#maybe I’ll get to them at some point after the event or if I end up with extra time. OOH maybe I’ll put them in some of the future ones
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MANNA- CHAPTER SIXTEEN: CHAMPAGNE
Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic
TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, Daddy kink, suicidal ideation
Read after the cut
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“Hannibal’s hosting a soirée tonight,” you say to Will as you stand lining your eyes with a black pencil before your bedroom mirror. “Did you know about it?”
Will sits in a nearby chair, looking at you from behind his glasses. Having come fresh from a lecture he has not quite shaken off the mask with which he conducts public business, working through a measure of whiskey clutched in one restless hand with an eagerness to cut through to comfort again.
You think of method actors unable to ease out of an accent learned and feel a tail of ice switch your shoulder blades.
This man you'd once thought a victim struck down and made wary of society. Now you see in this slow adjustment of self that while this is not entirely untrue, Will dresses himself in shying gestures so as to keep the world at a purposeful length from him.
You wonder if his spectacles are fitted with prescription lenses, or if they’re formed of ordinary glass. Perhaps his Virginian hermitage is equally constructed, as much to discourage him from seeking dangerous connections as to ward unexpected company from his doorstep.
This man suspires for touch, for love; through each exchange you sense the pull of it, and the ground-heel stubbornness of his restraint.
“Hannibal’s been organising some kind of event for weeks,” Will says, abruptly. “He does this, now and then.”
“Aren’t you coming?” you ask, pausing in your work to glance at his reflection.
Will laughs shortly, the sound scoured rough with scorn.
“It’s not really my scene. Champagne and social climbers— I’d rather stay home with my dogs.”
You envision Will in a sea of wriggling animals, the iron fortification of his false self come down in open laughter, and you see something in this obscure pretender to like beyond superficial things.
“I wish you were coming,” you say, and again Will laughs aloud.
“Don’t kiss my ass.”
“I’m serious. I need you. Hannibal says he wants me to go downstairs for a couple of hours tonight.”
“And what did you say?” asks Will, watching you finish the adornment of cosmetics with the interest of having never before witnessed the process in motion.
“I said, ‘no thanks, Dad,'" you admit. "But here I am, getting ready to go anyway. I figured I’ve pissed Hannibal off too much lately to turn him down. Did he tell you what I did?”
"He didn’t go into the details. All he said was that you stepped out of line, and that he had to do something about it.”
He sets his whiskey glass on the floor, an act that would likely have your older jailer cringing in pernickety affront.
“You insist on butting heads with Hannibal,” Will continues, “even when you don’t like where you end up. Or maybe you do.”
You whirl round, brandishing an indignant hand in his direction.
“I do not!”
Will takes off his glasses, his gaze beneath both cynical and toying. You recall his fingers investigating your arousal post-spanking and look away again, itching beneath three tiers of lavender and ebony lace.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” says Will. “I’m trying to figure you out.”
“Yeah, well,” you retort. “I’ll bet you’ve done that already. If you can get inside the Lover’s head then mine shouldn’t be a problem.”
Moth like, Will’s eyelids flutter towards the window’s fading light.
“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Still haven’t cracked the case?”
“Not yet. The investigation into the factories and the vendors using them is going way too slowly to be viable. Jack thinks the dolls were purchased years ago, likely under a false name. We can’t rely on that to find the killer. He planned this more than a decade in advance.
“At this point he’s either waiting for the perfect chance to abduct his true target or he’s lingering to enjoy the thought of her being afraid. It could be both. He’s a cruel lover.”
Will blinks, and his brows close together in a frown.
“You’re changing the subject, Little One.”
You jolt to hear the moniker in full, and now with an accusatory edge.
Twitching, you say, “Yeah, I am. ‘Cause it’s embarrassing.”
“Hannibal doesn’t think so.”
Shoving your makeup bag aside you round on Will again, unimpressed. There is something of his old jealousy under the amusement, the stirring of a sleeping and cantankerous god. His attraction to you still does not change that he seethes to think of you and Hannibal alone together, of the nights he and his friend had once committed only to the other.
Will ultimately relishes that you were degraded, a consolation in his displeasure.
He brings his chair towards you, eager to chase the conversation further with his proximity.
“Hannibal knows it’s embarrassing,” you say. “That’s kind of the point. You’re both so smug about this.”
Will reaches out to pull you gently into his lap.
“Maybe just a little," he says, and you squirm against him, suppressing the silt of disgust in learning to win him this way, for wanting the affirmation of his desire upright against you.
Will adjusts you to straddle his thigh instead, a knowing participant in your game.
You turn on his knee, putting your arms about his neck to look into his face, close enough to see your silhouette in the rock pools of blown pupils.
“Will,” you say. “Do you think Hannibal loves me?”
Will starts, all the humour absenting itself from him at once.
“Do you want him to?” he asks, quite incredulous.
You dither over your answer, which is no longer as distinct as it once was. Hannibal’s adoration is a statement of lasting security, yet to be the darling of a man willing to orchestrate a killing in the name of therapy is a thought like venom in the blood; should you concede you too will die in all but physical form.
Aloud, you only say, “I could ask you the same thing, Daddy. What if Hannibal felt that way about you? Would you like it?”
Before Will can confirm, deny, or deflect with some pithy comment your bedroom door opens, and the moment is knocked through like a stoned pane of glass.
“Sorry to be abrupt,” says Hannibal, mildly. “Staff will be arriving soon to help prepare for my guests. If you’re not staying, Will, then you may wish to make yourself scarce.”
The younger man rises from his seat with a haste that surely does not go unnoticed by the other.
“Sure,” says Will. “I’ve got papers to grade, anyway. I’ll try and make the time to visit tomorrow.”
Your captors exchange glances, Hannibal with his usual, unshielded ardour, Will with a curiosity that, in other circumstances, might amuse you. Somehow, in all of this, he had not consciously entertained a belief in Hannibal’s attraction to him.
Now, through your question, he considers it, but says nothing, taking leave of you both with his opinion on the matter an enigma.
*
Like an enchantress at her oriel you observe as the workforce arrives, shaking rain off their umbrellas at the front door. Some hours later the vision is repeated with the expensive and largely beautiful attendees of Hannibal’s party, some glancing up at the house and nudging one another as they notice you above.
You feel a lurch of anxiety to think that you are expected to go among them, to smile with saccharine manners and pretend to them that you’re no more than a patient to the venerated Dr Lecter.
All this, surrounded by canapés and flowing drinks that will tease and taunt with scents and flavour— your stomach bellows in anticipation of it, for though you’ve eaten it is, as ever, not enough.
It seems a fickle thing to find yourself so oppressed while living with a man that has offered to help you maim and slaughter another, and yet between the horrors of illness and this it is satiation that you fear the most.
Still, you fear Hannibal also, this creature in his costume of human flesh and pleasantries.
That he has not spoken of Leland or Amy in two days only underpins the intelligence of his evil, a thing that he can fold away into himself just as he likes. You’ve continued your act as daughter-wife only in that to display your horror of him openly will mark you as not of his ilk but as prey, a delicacy procured from the forest.
Thus, with effort you brush the pounding of your heart and the agony of the cane under the rug of memory and watch the glittering people under a marquee of rain clouds until they’ve all entered, leaving the night empty again.
You listen with one cheek to the floorboards to the clink of glasses and droning conversation below, the instruments of hired musicians at their haunting work.
Surely you will not meld easily with such company as seethes beneath, even gowned as you are in grey silk and lace from a fashion house few can afford. Your mouth will open, and you will reveal yourself clumsy-tongued and unsuited to their guild.
The terror of it has quite gnawed you through by the time Hannibal ascends from the soirée to collect you.
“Are you ready to meet my guests, Little One?” he asks, taking your clammy hand with its nails bitten down to their ends.
“Not really,” you mumble. “Not sure I’m one of them.”
Hannibal lifts your arm to kiss your inner wrist where a vein strums with lurching adrenaline.
“You’re beginning to resemble Will in your attitudes,” he says, his voice a vibration on your skin. “But I disagree. My friends and acquaintances will find you as charming as I do.”
There is an implicit and unworded warning not to embarrass him in the compliment, a flash in the peat dark of his eyes. Gulping thickly, you fasten yourself to Hannibal’s side as you take the stairs, poised to wince under the observation of the many gathered below.
Hannibal’s house is made a palace by their decoration, men in crisp suits and women in forests of jewellery stepping from room to room, their chatter like another kind of music. Servers go about with trays of extravagant food and champagne, and in one corner a band plays a rendition of some famous classical piece whose name you don’t recall.
Overwhelmed, you glance back up the stairwell, ushered on by Hannibal’s hand upon your arm.
“I understand your reservations,” he murmurs. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been in the presence of so many people at once.”
Yet is not the quantity that perturbs you, but the agony of inevitable comparison. You feel like some vast and bloated airship amidst the slenderness of so many of Hannibal’s peers. Placing a hand across your stomach you attempt an awkward smile as you’re introduced to each guest the doctor approaches, thinking of the front door—surely locked, now, or guarded—through which you’d take flight, had you the chance.
A familiar voice anchors you amidst your desperate thoughts.
“Well, now, look who it is.”
Turning, you gasp with delight.
