally tan skin was paled, brown eyes dilated slightly.

You watched as the shirt began to seep into a light pink color and tightened it more to stop the blood flow, and Steve hissed as you did. You froze at the noise, mind running with different outcomes and worries.

“Hey, hey,” Steve reassured, back sliding down the rock so he could be eye-level with you. He winced as he did. “I’m okay.” He spoke softly, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek. “We’re all okay.”

You gazed around at all your friends, Robin and Eddie are nursing each others wounds, while Nancy takes care of her own. You’d always admired the girl for her resilience and independence.

To be honest, sometimes you almost felt jealous of the girl. Steve had been in love with her for so long before he finally started to fall for you last summer at Starcourt, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel like those feelings they had for each other never fully went away.

You sucked in a breath, “I know. It’s just.. what if-”

“Don’t think about the what ifs,” He spoke, pink lips slightly glossy, “We’re here now, and we’re okay. Alright?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on your breathing. Sometimes, it was still hard for you to comprehend that this was your life now. After the disaster at Starcourt and you’d been exposed to this entire situation, sometimes you still just couldn’t believe how many times these people had put their lives on the line.

“You promise you’re okay?” You asked solemnly, shoulders slightly slumped. Steve just grinned and rubbed your arm gently, “I promise,” He eyed your figure, “Are you okay?”

You nearly scoffed. Steve had chunks of flesh missing from his stomach and he was asking if you were okay? “I’m fine, Steve.”

He squinted his eyes at you suspiciously, “Are you sure? We’ll take care of it if you are. Don’t be a hero.”

“I’m not being a hero. I’m just not hurt.”

Steve, being so exhausted and delirious from the blood loss foolishly believed you. He kissed the side of your head softly and followed you as you followed Nancy to the Wheeler residence.

His first sign should’ve been when you nearly stumbled down the stairs. He’d been there to catch you, eyebrows knitted as he helped you steady. “What happened?” He asked.

You let out an awkward chuckle, going a bit pink at everyone’s concerned gazes. “I’m fine,” You spoke softly, “Just lost my balance.”

Nancy hummed, but she didn’t look convinced. Once everyone left the room to figure out what the hell Steve was yelling about, she pulled you aside. “You’ve been quiet ever since Skull Rock. Did you get hurt?”

You swallowed. The adrenaline rush you had felt was slowly waning away, leaving you to feel every bit of the long gash on your thigh. “I’m fine.” You spoke, thankful that your black leggings hid the dark red substance slowly leaking from you, “Just exhausted.”

Nancy still didn’t look convinced, her eyes glimmering slightly as she sucked in her bottom lip, “If something’s wrong we can figure out a way to help you, okay?” She took a breath, her eyes downcast. “If.. if you’re hurt and- and god forbid something were to happen to you Steve would never forgive himself. You can’t do that to him.”

You knew she was right, Steve didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to lose someone else after everything he’s suffered, but you firmly believed you’d be okay. If anything, you’d just need a few stitches and then everything would be okay. Which is why you say, “I’m fine. Promise.”

❣︎

You were more than just relived when you made it to Eddies trailer. You were practically ecstatic. You were ready to get out of this hellhole and finally take care of your wound.

But, you should’ve known that nothing would be okay, not after Nancy’s vision. You and Steve watched as she fell over, the both of you attempting to shake her awake while everyone else rushed to find a song.

But, Nancy wouldn’t need it, and instead would wake on her own with a message from Vecna.

Steve let Nancy go first, her body hitting the mattress softly. Robin helped her up, offering her hand which Nancy gratefully took.

Next, it was your turn. Steve helped you down, his cold hand on your lower back gently dropping you down.

But, unlike everyone else, you couldn’t get up from the mattress. The fall winded you, and the pain on your leg increased tenfold. You let a quiet whine when you tried to stand on it, immediate tears springing to your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Steve called down in a panic stricken voice.

“I’m- I’m fine.” You replied hoarsely, attempting again to stand and being unable to.

Eddie gazed down to where a large pool of blood was beggining to form on the mattress beneath your leg,band his face immediately paled.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He chanted, “You gotta get down here, man!” He called. Eddie graciously slipped his ringed fingers under your back and knees, carrying you away from the mattress and towards the couch.

You barely heard Steve’s body hit the bed as he jumped down, but you felt his presence as soon as Eddie set you down. “Shit, how long has- why didn’t you-”

You could feel Steve’s panic, and it made you want to scream. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be okay, and everything would’ve been fine.

But even now you can feel the unnerving exhaustion the blood loss is making you feel, and you know that’s not going to happen.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke softly, eyes glassy with tears as you began to accept your fate.

Steve was yelling for them to get help, his own eyes wet and wide.

He attempted to put pressure on the wound, and at this point you couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He chanted, voice wobbly.

“I��m sorry,” You swallowed, “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I told you not to be a hero!” He cried, “You- you said you were okay.”

“I know,” You shushed softly, “You’ll be okay.”

Steve froze for a moment, letting your words process. You didn’t say I’ll be okay, you said He’d be okay. While the change was slight, he understood what it meant.

“You’ll be okay too,” He attempted, voice weak. “We’re gonna be okay, and we’re gonna get that apartment in Indianapolis that we talked about, okay? We’re gonna move outta Hawkins like we said we would.”

You smiled softly at the memory, remembering all the sweet nights where you laid naked in his bed, drawing soft patterns on his back. You’d talk for hours about your futures. About marriage and kids and growing old together.

You just wish you could’ve seen it happen.

“Can you remind me?” You asked softly, eyelids heavy. “About our life after we get married?”

Steve let out a quiet sob. He’d stopped his attempts at putting pressure on your leg, he knew it was too late. There wasn’t anything he could do.

“We’re gonna-” He sniffled, hand reaching for your own and squeezing it tightly. “We’re gonna get married in the forest, just behind Hoppers house with the Gazebo. And we’re gonna move into a beautiful apartment in the city, with green shudders and- and-” He paused momentarily, a tear slipping down his cheek.

You squeezed his hand softly, encouraging him to keep going. He took a breath, glassy eyes staring at your paling face. “We’ll have three kids. Two boys and a girl, and they’ll have a cat named Penny. They’re gonna- gonna get older and they’ll all go off the college, and we’ll have so much space we won’t know what to do with ourselves.” He chuckled softly, “We’ll spend every day with each other. Doing all that sappy, old people stuff. And- and we’ll grow old together and we’re gonna live happy, okay? I just- you just gotta-”

He allowed himself to risk a glance at your face, and he wished he hadn’t. Your eyes were closed, a soft smile tugging on your pale lips, and he knew what it meant.

You were gone. Just like that.

And even as the police arrived and Eddie attempted whatever story he could put together onto why you all looked so.. well, roughed up, Steve couldn’t even listen.

All he could focus on was your body slowly being zipped away.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #angst #hurt no comfort #joe keery #joe keery x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #the upside down #character death #kat thinks 🙋‍♀️#xspeter

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missmyluv · 10 months

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bonnet stealer (｀_´)ゞ

💐 : synopsis | miles steals ur bonnet n think shit sweet .

warnings | cursing !!

your face twists in all typa ways when your silk purple bonnet isn’t in the bathroom— hence the last place you left it. you checked inside of the shower and underneath the sink, still no show of your precious bonnet.

you sigh, stress painting itself on your body as you walk inside of your bedroom looking on the top of your desk, slamming the drawers shut as to see it not being there either. you were already tired n this shit wasn’t helping either.

checking underneath the covers of your bed and the nightstand you groaned in frustration laying down on your comfy bed, the only place you could think of checking was your boyfriend’s house.

you grabbed your phone from the stand searching for his contact and face-timing him.

you migrated from your bedroom to the bathroom to finish your self care routine. it dialed for a few seconds before you were met with the ceiling, you rolled your eyes and set your phone up on the stand in your bathroom for times like this.

“where’s my boy at?” you asked, wetting your face then applying night cream

“hollup mami.” you can hear him light smacking on the other line with sounds of scraping of a plate. your piercing stress wells down a little when he spoke, a clear small smile rises with a laugh. you wait for him, moving to your room and setting up your phone to apply cocoa butter on your body.

the phone shifts onto his pillow, seeing his full face. you weren’t looking at him- but when you did irritation took over your features.

“i know damn well that ain’t my bonnet, miles.” your arms were crossed under your chest as you stare blankly at the screen, his bonnet was in fact on his newly braided hair. he chuckles at you and eats another chunk of his food.