“It’s nice to see you again, Jack,” you say, going eagerly forth to shake his outstretched hand. “I like your suit.”
Jack grins, holding out the arms of his jacket in a playful gesture.
“Why, thank you. I’ll have to tell Bella you said so. She bought it for me a few years back.”
Hannibal subtly brings you closer to his side, keen to intercept in case, as before, you attempt to communicate your struggle to Agent Crawford.
“Bella has excellent taste,” he says. “In suits, and in her companions.”
“You know she does, Doctor,” says Jack, and turns to peer into the crowd. “Hold on a moment. I’ve just seen Chilton over there. I’ll be back.”
As he wades through the throng you gaze after him, yearning to give chase. He, of all men present, you trust entirely with your safety, myopic though he is to the evil around him.
Steering you in the other direction, Hannibal says, “Perhaps you’d like to introduce yourself to my guests independently. It’s important for you to develop confidence in your social abilities.”
You start violently at the suggestion. To be left alone at this event is a risk that shrieks of Hannibal's deiform arrogance; they know, these guests, of your madness, the sympathetic injury that may well twist you against your caregiver.
The staff, too, are likely prepared, told you’ll lie to them or feign hysterics so as to be led away from this place by any that would believe in your performance.
Should you betray your attacker you would find yourself amongst enemies, yet it does not cross your mind even to attempt it.
For the first time you find Hannibal an ally: he has always regarded your weight with a neutral disinterest that even your disorder cannot twist into derision. The women that eye you up and down, however, reinforce that you are a failing thing to be judged, and so you read into even the most innocuous look a malice.
“Can’t I stay with you?” you ask tremulously. “I barely know anyone here.”
A little smile graces Hannibal’s lips, and he leans in to speak softly at your ear.
“We mustn’t provoke any more speculation about us through unorthodox proximity. Miss Lounds is likely no longer alone in thinking us lovers. For now we must suggest that we are not.”
“But—"
“Hush,” says Hannibal. “Be a good girl and do this for me.”
You think acutely of his mouth upon your cunt earlier that morning, taking you fresh from the shower against the bathroom wall as you’d bitten your fist against weak and hopeless cries. He had not hurt you, not threatened, merely knelt and pushed your leg over his shoulder, relying on your startled fear to keep you pliant.
He’d made you come with sensation like the taste of sparks, a sudden, pulling burst around him. You’d taken it like a morsel from his fingertips; a gift from him, making things up to you after your whipping, so that you can never think him only cruel.
This pressure now upon you to be grown: it is not mean for meanness’ sake. He desires evidence that you are capable of bearing his secrets without lapsing into betrayal, for only then will you be worthy of his love.
“Okay,” you say, at last, and Hannibal lets you go off in your silver dress like a piece of loose smoke whipped away by the wind.
You watch him through the crowd—sleekly handsome, and effortlessly entertaining—in defeat. He has worked to make you dependent on him, but you are ashamed of the success with which he’s so quickly achieved that very goal.
A woman attempts to speak to you, a gallery owner of the eccentric, elderly type; a young man, a scholar, comes at the other side of you with a question you don’t quite hear. Bewildered, you utter what vague answers you can summon at a whim and excuse yourself, cupping a hand at your eyes to blinker yourself against a passing tray of confections.
The lights, the noise, the bodies that press about you like a rising flock of pigeons disturbed on some night street— overcome by panic, you find yourself up against the stupid urge to weep.
Another server edges by you with a battalion of golden champagne glasses on a teetering plate. Thinking of the warmth of Will’s Irish coffees you take a glass in hand and look at it, paused only by the immediate calculation of figures wrapped about your brain like a band.
Seventy calories on top of the four hundred from this morning, then the three hundred of what you ate of dinner, the one hundred and eighty in fresh juice—
Guilty as a murderer you sip the champagne to its end, ducking out of Hannibal’s view as you take a second measure from another member of his staff. The day is already ruined beyond salvaging, you reason; whatever calories you drink no longer count.
As with the whiskey you feel yourself warm, adrift from the cutting mouth of your perpetual nerves. The vast rooms soften, taking on the glazed appearance of a gala in a dream. By the time you sneak your fourth glass it is almost easy to return a hundred curious smiles, to answer shallow questions with equal shallowness.
“Yes, it’s a beautiful house. Yes, I’m doing much better now that I’m here. Yes, Dr Lecter is awfully kind. Oh, Will’s really a great guy once you get to know him.”
Gradually you see the guests accept you as they might a quaint exotic pet, certainly not their equal, but pleasant enough to understand their host’s affection for. That he, the saint they fawn over, has forced his mouth upon your soaking cunt that very morning makes you laugh now that you’re drunk enough.
Such idiots this man pulls about him, art curators, literary critics, the blood of old money, all equally duped as you never were, not once. These friends of his know only a character he plays, fanatics following a myth.
In this, at least, you are superior, the child Antichrist groomed by devilish fathers for a coronation in evil.
Caught between this grim lucidity and a certain gloating you stumble into a red-headed woman in a Verdigris gown like copper made lovely by deep water. Muttering an embarrassed apology you turn away, stayed only by her small hand at your elbow.
“Well, hi,” she says. “I didn’t think Hannibal would let you out for this. I heard he keeps you under lock and key. I’m Freddie Lounds, by the way.”
Stupid with drink, you attempt to gather yourself in the face of this revelation.
“I know you!” you cry. “I’ve read your stuff. Some of it, anyway. And yeah, I was surprised he let me come, too.”
Your eyes meet Freddie’s, searching for the same thing she hopes of yours: an understanding between you. The union of a shared opinion.
“I take it you’re not thrilled to be under his care,” she says in a lowered voice. “I have my own professional opinions about Hannibal and Will Graham, and I’m not the only one. That’s partly the reason I came. I had a hunch I’d find some answers here.”
In bilious regret of the champagne you list against a nearby wall for support.
“Answers? What do you mean?”
Freddie leans in conspiratorially, blocking you from Hannibal’s sight should he glance in your direction.
“Not long ago I received an anonymous email from someone claiming to know you,” says Freddie. “They were hoping to secure an interview to set the record straight regarding a recent article published on the Tattle Crime website. I never turn down potential information, so I said I’d do it, but they never responded.”
She pauses, alert to the change in your expression.
“Last night a young woman was abducted in the same way all of the Lover’s victims were taken. My research seems to point to her being an old school friend of yours. I was wondering if you’d heard anything about her disappearance.”
Horror bowls you down as though from the uppermost step of a spiral staircase.
“What... what happened?” you stammer. “Please, I need to know.”
Freddie's eyes—the clever blue of a Collie bitch—cup your face in their keen hold.
“The victim was abducted from her home after opening her door to someone at around 11pm,” she says. “There was a struggle— furniture was overturned, and police say it’s likely the kidnapper sustained some kind of injury, although no blood was found at the scene. I imagine Will Graham performed one of his infamous recreations to figure that out.”
The room seems to rotate around you like hell’s carousel, sickening, searing.
“The victim,” you say. “What was her name?”
You know before Freddie speaks her answer, have known it from the moment you’d placed your hand upon Hannibal’s telephone, as though fate itself by psychic puppetry had directed your hand.
“It’s Amy Glass,” says Freddie, and she makes a hunting gesture, as though searching for an invisible notepad. “So can you confirm that she’s a friend of yours?”
Shaking your head, you jerk away from the wall, swerving out from under Freddie’s arm as she reaches out to you, her face almost soft with concern. She calls you back to her, but you are already striding across the room to the beast in his mortal attire, deaf to all but him.
“Hannibal!” you shrill above the music. “Hannibal, I need to talk to you!”
People turn, startled and intrigued, anticipating a spectacle, the lunatic girl in full bloom.
Hannibal glances about, rapidly assessing the danger you threaten. An emotional scene could sully his reputation, an indelible stain on his house.
Addressing you by name, he says, “What’s wrong? Has someone upset you?”
“Yes,” you say, through gritted teeth. “You.”
Hannibal’s eyes shift, finally interpreting the length of rage and terrified abjection unreeling within you.
“Come with me, then,” he says, quickly. “Let’s discuss this upstairs.”
Your mouth opens, and you imagine instigating a scandal, screaming of the abuse and other foulness invoked upon you.
Then you think again of flesh and killing and nod your head coldly, allowing Hannibal to guide you to your bedroom with a murmured excuse to his guests.
Once alone, he sits you down on the bed, his tight jaw easing as he feels the violence with which you shake at his light touch.
“Tell me what happened,” he says. “Tell me everything.”
Your fists squeeze as one in your lap.
“Amy is missing. Freddie Lounds told me. What did you do to my friend? Where did you take her?”
Hannibal’s visage changes subtly, the humanity in it retreating to reveal that other self, the stag of putrid dreams.
“I didn’t take Amy,” he says, flatly. “I assume Freddie informed you of the details of her abduction. Amy injured her attacker, and I don’t bear the mark. You saw nothing upon me this morning.”
Indeed you had not; his nude body, knelt between your legs, had been as fresh parchment, white and clear, but still he is no innocent.
“You must have told the Lover about her,” you insist. “Left some sign for him somewhere. You did this. I know you did. You did this to punish me, or to see how I’d react. Well, congrats, Dad. This is it. I hate you.”
Your breath rips in and out of your lungs like the proboscis of some terrible drill, and as you lean into Hannibal’s face you see your own spittle jump the air in the force of your emotion.
“If you let her die I’ll starve myself,” you say. “I’ll go on hunger strike. You can do anything you want to me, I don’t care. I’ll do it. I’ll kill myself.”
“I won’t let you,” says Hannibal, calmly.
“I’ll find a way. I’ll make you regret what you did.”
He shifts back from you a fraction, and you comprehend in that subtle motion that he believes it.
“You care so strongly for this old friend, then,” he says, simply.
“Yes. You feel the same way about Will. If Amy gets hurt or dies because of me— I couldn’t handle it. I can’t. I can’t. You know what the Lover does to people. How could you send her there? How could you do this?”
Your voice wavers, threatening sobs, and you curse yourself for your fragility, the little girl you cannot help but be. Hannibal finds a handkerchief and touches it to your face, his previous compassion returning, and with dismay you accept that while your anger will not move him entreating him as your father will.
“If you ever want me to trust you and your way of living then bring her back, Daddy,” you whisper. “Please, Daddy. Please. Please.”
Hannibal's head turns aside, examining you with a renewed interest.
“You believe me to be such a God as to be capable of this.”
“Yes. You can do anything you want to. You can help her. I know you can. If you don’t you’ll ruin everything you want with me and Will. This is all I’ll think about when I see your face.”
Your jailer doesn’t answer, only reaches out to take your sweat-damp dress down from your shoulders. On a repulsed and foolish instinct you slap his hands from you.
“I can do it myself.”
Hannibal snatches hold of your wrists, and for a moment you see him consider violence, his eyes blackly wild, like Will’s, as though absorbing his lover’s approach.
“I’m sure you can,” he says, at last, and he lets your hands fall, unharmed, into your lap. “Please stay in your room until my guests leave tonight. I wouldn’t like you to upset them or yourself any further.”
“What about Amy?” you ask. “Are you going to find her?”
Without answering Hannibal turns to re-join the party, pausing in the doorway to impart his final direction.
“Please don’t mention what has transpired to Will. He doesn’t know that you and Amy are still so closely connected, and so it should remain. Obey me and you’ll receive no punishment for disturbing the festivities. The fault lies with me for allowing you to encounter Freddie Lounds while unattended, after all.”
You want to scream after him, tear at his carefully ironed shirt collar and rend from him an answer to your request. But he only leaves you alone behind your locked door with thoughts of Amy cut apart to fit the body of a doll. Defiled, as you've frequently been.
#manna fic#hannibal fic#nbc hannibal#hannibal lecter#tw noncon#dark fic#tw daddy kink#tw rape#tw abuse#tw eating disorders#tw anorexia#hannibal lecter x reader x will graham#hannibal lecter x reader#will graham x reader#will graham#yandere will graham#yandere hannibal lecter
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Day 6 of @hermitadaymay and it’s the one and only Sans Undertale!!
#my art#Ijevin#ijevin fanart#jevin#jevin fanart#hermitcraft#hermitcraft fanart#hermitcraft art#hermit-a-day may#hermitadaymay#hermit-a-day may 2024#hermitadaymay 2024#hermitaday#Shoutout to this dude for having the most simple and easy to draw while still being visually satisfying design fucking ever#so few colors but not few enough to be boring. Enough details to be fun but not enough to be cumbersome to draw.#such good shapes.. transparent elements that are still fairly simple… AND i don’t have to draw toes this truly is a Fun To Draw Guy#also this is going out like two minutes into day 7 because I hit post limit with my reblogs today 💀#I plan to miss as few days as possible I wanted to do keratin but got busy during the day. And then I had work yesterday. Wan’t super-#-pressed about missing Sundays before since they’re extra prompt days but I would have liked to not miss TFC#maybe I’ll get to them at some point after the event or if I end up with extra time. OOH maybe I’ll put them in some of the future ones#that would be easy. Yeah maybe I’ll do that. I could but Keralis with xB. They hang out right (<- doesn’t watch either of them)#Ooooh yeah actually I have a good idea for that that’s what I’m doing. I’ll figure out somewhere to put TFC i think
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toddler - Matt Sturniolo
summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.
contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?
a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.
----———--------------..••°°°°••..------------————
7:38pm
matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.
i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.
yesterday
“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up
“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him
matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”
“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”
“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.
“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells
the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom
“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.
—
my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.
i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins
“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.
she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.
“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head
i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.
i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh
suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed
“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.
millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire
as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something
“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in
i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face
“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor
“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths
he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths
he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me
“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.
“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.
“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”
matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.
i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down
“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.
“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.
millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt
matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response
“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs
“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.
“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie
“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks
millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand
“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead
they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.
matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands
“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.
“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”
claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.
matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.
after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.
“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod
—-
8:56pm
matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.
matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.
“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.
i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.
“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.
“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.
“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper
“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression
“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”
matt goes silent,
“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks
“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”
i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.
matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.
the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.
“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.
“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out
“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”
matt rambles
“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”
“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”
matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.
“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.
matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep
————
9:56am the next day
the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,
my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.
i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.
i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.
the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight
my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.
“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.
“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.
they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile
millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.
“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.
“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me
“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.
————
@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209
#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo angst#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut
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Miles 42 headcanons?
no one asked but i’ll deliver !!
Miles!42 x Fem!Reader random headcanons
also a lot of snippets :)
You/Reader: Blue
Miles Morales: Purple
Mama Rio/Rio Morales: Pink
Uncle Aaron/Aaron Morales: Orange
Random/stranger: Black
—
gift giving love language duhhh
Will have you walk with him through malls and whatever you look at for a second too long he buys
You don’t catch on until you’re both eating at a nice restaurant, absentmindedly staring at some plant when a lull in conversation happens.
He purchases the plant.
“Fuck you mean I can’t buy it?”
“Sir, the plants aren’t for sale, this is a dining establishment.”
“Establish the fact I’m gettin’ that plant.”
“Sir—“
50 bucks down and a plant 🆙
He will damn right die if you refuse him. He’ll get all grumpy and pouty when you say he should save for a house, not for you.
convinced you just get shy when bought things (you do).
is even more motivated to buy things
“Miles, baby, you need to save up. Not spend on me!”
“This would look so good on you, Ma.”
“Are you listening??”
“Fuck, and this.”
“Oh my god.”
gets so jealous it’s unbelievable
but only when someone goes too far with you
it’s like 1–100 real quick
he’s not usually the prowling type (ha)
but when someone pushes the line he loses his shit
other than that he’s a supportive bbg all the way
“Wanna go home with me, butterface?”
“Fuck you just say?”
“Nothing homie just get outta here.”
“Say that shit again ‘homie’.”
“Chill the fuck out. Let the lady speak for herself.”
“I’ll fucking speak for my girl all I want, homeboy.”
maybe got a liiiiittle bit of an anger issue
guy went home with a broken nose and a missing tooth
better hope he can afford fill ins
he would never get mad at you though
he gets frustrated you don’t listen sometimes, but it’s never to the point of anger
feel like he has the patience of a fucking SAINT
calm and collected baby u know the deal
“Mami, we gonna have a problem?”
“”
“Didn’t think so.”
a SWEETHEART at times
stand by him being raised right
mama rio taught him to be a romantic
wanted him to take after his dad
so flowers and gifts and chocolates
followed by lovin of any kind
probably a baby for affection but doesn’t show it
so when you get all emotional about being gifted roses for the first time
and hug him and smother him
give him stupid little kisses all over
he’s fainting
poor boy doesn’t know love like u show him
“Baby, are these for me?”
“Yeah, Chiquita. They okay?”
“Wh… They’re perfect.”
“Are you cryin’? I can return ‘em.”
“No! No, no, don’t do that.
I love them, C’mere.”
when you guys get rlly comfortable, like a year and some dating, he ends up getting more chatty
willingly talking w you for hours
feels like you’re the only person he can rlly do that with
rambles so rarely that you kind of just sit in awe when it happens
doesn’t catch himself until he’s trying to name your future kids
“I’ll marry you one day, we’ll have like two, three kids. Get all nice an cozy.
You want a boy or girl? I kinda want both. Definitely not girl first, never having a girl without a brother to protect ‘er.
You’d be such a good Mami.
What’d you wan’ name ‘em? I have a few ideas—“
“..”
“But you could choose the girl cause I don’t know any pretty names. And i’ll choose—“
“..”
“..”
“You gon’ let me keep goin?”
“I love your voice.”
“Tranquila, mami.”
Takes you to every family event he ever has
sits you regularly with Rio and Aaron
they insist you call them uncle and ma
you do, obviously
miles doesn’t need to meet your family if you don’t want him to, but if he ever does he’s totally suave with them
like weirdly smooth
able to get on ur carers good side quick
when you meet his extended family they’re just as loving
his whole family is this bright dash of colour
and you fit right the fuck in
“¡Oh, hija estás preciosa!”
“Dice la estrella de la fiesta!”
“You flatter me, Hija.”
“Miles, come get your girl.”
“You look nice too, Uncle Aaron.”
“..Thanks, kid.”
“Hey Mami, havin’ fun?”