“this shit comfy as fuck too.” he teases, laughing again at your expression. “ain’t shit funny!” you grab your phone and slip on your crocs, putting on your (his) jacket walking out of the house to his.

“we fightin’ when i get there.” you flash your middle finger at him and continue walking. “alright ma, see you there.” he laughs, making kissy noises on the phone and hanging up.

you made it to his house and unlock the door with a key mama rio gave you, taking your shoes off at the door and barging into his room with him already standing in front of the door with a smirk on his face.

he looks you up and down, tugging at the jacket. “n’ you got my jacket on. guess we even, huh?”

“no we not! you gave me this, i ain’t give you my bonnet.” you step forward to reach onto his head and grab it, but he takes a step backwards. “nigga go buy your own shiiittt.” you said, irritated. he was fully capable of buying his own shit and he steals yours??

he grabs your forearm picking you up and throwing you on his bed, taking your bonnet off and tossing it to you. you roll eyes and mutter a ‘finally.’ putting it over your almost-ruined hair.

“you happy now, hermosa?” he lays on your chest with the same color bonnet on his head. “what’s the point of stealin’ my bonnet if you got your own?” you questioned, flicking his forehead.

“i jus’ wanted you to come over.”

#atsv.💐#miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x you #atsv #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 9 months

Note

just saw your reminder deadline for asks post and i had to put something in! first off i looooove what you’ve been doing with these requests and just with the writing in general

and i would like to humbly request should-you-see-fit, your take on a eddie recovery//eddie chronic pain or other lasting symptoms. i adore everything you do when steve is the one hurting and so i’m wondering what that would look like flipped?

Since this request came in, I have written one where they both have chronic pain and help each other through a bad day, so I did take some inspiration from that for this. So many people comment on the chronic pain ficlets/drabbles saying that it makes them feel so understood and it makes me feel so warm and happy to know that it gives you warm and happy feelings. This was a nice break from the first chapter of demon Steve, so thank you for sending this one in! - Mickala ❤

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Eddie wanted to call Argyle, get the strongest strain of weed he had, and get so high he didn’t even feel human.

The pain he woke up with was almost as bad as when he first woke up in the hospital a few months prior, his bones aching and every breath sending sharp, piercing pains through his entire body.

He was used to dull aches when it rained, or being in a lot of pain when he stood up for too long or walked too far, but waking up like this was new.

Even worse, Steve wasn’t home.

He was already at work, a shift he picked up for Robin because her parents had insisted that she come with them to visit her aunt in Chicago.

Eddie could call him, but then he’d just feel bad about not being here to help.

He sucked it up long enough to call Wayne, who was at work, but no longer needed to be thanks to the government trying to keep them quiet with a large chunk of money.

As he waited for the secretary to get Wayne on the phone, he tried to take deep breaths like the physical therapist showed him. It didn’t work, but he was trying.

“Ed? You alright?” Wayne’s voice held so much concern, and Eddie was in so much pain, he started to tear up.

“It hurts,” he sobbed.

“You need me to call an ambulance, son?”

“No. Just hurts.”

He could hear Wayne say something to someone else, probably the secretary, then his voice was loud and clear in the phone.

“I’m on my way home. You call Steve yet?”

“No, he’s gotta work.”

“You know he’d wanna know anyway.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed. “I just don’t want him to worry.”

“He’ll be mad if ya don’t.”

“I know,” Eddie groaned. “I’ll call.”

“Smart. I’ll be home in 20.”

Eddie listened to the dial tone for a moment before hanging up.

He focused on the poster on the wall in front of him, said every color out loud as a distraction from the pain. He couldn’t call Steve if he was still ready to cry, he’d hear it in his voice and immediately try to come home even though he couldn’t just close the store.

Wayne was right though.

He picked the phone back up off the hook and dialed the number to Family Video.

It only rang twice before Steve’s voice answered.

“Thanks for calling Family Video. I’m currently watching Back to The Future. What do you wanna watch?”

“Back to The Future again? C’mon Stevie. You’re in a store full of movies,” Eddie said, somewhat breathlessly as he tried to breathe and talk through the sudden pulsing pain in his side.

“Eds? What’s wrong?”

“Just woke up in a lot of pain,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I can be home in 10 minutes, baby.”

“No, Stevie, it’s okay,” Eddie started to say, but Steve had already hung up.

“Fuck!” He yelled.

It felt good to do it, not just because of the situation, but because he needed a better outlet for the pain right now.

He closed his eyes and waited.

Steve was home faster than 10 minutes, which he would probably be upset about if Steve didn’t already look like he was panicking.

“Are you bleeding anywhere? Have you called 911? Did you take anything?” Steve’s hands were hovering over him in the bed, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he looked at Eddie’s curled up body.

“No, no, and no. I don’t need a hospital, just pain meds and maybe a bath.”

“But the pain is so bad you’ve been crying. That’s not normal!” Steve finally rested a hand on Eddie’s arm.

“Sweetheart, you’ve seen these scars. You know what the physical therapist said about pain. This is normal. It’s just the first time it’s been this bad,” he tried to calm Steve down, but couldn’t quite level his voice out to be convincing.

Just as Steve was starting on his next round of questions, the front door opened and Wayne called out that he stopped for some extra strength Tylenol.

Wayne came into the room and held the bag out towards Steve.

“I’ll go get a glass of water so you can take ‘em.”

Steve started opening the bottle and took out two pills, glanced at Eddie, then shook out a third.

“Gonna go start a bath, okay? Yell if you need me,” Steve said as he handed him the pills and kissed his forehead.

Eddie nodded.

Wayne brought him water, helped him sit up more so it was easier to take the pills and start working on getting up to go to the bathroom.

He didn’t like Wayne seeing him in pain, but he couldn’t help but let out a small whimper as he got shifted around.

“Alright, let’s get you to the bath.”

Wayne helped him walk, slowly, with a lot of pauses to gather himself and remember to breathe in and out.

Steve was waiting in the bathroom, ready to help him get undressed and slip into the hot bath filled with peppermint and eucalyptus oil.

Eddie tried to smile, give some comfort to the two people who were somehow more stressed about his pain than he was. He knew it probably wasn’t enough to soothe their worry, but Wayne at least gave him a small pat on the back and a smile as he left the room.

Steve wordlessly stripped his shirt and pants off, took his time and made sure to pause when Eddie gasped from moving too quickly.

He helped Eddie into the tub, slowly lowering him down until he was settled in the hot water and closing his eyes at the relief from the heat.

“Need anything?” Steve asked from the floor next to the tub.

Eddie rolled his head along the back of the tub, opening his eyes and smiling at Steve.

“Might need a snack soon, but for now, just sit with me?”

“Anything you want, Eds.”

Sometimes it scared Eddie how much Steve truly meant when he said anything.

He knew whatever he asked, whatever he needed or wanted, Steve would find a way to do it or die trying.

And it wasn’t just like that for Eddie.

Robin and the kids got the same from him, which just made Eddie love him even more.

Steve’s hand rested in the water, ready to add more hot water the moment it no longer felt hot enough.

They sat in silence, Eddie’s eyes closed as he tried to forget about the ache deep in his bones.

He startled when he heard Wayne asking Steve if he wanted him to make them all some lunch.

He looked over at Steve and nodded.

“Yeah, lunch would be great! I’m gonna get him out in a minute,” Steve said before sitting on the edge of the tub.”You ready to get out?”

“Mhm. Just gotta be slow,” Eddie said.

The bath had helped, but he knew better than to think the pain was gone. He knew when he started moving again it would probably get worse.

He took it easy on his way back to bed, towel wrapped around him, almost his entire body weight relying on Steve to get him there.

Between Steve and Wayne, he didn’t have a moment go by where he wasn’t getting cared for.

Steve even gave him a massage, found every spot that hurt and made it turn to jelly with little to no effort.

He fell asleep with the heating pad under his back, the noise from Wayne’s tv show coming from the living room, and Steve’s hand in his hair.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #request #chronic pain #hurt/comfort #wayne munson

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spicycinnabun · 2 months

Text

pt. 1 2 4 🧜🏻‍♂️

Mickey glanced up from his book when he heard a soft splashing in the water near him. He thought maybe it was a bird that had landed by the boat, but…

“Holy fuckin' Christ!”