“Aight, I’m out.”
when you find out he’s the prowler you’re not really shocked
he’s hella nervous to tell you and kinda puts it off for a while
as long as you’re not in harms way, nothin matters, yeah?
no
the guilt eats him alive
he’s already lost so much, if he doesn’t do things right with you, then loses you too
he’d probably lose himself
so he tells you
“The Prowler?”
“Yeah.”
“The.. Panther guy I keep seeing on the news-?”
“Mm.”
“Miles are you—
..—Are you killing people?”
“Mami, it’s not like that—“
“oh my god.”
“These men— I kill,”
“Oh my god, oh my god.”
“,They’re bad, you understand.”
“Miles..”
“[Name]. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.. Yeah I understand.”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
“…”
“Are you mad.”
“I’m not happy.”
“Okay.”
you’re kind of devastated he’s killing people
but you eventually get it
like it takes a while
say a month or so
but you forgive quick
i mean, who knows what those men are doing, right?
(ur delulu but it’s ok)
he lets you have your space but talking with mama rio when she realises your absence knocks some sense into him
mans is going to GROVEL
he will fucking beg on his damn knees
knocks on your door and is already kneeling
will plead with you to come back to him
like i said a whole ass romantic
you know what’s romantic? a man who can get on his knees
he will suffocate you in gifts and affection
oh you like (insert sanrio esc character) ? look over there at that lifesize plushie woahhhh wonder who that’s forrrrrr
“Hello?”
“Mami, don’t close the door.”
“Miles, go home.”
“And please stop kneeling, the floor is dirty.”
“I’m not leaving ‘til you hear me out.”
looooong sigh
“Okay, fine— whatever, come inside. You have two minutes.”
“God, I missed you. You’re so beautiful Chiquita.”
“Three minutes.”
You talk it out easy, he’s a real smooth talker when he wants to be
“Okay Miles, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”
“Yeah, Ma. See you soon.”
“Wh—.. What is that?”
“Ohhh…”
“Why the fuck is it so big?”
“It said “Life Size” on the site? I was thinking like two feet tall.”
“You bought that?”
“Yeah.. I was thinkin’ you wouldn’t let me in. Would have to bribe you.”
“…That’s really cute.”
Annnnnd that’s all i can come up with i’ll probably do more later :P
#miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales#miles x reader#miles morales#earth 42 miles morales x reader#rio morales#uncle aaron#aaron morales#into the spider verse
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Can I Call You Tonight?
got this silly idea from a reel, so I'm in silly neighbor ghost mood
summary: you watered simon's dying plants.
wc: 1,2k
warnings: pure fluff, ghost x f!reader
Simon was always working, either buried in paperwork or fighting for his dear life. He couldn’t complain, though, it was the life he chose to have. He’d rented this apartment because it was near his work and as he said, he could always go walking. It didn’t cost much to live in that area, and he believed he didn’t need more than that apartment could offer.
The relatively low cost was exactly the reason you chose this building, it could use some renovation but you were happy to be starting a new cycle of your life. Finally moving out, finally living alone, it was all you could’ve asked for.
Living there was great, you loved it. It was so chill it was almost boring, so when you found this silly thing to do, it became your favorite activity.
Looking diagonally down from your balcony, a neighbor of yours had a few sad-looking plants that could really use some water. That being said, you could give a little hand for them to come back to life. You grabbed your squeeze water bottle and poured down some water on the plants, trying not to wet his entire balcony as you did so.
It became your silly little thing, watering that person’s plant like you were taking care of a child, but watching as it slowly came to life again was priceless.
And Simon, well, he did notice something was different. As he smoked his cigarette, late at night on the balcony after arriving from his three week duty, he noticed the plant coming back to life again.
“Well, this is odd.” He said, grabbing his phone from the pocket and taking a picture of it.
“Why did you send me a photo of your plant?” Johnny called as soon as he saw the picture.
“It was dead when I left.” He said.
“Ok?”
“I didn’t water it while I was gone.”
“Ok… so, someone watered it for you?” Johnny chuckled.
“Negative. No one has my keys.” Simon said in a low tone.
“Maybe it revived on its own.” If Johnny could see him right now, he’d laugh at his deadpan.
“I don’t- why did I even text you. Someone could’ve broken in.”
“And what? Water your plants everyday and leave your stuff behind? Seems unusual.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Go rest, Lt, you deserve it.”
Simon stood there for a while, contemplating the events and then deciding he was overreacting. It wasn’t until he woke up in the morning, having slept on his couch, and heard the noise of water running. He jumped on his feet to check if he didn’t leave the sink open, but as he came back to his living room, he was able to see a small stream of water from his balcony.
“Ay, ay.” He opened the door, looking at where the water was coming; your apartment. Your cheeks immediately flushed as you noticed you’d spilled water in not only his plants, but him. You’d been on the phone, leaning on the balcony and holding the water bottle as you scrolled on your social media, and him yelling made you lose balance and drop your phone, and the chain of events unfolded way too fast.
You quickly let go of the water bottle and ran downstairs, only to meet him in his wet shirt, looking at your fucked up phone on the concrete. “I’ll get you a new one, I’m sorry.” He mumbled, turning to face you. “Simon.” He gave you his hand.
“Y/n.” You said with a pout, shaking his hand. You crouched, grabbing your now obviously dead phone and analyzing it. “I’m sorry for… well, for this.” You pointed at the wet patch on his shirt and he smiled.
“It’s nothing, it’ll dry off.” He said, watching as you almost finger punched your clearly not working phone. “Have you tried turning it off and turning it back on?” He chuckled, following you back to the building.
“Fuck off.” You rolled your eyes at him, but ended up laughing along. “Have you tried putting your shirt on rice?”
“Good one.” He smiled. He was so… handsome. Where was he the whole time you’ve been living there? You two got in the elevator, and he pressed the buttons of his and yours floors. “So it’s you who’s been watering my plants.”
“They were dehydrated. You’re a bad parent.” You said.
“I was at work.” He quickly said, and you mumbled a small ‘oh’. “Anyway, thank you. I was going to throw them out. They look good.”
“No, it’s fine.” You smiled.
“So, give me your number so I can let you know when I get your new phone.” He said as the elevator came to a stop. “Oh, you don’t have one.” He laughed as he watched your expressionless face. “Wanna come to my place to talk about it?”
He held the door open, waiting for your reaction, and immediately smiled as you walked out of the elevator with him. He opened his door for you, letting you step inside, then got in and closed it behind him.
“Make yourself at home.” He said as he passed in front of you, taking his shirt off. Oh, bloody hell.
Oh, fuckfuckfuck. Shit. He was so fine. No, fine was an understatement. His body was definitely sculpted by gods, definitely. He was absolutely breathtaking, he was ripped and toned in all the right places, and the scars on his torso only enhanced his attractiveness. He was the living embodiment of attractiveness.
You blinked desperately, trying to look away.
“Wow, this… this is not-” you choked out.
“What’s wrong with ‘ya?” He asked, coming back with a new shirt in hands and a really, really wide grin. Something about him playing innocent was flipping something inside of you. He made sure to stay right in front of you as he put a dry shirt on.
You looked away in embarrassment, you must’ve been overthinking.
“Want some tea?” He asked, snapping you back to reality. You nodded, and he went to the kitchen.
You sat on his couch, looking around his apartment, finding a few pictures of people in the army. “You don’t spend a lot of time here, do you?” You asked as he came back with two mugs in his hand.
“What makes you think that?” He handed you a mug.
You pointed at the dusty frame and he walked to your side, picking it up. “Where’s you?”
“Who do you think it’s me?” He chuckled. There was a man in a skull mask, holding a dog to his shoulder, and your little frown was adorable to his eyes. He pointed towards him, and you made an unsurprised ‘ah’.
“I knew it, the tattoos gave it away.” You smiled, watching as he put the frame down again.
“Yes, they did.” He mumbled, chuckling his way to the couch, where he gestured for you to sit.
“I have to say, you look better without the mask, by the way.”
“Thanks. It’s uncomfortable to wear it.”
“I believe…”
The next minutes passed with an awkward silence until he finally spoke again.
“So, I don’t know a lot about phones. I suggest we go out together to get you a new one.”
That smooth bastard.
“Like a date.” You said.
“Like me taking you out to get a new phone.”
“A date.” You laughed.
He sighed, rubbing his temple.
“Yes, a date.”
#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod x reader#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#cod fanfic#simon riley#cod modern warfare#ghost simon riley#ghost x reader
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classmate au | lee heeseung
❝ hey, i’ll go ahead. i have to walk (name) home. ❞
HEESEUNG | jay | jake | sunghoon | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki
look…. i know this says classmate au
BUT but but but hear me out
he’s your senior
maybe a year or two years older
AND he’s your neighbor, next door neighbor lee heeseung
do you see where i’m going with this
he walks you home to school every morning and every after class
your parents r also pretty close so you’re always hanging by each other’s house
THO he’s more of like an unattainable senior so handsome 😞😞 yall dont talk much when you’re having that little family get together
he tries talking to u tho … but you run away pretty fast
it’s always that awkward sitting beside each other while your parents talk to each other
…. awkward eye contact
SO YEAH he walks you to school every morning and after class by your mom’s request
heeseung always walks by the side of the road like the gentleman he is
will pull you by the waist when you attempt to even walk on that side so he can switch you two
and always waits for you outside your class or by the student council office to walk you home
sometimes 💔💔💔💔 during basketball practice … he does that thing where he goes home ahead so he can walk u home
the moment you walk into the basketball gym, wide eyes searching for heeseung ?!
he’s already dismissing himself .. saying goodbye to his friends and the couch and slinging your bag on his shoulder
you think he only views you as a little sister this SUCKS !!!!!
ah you are so wrong.
oh also lee heeseung student athlete and face of the school, just thought i’d mention
sometimes, he even appears in your classes to assist the teacher like what CAN’T he do
the teacher encounters some tech difficulties with the powerpoint???
“hey (name), can you call heeseung?”
you quietly slip out of the classroom and hurry to his
(he gave you his class schedule in case you ever needed anything… so you know where to find him…)
“excuse me, mr. hwang is looking for heeseung?” you’d tell the teacher
and their whole class would burst into SCREAMS and teasing as heeseung is pushed towards the door
“hey, you okay? how was your day?” he’d always catch up with you in that small time
dear god please have mercy.
he’d have a hand on the small of your waist to guide you along the hallways too
AND TUTORING
Lee Heeseung who is naturally good at everything is also smart
he tutors you at his house after class when you’re having a hard time
as a reward, sometimes, you guys would play video games
you ended up falling asleep at his house once and heeseung had to tell his mom to call yours so she wouldn’t worry
you wake up to blankets draped all over you and heeseung sleeping on the floor i’m so sad
karaoke is always fun in these family outings bc your family always makes you sing duets
atp you guys have every disney and broadway duets DOWN and memorized
though it does make you blush and all giggly when he makes intense eye contact while seeing to you
“now she’s here, shining in the starlight. now she’s here, suddenly i know. if she’s here, it’s crystal clear, i’m where i’m meant to go.”
he is a fantastic singer and he makes you forget to sing your parts sometimes
ALWAYS ENDS A SONG IN A HUG while your parents violently clap in the background
during the sports festival, the teachers ltrly let him join all the sports and he just accepts 😭😭
if he’s not playing, he’s facilitating
“do you have an event for this year’s sports festival?” he’d ask one night as he’s walking you home
“oh no. i’m just joining the cheer contest with sunoo on the first day.”
“do you think you could cheer for me?”
HE’S ASKING YOU TO CHEER FOR HIM
of course you say yes
and his eyes are on you in every sport he plays
basketball… volleyball… badminton… you name them all!
he’d look to you before serving the ball and point at you when he shoots a ball in bkb
heeseung would win every game for you
because the thrill in your smile is too wide to disappoint
and also because he has a big fat crush on you
goes to hug you after every game
“my good luck charm” as he liked to call you
BYEEEEEE bye leave me alone please
you’re HIS good luck charm
you pretend to be annoyed because he’s sweating so he teases you by hugging you even more
he lets you hold his spare shirt AND lets you wear his spare jersey ……
by the end of the week, he wins a shit ton of medals and a trophy for being the MVP
lets you wear some of his medals 😭😭 honestly maybe even all of them
would come to you after the awarding and take off his medals to put it around your neck too
OBLIGATORY SPORTS FESTIVAL PICTURE WITH YOUR CRUSH
you guys hold the trophy together … he has an arm around you … like he ltrly has the poses thought out already
asks you to be his girlfriend on the walk back home
handcrafted you a medal already in case you’ll say yes
engraved on it is “best girlfriend”
damn you’ve only been together like a few hours and he already awarded you best girlfriend
honestly congratulations
you bagged face of the school and student athlete senior lee heeseung
note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! i just thought it looked rly cute and coherent. let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy
#k-labels#heeseung x reader#heeseung fanfic#enhypen x reader#enhypen heeseung#lee heeseung fic#heeseung headcanons#heeseung x you#lee heeseung x you#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung x y/n#lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung x reader#enhypen fanfic#enhypen imagines#enhypen headcanons#enhypen headcanon#reader insert#enhypen x you#fluff#classmates to lovers#classmates au#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enhypen reactions#enhypen hcs#enhypen blurbs
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the best thing
summary - you hate harry after that one night together, but when you need someone the most he will always be there
a/n : mentions of sexual assault, quite intense scenes, crying, angst, drunkeness
word count : +3.8k
pairing : ceo!harry x reader
You don’t know how you got here.
One minute you were eating crisps at home and watching reruns of Friends, then the next thing you know you’re at an exclusive event in the centre of London with your best friend; Leia.
Apparently, your best friend is now dating some actor who is in with all the A-list celebrities and so she can get into all these cool events now.
This party was hosted by none other than Harry Styles, billionaire and CEO of StylesTech. He happened to be the one man on Earth who you absolutely despised. Well, maybe he wasn’t the only one.
Harry became a celebrity when he got put on the front cover of GQ’s magazine for sexiest man alive four times. That’s right… four.
Harry was friends with James, your best friends new boyfriend, and had said she could also invite a plus one. The more the merrier was what Leia had said over the phone.
Now you were here.
Some rooftop bar in the heights of London. The lighting was very low, the music was very loud and the room was completely packed.
There was a dance floor where people were grinding more than dancing. There was a bar, which apparently was a free-bar. There was panoramic views of the city and tiny people below, making you feel like a Goddess up here in the clouds.
“We’re going to get drinks, you coming?” Leia asked you, James tugging on her hand to move them through the crowd.
“Yeah.” You nodded and grabbed onto her open hand.
You weaved through the crowds, apologising for people you bumped into.
You felt slightly too single here. Everyone seemed to be clinging onto someone and yet you were clinging on to a couple - third-wheeling to be precise.
When you reached the bar Leia and James ordered together, leaving you wait for another waiter to come to help you.
You waited a few more moments, before someone whistled behind you like they were calling over a dog.
“Oi, Henry. Serve this lady now.”
You turned around with a disgusted look on your face, only to be met with Harry Styles in front of you. He smirked at you when he noticed your facial expression.
You scoffed and turned back to Henry. “Don’t worry yourself about me. You can finish whatever job you were doing, hun.” You smiled at the young boy, who looked terrified of his boss behind you.
“No, he won’t.” Harry came and stood beside you. “She’ll have a vodka cranberry with ice.”
“She has a fucking name. Prick.” You mumbled the last word under your breath. “Sorry, Henry. I��ll actually have a Long Island Ice Tea, please. Thank you.”
Henry was off, probably to get away from Harry and make your drink.
“Sure your tolerance can handle a Long Island?” Harry laughed beside you.
“Don’t act like you know me, Harry.” You sneered his name.
“Oh, but I do know you. Don’t I? Know you very, very, well.”
You huffed, trying to not let his words effect you.
You knew exactly what he was talking about. Specifically, the night he was talking about. It had been one night back when you were working in a rival tech company. You had been issued to attend a conference weekend, there had been limited numbers of rooms and Harry - the gentleman at the time - had offered you a space in his room.
That night you had too many vodka cranberries and ended up sleeping with Harry that night - although not much literal sleeping actually happened.
The point of hatred for Harry occurred when he left in the morning after you’d confessed that you could see yourself liking him. You’d offered yourself to him for a date together and all he said was; ‘I don’t do seconds.’
Hence, the birth of the hatred for GQs sexiest man alive x4.
“That was one night, years ago. Wasn’t anything to remember.” You sneered.
You lied. It was actually one of the best nights of your life and no one has been as good since.
“Except it was. You didn’t scream that much because you were hating it.” Harry sipped on his glass of whiskey.
“You’re a fucking pig.” You grabbed your drink that Henry had given to you now. “Stay away from me, Harry.”
“Then why did you come to my party?”
“I’m here because of Leia, not you.”
You scoffed and walked off, leaving Harry leaning against the bar in his gorgeous suit to stare at you as you walked away.
The little black dress and heels would do wonders for the power walk away from him. He could see what he has been missing.
You saw Leia and James standing at a table and went over to join them.
“Hey.” You said on approach.
“Hey babes.” Leia smiled as James wrapped his arm around Leia’s waist.
“Cosmo?” You asked, pointing to Leia’s drink.
“You know it. And what the fuck did you get?”
“Long Island.”
“Do you even like them?” Leia laughed.
“No.”
“Then why—”
To prove a point. “Dunno.” You shrugged, taking a sip and feeling sick already from how disgusting the drink was.
“Oh hey man.” James unwrapped his arm around Leia to shake hands with someone. Unfortunately for you, it happened to be the one man you were trying to stay away from.
“Hey. How are you?” Harry asked as they bro hugged.
“Good, good yeah. This is my girlfriend, Leia.” James introduced her.
Leia smiled politely, shaking his hand, and you suddenly wished you’d told her that the story behind the ‘One-Night-Stand’ guy had been this guy. “Hello. Great party.”
“Thanks.”
“And this is Y/N, Leia’s best friend.” James introduced you, not realising that you didn’t need an introduction.
Harry stuck his hand out for you. If you didn’t shake it someone would know something is wrong, so you could your hand in Harry’s and tried to ignore the soft skin against yours. Instead, you tightly squeezed as if you were trying to strangle his hand.
“Lovely to meet you, Y/N.”
You just tightly smiled, not feeling like returning the sentiment.