Mickey jerked back. That had to be the biggest goddamn goldfish he’d ever seen. Or maybe it was a giant man-eating fish that wanted him for dinner. Mickey didn’t know what the fuck lived in the lake. Jesus, did Lake Michigan have sharks? Either way, it was quickly coming in his direction.

He scrambled to stand up, getting his legs out of the water in case whatever it was decided to take a nice big chunk out of him. His book slid off his lap and fell into the lake with a plop that he barely noticed because he was too busy watching the glittering…

Wow, those colors…

Mickey blinked a few times, dumbfounded by its beauty, as it twisted and twirled in the water, doing a little dance. His fingers suddenly itched for his markers and drawing pad. At the same time, he shook his head quickly to snap himself out of it and reached for the gun in his shorts’ pocket.

It was just instinct, alright? Could you shoot a fucking fish in the water? Mickey didn’t know!

Mickey aimed and loaded, finger poised on the trigger as it got closer and closer. He grunted in shock when he saw a human torso. His eyes couldn’t comprehend what they were seeing. Was the fish eating a guy already, and the guy was trying to swim away?

“What the fuck?!”

Ian knew that he had gotten too close—that he had been spotted—when he heard shouts above the surface of the water. For some reason, he didn’t feel scared. He popped his head out of the water to check, bright green eyes widening when he saw the short, raven-haired land fish pointing a peculiar object at him.

Mickey was losing his goddamn mind. That was a red, curly-haired head of a guy probably not much younger than himself. His eyes were so bright they were twinkling, catching the sun mesmerizingly. And down below the water, though it was blurry, was a fucking fishtail. Attached to the guy. Half fish, half man. Mer…merman. Mickey gulped.

Then the guy opened his mouth—an alluringly pink mouth—and let out an unearthly sound.

It wasn’t unpleasant. It was soft, almost like music, caressing Mickey’s eardrums. His grip went slack on the gun, and he dropped it in the water, watching with a dazed expression as the merman (fuck, man, this really couldn’t be happening to him) dove below the water to fetch it.

Ian smiled up a storm as he resurfaced. “What is this thing?” he asked, holding the heavy contraption by the barrel and pointing it at himself. It wasn’t so scary now that the land fish didn’t have it. Ian looked up, distracted again as he took in the colorful markings on the land fish’s arms. “Whoa, cool scales!”

Mickey’s head cleared whiplash fast. He lifted his hands in alarm. “Jesus, don’t fuckin’—be careful! It’s a fuckin’ gun. What the fuck do you think? It’s loaded, don’t pull the trigger.”

The guy had a grin on his face like he’d just opened a fucking Christmas present. Maybe he was a dimwit, Mickey didn’t know—he also didn’t know why his heart lurched into his fucking throat. And he was thrown by the compliment. Cool scales. What? What?

Mickey was more concerned about the gun that could be turned towards himself any second.

“Fuckin’ gun,” Ian repeated, looking at it. Something to be careful with. Don’t pull the trigger? (What was a trigger?) He furrowed his brow, not wanting to keep holding something that could hurt either of them. Maybe it was like a harpoon. Ian had seen fish being harpooned by humans many times. It was awful.

Mickey might’ve barked a laugh if the guy hadn’t been holding the gun. He didn’t know what a gun was? Was he insane or just great at acting?

“Look, can you put that down?” Mickey gestured towards the stern—poopdeck, whatever. He was… thirty percent sure now the guy wasn’t out to eat him. “I won't hurt you. I’ll put it away.”

Ian contemplated it only momentarily, then put the gun down on the boat.

Mickey held his breath and slowly crouched to grab it. He kept his eyes on the merman as he lifted the red seating cushion from one side of the boat, which was also a storage space. He nearly shot himself in the foot first, though, at the following words that left the merman’s mouth.

“I knew that you weren’t going to hurt me. You sounded so scared. You don’t look scary. You look pretty,” Ian complimented. “I’m not going to hurt you either.”

Mickey choked on his spit and blushed crimson—something he hadn’t done since he was about fourteen, and his sister caught him with his hand down his pants, jerkin’ it to one of the heartthrobs in her Seventeen magazine.

He hastily clicked the safety on and dropped the gun in the storage compartment, closing it. Pretty? How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that? The guy said it with such honest fuckin’ sincerity, too. Didn’t seem to be yanking no chains.