“Have we met before? You look very… familiar.” Harry had the cheek to say to you. He was an evil man.
“No. You don’t really have a face that I’d remember.” You pulled your hand away from him in disgust.
“Oh really? I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
“It’s not.” You smiled, returning to your drink and trying not to gag with how awful it tasted.
“Uh, so, what are you drinking Harry?” Leia asked, clearly sensing some tension between you.
“Vodka cranberry.”
“Ah no way! That’s our Y/Ns favourite drink.” Leia smiled genuinely.
“How coincidental.” Harry faked a shocked face.
“Yeah. Truly.” You rolled your eyes.
“You two must be soulmates or something.”
“That would require two people going on an actual date.” You stabbed into the conversation.
“I guess..” Leia looked awkward now.
“Your capable of going on a date, aren’t you Harry?” You innocently questioned, turning to face him.
Harry’s nostrils flared and it looked like he was biting back from saying something brass. Instead of speaking, he shot back a good half of his drink.
“Lovely speaking to you, Leia. James, we’ll catch up in a bit.” Harry nodded his head to them both. You didn’t miss how he didn’t acknowledge you as he left the table in a hurry.
You breathed a sigh of relief after he’d gone.
“What the fuck was that about?” Leia asked you immediately.
“What?” You asked dumbly.
“You and Harry. The sexual tension was insane!”
James nodded his head in agreement.
“Don’t be silly.”
“Y/N… C’mon. I’ve seen a penis and a vagina have less sexual tension than you and Harry. Get a fucking room next time.” Leia fanned herself.
“I give up.” You shook your head and downed the rest of your disgusting drink.
“Where are you going?” James asked.
“To find a fourth wheel for me.”
•••••
Twelves minutes later and you’d managed to find someone to spend the rest of your night with.
His name was Jordan and he was very good company. Attractive company too.
You two were cornered away in the back of the room in a circular booth. A tray of shots lay empty in front of you and another tray contained full ones.
You were playing a drinking game to get to know each other and now you were absolutely spinning. Your head had taken a hit after the fifth shot and now you were nine deep and couldn’t stop yourself.
“M-my turn.” You laughed as you hiccuped.
“Okay.”
Jordan sat close to you, his arm wrapped around the back of the booth where you were sat. His eyes were deep brown and his hair was light blonde. He looked the complete opposite of Harry, which maybe was subconsciously a choice.
“Favourite sex position?” You giggled immaturely.
“Hmm. Doggy. I actually hate seeing a girls face when we’re fucking.” He replied and you had to take a shot because he answered honestly.
That should’ve been your first red flag about Jordan.
You just laughed instead.
“My turn. Have you ever masturbated?”
“Alllll the time. No guy does it for me anymore.” You laughed sadly.
Jordan took his shot and then moved in closer towards you. You tilted your head so he could speak into your ear.
“I could fix that problem for you.”
Your eyes bugged at his forwardness.
“No thanks.” You shook your head and laughed to try and keep it civil.
“Oh c’mon. You’ve been flirting with me all night and you know it.” His hand dropped onto your shoulders and pulled himself closer. His other hand dropped onto your bare thigh and started rubbing up and down on your soft skin.
“No I haven’t!” You laughed the situation off.
“You have. And I bet you’re all excited ‘cause of it.”
He started moving his hand further up your leg. Due to your toxic alcohol intake your reaction times were a little slower, but when his hand had made it underneath your dress-skirt you gasped and tried to tug his hand away.
“No. Please stop.” You said softly, whining as he tried to push his hand higher.
His face came closer again and he started to kiss your cheek. You tried to move your face away but his other hand was there to trap you and keep you close.
You started to worry because of how dark it was and how hidden away you were. Everyone was busy dancing and drinking away and none the wiser about the situation you were in.
“Give in, you tease.” His hot breath felt disgusting against your skin.
“I said no. Please.”
You struggled to push him off. Both your hands were focusing on his hand on your leg that you couldn’t do much to get his face away from yours.
“You’ve been teasing me all night and now we get to play.” He laughed.
Tears formed in your eyes as you kept pushing and pushing and pushing. You kept saying no over and over again, but Jordan was just not listening.
He felt disgusting on you and it made you feel just as disgusting.
Jordan just kept laughing whilst you were crying.
An employee caught your eye - in fact, it was Henry. You thought he might’ve come over to you and help, since he could clearly see you crying and struggling with Jordan on you, but instead he turned and walked away.
You sobbed then, thinking that might’ve been your only chance to get help and he just left.
You wondered whether it was because Harry was a dick to him.
You closed your eyes and tried to think of happy thoughts as Jordan started attacking your neck.
You tried to think of Harry. It wasn’t hard.
He was constantly on your mind.
“You taste so good. Stop denying me all of you.” Jordan bit your neck too harshly to be pleasurable.
“Jordan, no!” You shoved with all your strength and managed to completely get him off. You were pissed now. Your mascara may have run, your eyes red and blotchy, your breath shaky, but that was all he was getting from you.
“No?” Jordan scoffed. “NO?”
Jordan grabbed your cheeks and pulled you towards him.
“Ow.” You mumbled through his harsh grip.
“Listen here you little bi—”
“The fuck is going on here?”
Jordan dropped your face and straightened his jacket, whilst you turned your head to find who you already knew was there; Harry.
His voice had sent a wave of calmness through your body the second he started speaking. Now he was standing there with a deathly look on his face you couldn’t help but feel relief.
And you noticed Henry standing behind him, looking just as angry.
“Hi boss. Just having fun.” Jordan responded.
Harry looked between Jordan and you. Jordan looked dazed and content, whilst you looked broken and scared.
“Are you okay?” Harry looked intensely at you.
“She’s fi—”
“I wasn’t fucking speaking to you, was I?” Harry rhetorically asked. “Y/N, come here, love.”
Harry held out his hand, palm facing up.
You made no hesitation as you weakly moved away from Jordan and towards Harry.
Harry helped you stand up and kept a tight hold on your hand. It grounded you, his touch.
“Can I touch you? Just on your face?” Harry asked you softly and you nodded.
Harry cautiously held your chin and moved your head to the side, noticing the red mark and blood on your neck. He hadn’t taken note of your legs yet, but he would come to find red marks on them too.
Your teary eyes were wiped by Harry’s careful thumb. You looked down at his shoes the entire time, too afraid to look at him. You knew you’d crumble if you did.
“Are you okay?” He asked you again.
“No.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I-I was really scared, Harry.” Your voice broke and Harry immediately cupped the back of your head and brought you into his chest. You collapsed there and Harry’s hands held you up strong.
“You’re okay now. I’m here, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Harry said, whilst nodding his head discreetly to the two security men.
They came over within seconds and yanked Jordan out of the booth. His protests were no match for the security guys. As he was being escorted out, Harry stopped him to say “See you in court.”
After Harry had thanked Henry with a nod and smile, he walked the small distance over to the same booth and sat down on the edge of it, pulling you to sit on his lap.
Your body was still wracking with sobs, but only because the adrenaline of the situation had been too much for you.
Now you knew you were safe, it was too much.
Harry made you feel safe.
He rocked you as he held you. It was too loud to have a quiet, serious, conversation, but his actions spoke loud anyways. I’m here. You’re safe. It’s okay now.
You heard Harry shout to someone for a glass of cold water, which was brought back to you within a minute.
"Here, sunshine, drink this." Harry spoke closely to you so you could hear.
He held the glass up to your lips and tipped it back slowly for you. Your hands were too shaky to hold onto it yourself, but you managed to drink carefully with the help of Harry.
He even knew when you'd had enough.
Harry's hand cupped the side of your head and brought you to rest back onto his chest. His head stayed rested on top of yours and you both just sat like that for ten minutes or so. It was hard to know exactly how long.
You just sat and thought about everything that had happened tonight and everything that could have happened. Mixed with that, your brain was constantly thinking about Harry and how much, no matter how hard you try otherwise, you like him.
Your heart feels constantly pulled towards him. He's like a beacon in the middle of a storm, safely guiding you towards home.
Just as those thoughts were circling your mind, Harry made his move.
He told you he was going to stand up, so you let yourself slide off his legs onto your own shaky ones. You thought he might be leaving you to go back and mingle with the other guests, so you stood shy to the side.
Harry leaned over to Henry and whispered something in his ear to which Henry nodded.
Before you could make plans as to what you were going to do now, Harry held out his hand to you again - giving you a choice to take it or not. Of course, you took it.
He squeezed your hand in reassurance and then lead you off and out of the room.
You two made no conversation as you wandered out of the noisy room and into a quiet staircase. Harry started walking up the stairs, so you followed him.
It was another two minutes before you made it to the top of the stairs and through a door that led to a rooftop. It was only very small. It overlooked the city skyline, with hundreds of twinkling lights casting shadows over the small space.
There were twinkling fairy lights too, up here. They were knotted around various creeping wall plants like ivy. In the corner of the square space there was a big L-shaped sofa with plenty of cushions and throws.
Harry turned back to smile at you, leading you to the sofa.
He sat down and let go of your hand, allowing you to choose where to sit.
You took one last glance at the skyline and up to the moon, before deciding.
"Wanna sit next to you." You said in a small voice.
"Okay." Harry smiled perfectly.