Mickey really didn’t know what the fuck to do, so he decided to ignore it, shoulders relaxing slowly. This merman was acting more like a puppy than a human-eating monster.

Ian swam closer to splash Mickey with his tail, presenting himself and showing it off. Maybe he could be friends with the lovely land fish.

The rush of cold water hit Mickey’s chest and made him shout again. “Ay!”

Ian loved that reaction. What a funny noise. He knew the land fish would be grateful since he looked so hot. That was the worst part about being above the water, or so he imagined. Ian hated being hot and only was when he was above the surface for too long.

The combination of his sunburnt skin and the cold lake water felt fucking freezing. Water dripped down Mickey’s chest, leaving a wet patch on his shorts, already drying from the relentless heat. But he felt an insatiable urge to get a closer look at that flapper.

Before he knew it, Mickey was sitting on the edge of the boat again, watching the sunlight hit iridescent, shiny scales in colors he wondered if he’d even be able to recreate on paper. Probably not. He wasn’t a goddamn Picasso.

Stopping himself before he did something like reach out, Mickey returned the merman’s gaze. Then something occurred to him, and he felt like the most gullible asshole on the planet. “Is that a fuckin’ costume?”

Of course it was. Maybe this guy was one of those weird cosplayer people. The ones that dressed up like crazy characters from their favorite shows and pretended to be them and shit.

Mickey knew some girls liked buying fake mermaid tales to swim with and pretend to be mermaids. Maybe this was just that on an… extreme level. It all looked so real.

Ian was happy that the land fish had settled, looking comfortable again. He followed Mickey’s gaze to his tail. “My what? That’s my tail.”

Mickey paused, then shook his head. “You need a ride back to your boat or somethin’, man?”

Not that Mickey could give him one, now that he’d lost his fuckin’ book and had no idea how to sail anywhere.

“I don’t have a boat. Don’t need one, obviously,” Ian replied. He flicked his tail again pointedly. Maybe this land fish wasn’t so smart.

Mickey raised his eyebrows, amused now that he knew he wasn't going crazy and talking to an actual fucking merman. “Right, course,” he replied.

If the guy wanted to keep up his weird charade, who the fuck was Mickey to stop him? It could have also been the fact that the “merman” was otherworldly levels of attractive and was sort of flirting with him, that Mickey didn’t tell him to just cut the psycho bullshit.

There weren’t many pretty guys in the clink—and if there were, they hadn’t been able to scratch that particular itch Mickey needed scratching. Mickey hadn’t had a proper tumble in over two years. He wouldn't be too choosy about sticking his dick in crazy if it meant finally getting scratched.

“Do you need help getting back to the shore?” Ian asked worriedly. “Boats like this aren’t normally out this far. Not that I want you to go…"

It was refreshing to see a young, hot land fish all the way out near the findom. Ian started to swim around Mickey's dangling feet, needing to burn off some energy. He was too excited.

“Ah fuck, I did come out too far then. Kinda what I thought.” Mickey scratched at his jaw and his itchy five o‘clock shadow.

That was a real problem, but if his new acquaintance knew how to work those sails and take him back, that’d work. And it was probably just an excuse to get back to wherever the fuck the guy came from.

Mickey watched the graceful loops around his legs the merman was performing. He must’ve practiced for a long time to get that good at wearing the tail. He didn’t seem tired at all.

“A’right, fish boy, hop aboard. You’re gonna have to de-tail yourself, though. Promise I won’t look.” He wondered if the guy would go as far as flopping around on the boat like an actual fish out of water.

Ian stopped swimming around, glaring up at the land fish. “I’m not a fish boy. I’m a merman. Also, I have a name. It’s Ian.”

Ian couldn’t go onto the boat. He couldn’t be out of the water that long, let alone help sail the boat or take off his tail. What the fuck?

Mickey almost chuckled. The power of that glare was pretty impressive… but still amusing as hell. “Oh. I see.”

Ian’s glare vanished. He grabbed one of Mickey’s legs and gave it a tug, pulling it further into the water. “Come swim with me. I wanna play, don’t you? I can push you in the right direction after we have some fun.”

Mickey quickly grabbed onto the side of the boat, inching his way back when his butt slid to the very edge, heart going slightly faster at the thought of falling in and sinking right down into the dark depths below.