He shuffled back into the corner of the L-shaped sofa, sitting up and letting his legs stretch out on the chair in front of him. He patted his lap next with a smile. You shuffled over to him and sat on his lap, perpendicular to the way he was sitting so your legs stretched out along the other length of the chair.
"Comfortable?" He asked.
"Mhm."
Harry wasn't too sure though, and next thing you knew he was gathering a couple of blankets to throw over your legs and shoulders.
"Better. Thank you." You nodded.
"You're welcome."
"It's beautiful up here."
"I guess it is."
"Is it all yours?" You questioned.
"What? Everything up here?"
You nodded. Harry then took your hands in his and started to play with the few rings you had on.
"No. Not everything is mine."
You looked up at him and into his eyes, noticing he was looking straight back at you.
Your breath caught in your throat as you thought about the implications to his words. You couldn't help but let a blush and smile take over your face. If he was implying what you thought he was then maybe you were in with a chance of Harry liking you back.
"What do you want to have? You're a billionaire. You could have anything you want." You asked, curiously.
"No even a billionaire can buy everything." He smiled sadly.
"Well, what do you wish you could buy even though you can't?"
Harry chuckled under his breath, "Redemption. A second chance. Love."
You tilted your head back against the sofa, your head feeling less and less drunk by the minute. You sighed, looking at the beautiful moon and wondering how lonely she must be up there.
Loneliness is something you've suffered with for far too long.
You wanted to find that connection with that someone who makes you feel wanted, feel loved and feel chosen. You craved it.
You chuckled.
"What?" Harry asked, softly caressing over the back of your hand.
"It's just funny, is all."
"What is?"
"Us, wanting the same thing. Wonder if we want it from the same people." You tilted your head to the side to face Harry, watching him lick his lips as he looked at yours not-so-subtly.
"You already know we do." Harry said quietly, leaning in towards you.
Your breath hitched as he got closer, your heart beating faster than your brain was processing the motions. You knew you wanted to kiss Harry as badly as he wanted to kiss you, but not like this. Not yet, at least.
"Harry, wait..." You said, watching him stop immediately.
"Fuck. Shitting, fuck. Sorry, Y/N. That was completely inappropriate of me. I mean.. After... Tonight and us... and...."
Harry shot back to his original position and ran a stressed hand over his face as he tried to work through his thoughts.
You smiled as you watched him panic, before taking his stressed hands in yours and kissing the back of it softly - right over that small triage of freckles you knew sat pretty there.
"Hey. It's okay." You reassured him. "I'm not stopping you because of what happened this evening. I'm stopping you because I feel I deserve to know why I wasn't enough the first time around."
This was you standing up for yourself.
"Weren't enou-.. Y/N, love. God, I was such a dick. I never, ever, left you because I thought you weren't enough. I left because I didn't think I was. I was a nobody back then. I looked at you and saw someone who could literally be the epitome of sunshine, and then I looked at me and all I saw was a dark cloud that would cover you. I never thought someone as bright, as happy and as golden as you should ever have to be with someone like me. Hell, it's still a thought that niggles away at the back of my mind. But, I've learnt that I can't let those thoughts win. I owe it you myself, and definitely to you, to at least try."
"Well that was as good as apologies get." You sniffled, trying to hold back the happy tears.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, for our wasted years. I... I just wasn't ready for us back then and I know I was a prick about it."
"You were. A right big prick."
Harry wiggled his eyebrows and you had to fake punch him for it.
"I'm sorry." He said honestly. "And I'm sorry for tonight too."
"That wasn't your fault, okay? I promise." You squeezed his hand.
"Okay. I'm still suing that motherfucker though."
"You're a billionaire already!"
"So? I was going to donate the money to a sexual assault charity or something." He shrugged his shoulders like what he just said was no big deal - like he hadn't just shown his truest heart.
"You're a good person, Harry, who deserves good things." You moved closer to him.
"I am?"
"Mhm."
"Do these 'good things' include you?"
"I don't know. Do you think I'm a good thing?" You teased him.
Harry leaned in closer. "No. I think you're the best."
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles ceo#ceo harry styles#ceo!harry#harry styles fic
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i eat your skin - f.megumi
part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection
…
warnings - cunnilingus (fem reader), title sounds like vore smut but it isn't i promise
word count - 3.7 K / rating - R
Megumi braces his hands on his knees, brows pinched tight in preemptive annoyance. Satoru spindles over him, shadowing the younger man almost completely - and it only serves to irritate Megumi that he’d refused to sit down. Furiously determined to forever humiliate his former pupil, Megumi assumes.
Or, he would, if Satoru hadn’t actually agreed to give him advice about a little… situation.
“Alright, now when you see her, look at me- seriously, look at me, Megumi,” Satoru’s face is lethally drawn, usual bright grin tugged low and serious with furrowed brows to match, “Megumi, you cannot let her intimidate you,” Megumi opens his mouth, a vile retort slithers back down his throat when Satoru interrupts, “No, I know you, and you’ll feel all sick,” he mocks a frown, even pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, “You’ll get all nervous. But you cannot let her intimidate you out of it.”
“I’ll hardly die asking her out,” Megumi rolls his eyes, one hand lathering the sweat in his palms against his sweatpants and the other scratching the back of his neck, “Maybe this just isn’t a good idea…”
“And what? Be a miserable wimp the rest of your life?” Satoru folds his arms across his chest, “You’ve liked her since you were first years.”
“And?”
“You’re graduates now!”
“So?”
“‘So,’” Satoru mimics Megumi’s sulking nature, voice deep and neanderthal-ish in nature, “Be greedier, kid!” he flicks the younger man’s forehead, “You’ll die one day. You’ll die. Whether it be on a mission, or in your hospital bed as a diseased old man - you can’t stop it. So, why deprive yourself of something you really want when it all ends the same?”
Megumi can’t exactly pinpoint the reason he even came to his old legal guardian for help over, say, Nanami. He definitely should’ve gone to Nanami, at least he could’ve given Megumi genuine advice that isn’t some children’s show morale of “just tell her how you feel!” - he could’ve done that any day.
When Megumi opens his mouth to protest, Satoru flicks him again.
“You think your special one,” Megumi gags loudly at the title, and Satoru pays it no mind, “is gonna sit around her entire life not having fun and being young? Getting dates?” Satoru nods to himself when Megumi doesn’t reply, “Duh.”
“I want this to be special,” Megumi insists, both hands coming to rest in his lap now, he squeezes them together, lacing his fingers and imagining how yours would look with him instead, “I want- “
He wants and wants and wants and does nothing.
He needs to be someone you simply can’t fathom saying no to, he needs it so bad his stomach churns just like Satoru said it would.
“Alright, I know it can be difficult for you - not being me, after all,” a large hand claps on Megumi’s shoulders and he looks up to see the beaming face attached, “But trust me, kid, this whole idea of a ‘special’ confession is archaic bullshit compared to just being yourself.”
“I thought girls liked special confessions?”
“Sexist: not all girls automatically like the same things,” his former teacher shakes his head, sighing out each disappointed fiber trapped in his soul, “And if she doesn’t accept a plain, Megumi-style date proposition, then her shock and awe over a sick-as-hell graphic novel confession isn’t going to make for a healthy relationship.”
“Hm,” Megumi bites back frustrated curses, taking the words and molding them into a more conventional way that actually makes sense. He nods, “Okay.”
“Exactly,” Satoru stands back, giving Megumi room to rise from his bed, “Oh, but one thing that does help?” the older man grins wickedly, “Eat her out. Direct line to a woman’s heart is through eating her pussy.”
“Shut up,” Megumi huffs, pointing at his wide-open bedroom door, “Shut up. Shut up and get the hell out.”
“Jeez,” Satoru yanks at the already loose collar of his plain black shirt, “I thought we left teen angst behind. Just give it some thought! And also, I wanted to ask- “
Megumi huffs, falling back onto his bed, still pointing at the door.
“If,” and in true fashion, Satoru continues, maybe even a little louder (just to prove a point), “you wanted to watch a movie?”
“No,” Megumi immediately answers.
“C’mon! It’s this or paperwork I have to do.”
Megumi’s eye roll gives Satoru no more room for pleading, and so he stalks back to the living room. Dragging his socked feet over a shaggy black rug towards the door, he takes a final peek over his shoulder at the boy on his bed. Stupid mouth in a stupid pout and stupid nose forcing stupid crocodile sniffles, Satoru acts out a picturesque performance. And if his blindfold were off, Megumi is certain he’d catch big blue eyes framed by batting white lashes.
“No, “ Megumi rolls his eyes again, “‘m going out.”
…
Blushy top with faded blue bell bottoms and a shiny, thin chain that dangles across your chest, Megumi’s eyes flit away from your figure just as quick as they’d found you. Everything’s a little murky under the purple LEDs, but he thinks you’ve worn that before. He thinks you’re somehow more beautiful now. He looks away, snaking through a narrow, picture-framed hallway at Yuuji’s back to this house’s kitchen. There are no light strips strapped across the kitchen walls, simple and plain and unflattering fluorescent bulbs send a gentle cream wash over the walls.