His brows furrowed skeptically at the invitation and the fact that the guy wasn’t planning on getting on the boat. Maybe he was just nervous. Mickey had almost shot him, after all. But they were in the middle of the fucking lake, and unless he was planning on swimming to shore, he would have to get on eventually.

“I don’t think so, man,” Mickey said just as Ian went for his feet, nipping at his ankles playfully. Mickey jerked them away from him. Jesus, those teeth were sharp! He kicked at Ian but only ended up splashing him. “What the fuck! Ay! Stop bitin’ me, you fuckin’ piranha!”

Ian ducked the kicks, laughing up a storm and causing small waves as he just got splashed. He enjoyed that thoroughly. He was already having so much fun. He was glad now that he had been spotted. Usually, he wouldn’t dare get this close to a human, but he had a really good feeling about this one.

“Land fish tastes pretty good,” Ian teased, licking his lips.

“Land fish? I’m human, bitch. And I got a name. It’s Mickey.” Imitating Ian’s earlier attitude, Mickey huffed. His stomach was acting weird, doing little somersaults as he listened to that strangely melodic, joyful laughter. He’d never heard anyone sound so carefree. “Yeah, I’m not lookin’ to be fish food today, sorry.”

“Human bitch,” Ian repeated. Was that a different kind of human? Ian hadn’t heard of the human bitch before, but it was obvious now that Mickey… was different. Ian smiled. He liked the human bitch’s name. It was just as cute sounding as he looked.

Jesus Christ. “No, that’s not—” Mickey rubbed his face. God, this guy was fucking deranged. A human parrot who wanted to be a fish. “You know what? Forget it.”

Ian calmed and leaned back into the water, putting his hands behind his head and looking up at Mickey. “I wish you’d join me. It’s so hot above water.”

Mickey took his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, taking a deep pull as he watched the wannabe merman. As if he needed reminding of how fucking hot it was outside. He was burning to a crisp on deck, while Flipper down there was cool and refreshed.

Mickey exhaled his smoke, tongue dry in his mouth and sweat rolling down his spine as his gaze roved over the impressive body stretched out, glittering and glistening beneath him. Mickey squinted a little against the sunlight, trying not to let his eyes stay on the spot where Ian’s dick was hiding beneath his tail. There wasn’t any indication of a bulge there, so he probably wasn’t packing much.

“Can ya do any tricks then?” Mickey asked, changing the subject. “Little flips, merman parkour on the coral?”

Ian had relaxed long enough. Without a word, he smirked and dove under the water, disappearing from view.

Mickey’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline. He looked around, trying to spot that tail, but saw nothing. A few seconds of silence passed, and Mickey started to feel a little uneasy, with just the noise of the mainsail flapping against the boom where Mickey had lowered it improperly. Then he heard something behind him, and something shot out of the water and flew above him in an arc, right over the boat and then back into the water again.

“Holy shit!” Mickey said, nearly dropping his cigarette onto his shorts.

It was Ian. Mickey, once again, couldn’t believe his fucking eyes. That was actually… that was amazing. Mickey’s jaw was practically in his lap. He’d only just managed to close his mouth by the time Ian resurfaced.

“How in the fuck did you do that?” Mickey asked him. “You in the fuckin’ Cirque Du Sun or some shit?”

That had to be it. The crazy makeup, the dancer-like movements, the acrobatics, the ridiculous body. Circus freak, for sure.

Ian laughed at the first question. Before he could answer, Mickey asked a second question that he didn’t understand. He furrowed his brow instead of repeating it and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re asking me, but that’s one of my favorite things to do when I’m bored or want to show off... I’ve been jumping over things like that since I was a merlad, so I’ve gotten pretty good.”

A merlad. Cute. That was fine. Ian could keep his secrets if he wanted to. Mickey bit his chapped bottom lip. “Mhm.”

“Now it’s your turn to show me something,” Ian said. “It’s only fair.”

If Mickey wouldn’t join him in the water, he could entertain Ian another way.

🌊🧜🏻‍♂️🪸⛵️

co-writing with my ian, @batty4steddie 🩵

#fic #yb #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #shameless #gallavich #ian x mickey #mickey x ian #gallavich fic #gallavich au #merman au #mermaid au #supernatural au #mermian #merman!ian #🧜🏻‍♂️#sailor!mickey #⛵️#little bit of a longer part for y'all

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