With only a handful of straggling bodies leaning against peeling-edged faux wood cabinets and spotted countertops, there’s more room to breathe than in the hall. Red Solo cups from every teen movie nightmare decorate hands and unnerving corners. Some more anxious part of him wants to reach out and push every precarious ruby further back into secure landing, but he doesn’t.
Two women in complimentary spaghetti strap dresses flounce out of the kitchen with looped arms. They’re sunk into the plum tank until Megumi can’t see them at all anymore.
“Oh, like that!” you muse, nudging your chin towards a pair in matching floral print dresses that reach about mid-thigh, “Exactly my point.”
“That’s hardly 70s influenced,” the man in front of you - Jirou? Junto? Jouji? you don’t really recall - shakes his head, “Just flowers.”
“No, no, look at the trim,” you’re trying your hardest not to point but this guy just cannot pinpoint the details in your mind to save his life, “It’s flowy and mesh. Sort of. That’s a little more flower child era, right?”
“I guess, if your only experience in that fashion was movies,” you huff at the response and he laughs in the face of such exasperation.
“Whatever! You’re so difficult.”
“Hobby,” it’s so plain out of his lips. Like you should somehow be expecting that snark.
“Oh my God…” you can hardly believe someone could be so obtuse. A contrarian just for the fun of it, “And are you normally invited to parties for that?”
“Oh, no,” his tone, again, betrays some delusion that you should already know the answer, but this time you do already know. Who invites a conversation killer to an event? “I got dragged here by a friend. Don’t even know who the host is.”
You snicker, one hand smothering the sight of your mouth, “That makes more sense.”
Megumi can see the hand that binds, you usually don’t string it up around those you’re close with. Like Yuuji and Nobara and Maki and Miwa from Kyoto and your friends that live closer to the coast and the friends that don’t and your parents and him. So you’d think he’d know better than to let a big, gangly, clawed, green beast sprout and grow and suck away at his gut.
Even though that hand is a sign of some rising desire to be out of that conversation, he still hates being across the room when it happens. Because that’s still some semblance of a shining star behind the flesh. Some laugh or smile he’s not next to.
And it isn’t like he hates when you’re out with others. What he hates is being in the same room with someone potentially more captivating than he is.
He hopes you like him best because he’s the most familiar and drawing, and it’s disturbing when someone else might be more homely and more charming and more absorbing. He hates the curdling illness of jealousy and he hates to be this way when you two aren’t even together, but most of all he hates that maybe you’ll prefer someone else simply because they’re better at his craft than he is.
So Megumi watches and rots quietly with thick, spindling vines spreading and tangling him to the kitchen doorway as you talk to a guy whose name he doesn’t know. It’s pathetic and waning most unbearably.
“Stop staring, it’s weird,” Yuuji chastises, chunking part of his weight against Megumi’s side, an elbow shelved on Megumi’s shoulder, “Just go up and say something, if you wanna talk to her.”
“Yeah, it’s that easy,” Megumi jerks through the vines and into the hungry waters of a living room party with a snapping, starved crowd before finding the optimal spot: a plain wall with no posters or pictures to snag and smack down.
Yuuji trails after, his white shirt reflecting a blinding shade of lavender from beneath his puffer jacket. Much easier to track down than Megumi’s gloomy, funeral-grade attire. Yuuji capitalizes on the empty space so ugly at Megumi’s side, staking claim to the wall with a huff, “It is, by the way. You two are friends. Go tell her you’re here.”
“But then I’d have to,” Megumi’s mouth zips shut, head tilting as he snakes a hand through some imaginary crowd.
“I guess,” Yuuji wants to shake Megumi at times like this. He wants to shake you too, sometimes. But mostly he imagines squeezing Megumi’s shoulders and smacking him around, but he never does.
Maybe just the first part.
All out of love.
“Okay,” so Yuuji pivots, swerving in front of his best friend and taking one shoulder in each hand, “You need to do something or you’re going to sit here and be pouty, dude.”
“I’m not pouty.”
“Biggest lie in Tokyo, brother,” Yuuji purses his lips, eyes flitting to where you are, “I’ll get her over here if you really don’t want to.”
“Hm?” Megumi’s brows furrow, neck craning closer as if he could somehow mishear the man.
“Just pretend to be busy or some shit and I’ll brave the crowd,” Yuuji goes to walk away, suddenly pausing and placing a hand over Megumi’s heart, “And if I don’t return, sing songs for me by a nice lake every anniversary.”
“Whatever,” Megumi knocks away the hand but is already pulling out his phone to perform the charade. His eyes lock onto the screen and he soldiers on to not rip them away and give slight that this was planned.
…
“Do you think I could maybe get your number?”
“Oh!” no, God no - you wish you were better at saying that, “Uh,” it’s not even as if you dislike this guy, you just don’t think any conversation with him could amount past what it has.
Wow, you’re a pain in the ass! Yeah but it’s funny, right? Not if it’s on purpose. Especially if it’s on purpose! Sure, if that’s what you think. You do think it’s funny, right? Sure. Come on, it is! Sure.
And dry replies make you want to claw your eyes out more when you have to give them than when you receive them.
So when the bony fingers of Yuuji creep upon your side, it’s like the first drink of water after sifting through thick bowls and hills of sandy desert. He leans his head down into your peripheral, grinning brightly, “Miss me?”
“Yuuji!” you cheer, turning to… Junsei? and laying a flat palm under Yuuji’s chin, “This is my buddy, who I didn’t know was coming.”
“I texted you,” he pinches your side, “Fushiguro’s busy, so I’m fetching you for the night,” and you wonder if he might feel the stiffness of your muscles and the rigid air, “Sorry, man, but she’s got serious business tonight!”
“Oh,” Junzo! Junzo’s forehead crinkles, nose wrinkling at the bluntness of this cocky new stranger, “Uh…”
“See you around,” maybe it’s a lie, maybe it isn’t. You wave and let Yuuji keep you pressed to his side. You wait until you’re certain the surrounding affairs of other people drown whatever you could say to Yuuji, “Thank you for that. He was asking for my number and I just didn’t know what to say…”
“No,’” he shrugs.
“Oh, like you could’ve done that.”
“I could’ve!”
But Yuuji can do anything, so that isn’t fair.
“‘gumi!” you cheer upon getting close to the boy, arms splaying wide before wringing yourself around his neck, “I was worried you weren’t coming!”
He hesitates before having the misfortune to hear Satoru’s words once again. Be greedier. Be greedier. So he gently settles both hands on your back, pushing you chest-to-chest, “Yeah, well, Itadori wouldn’t let me stay in.”
“Poor baby,” you step back, and Megumi takes notice in how you maintain your hands’ position over his shoulders, nails picking at fluff on his shirt.
Megumi, regrettably, can still hear Satoru in the back of his head. Greedier, greedier, greedier. It chokes him up, the idea of selfishly taking you for himself. But what really grips him is the terrible way your gaze flits from his face to other men - unintentionally, he’s sure. But it drives him wild all the same.
“I hate big parties,” Megumi boldly cradles the bend of your waist with his hand, fingers splaying wide over the curve. He tugs you closer, thighs nearly brushing, “Crowd’s a pain in the ass.”
“Ah, no, c’mon, what’s that Great Gatsby quote?” who’s to say, he hasn't read that book, “‘I like large parties. They’re so intimate…’” you shrug, bottom lip tugging between your teeth when he doesn’t show any recognition, “‘At small parties there isn’t any privacy.’”
“You actually remembered that shit?”
You titter coyly, “Maybe I saw it on one of those book quotes videos. Maybe I remembered it.”
“Well, it’s a stupid quote. There’s too much noise at big parties, it’s hard to hear people.”
“You hear me just fine,” that’s just because he’s leaning closer and trying harder than he does for most people, “Besides, I like it. At big parties you can just fuck off and do your own thing, you know? At small parties there’s this expectation to be around everyone and interact with everyone and be having fun with the group.”
Finally, it seems to click, he nods slowly, “You like to get away from the crowd?”
“Yeah,” you scratch the side of your arm, then your neck, and it’s so odd how just thinking about how uncomfortable your skin is that you can get so itchy, “Hard to do that when the crowd’s five people and a dog.”
“Well,” Megumi can feel Yuuji’s stare, and it takes everything in him to not knock the kid up his skull, “If you wanna get away, I’m sure - uh,” he’s suddenly humiliated by his own hubris, “I’m sure there’s room… upstairs…”
You grace him with a patient nod, hands lowering from his shoulders to lace your fingers together, “I’m sure there is.”
…
“So…”
“So…”
Megumi nods, head slowly tilting so he’s staring up at you through his long lashes, “So.”
You lean closer, shoulder pressing and nose bumping against his, “So?”
The heat from Megumi’s cheeks wavers over you, his flesh ripe with crimson. You want to bite him. Leave a terrible mark that he couldn’t possibly cover up; maybe he’d let it bleed through his dark shirt. Maybe he’d let you lick it clean.
“You look nice,” he tucks his face down, heated skin now flush against your top. His brows furrow, uncertain, “Really nice.”
Megumi wonders what Satoru or Yuuji would do. They’re greedier than him by nature. More outgoing.
They would’ve done something years ago.
Suddenly, you grin. All sharp teeth and nails pricking over his thigh, through his pants. Your eyes stare down at him over the bridge of your nose, and you lean closer - smothering any space he’d initially put between your bodies.
“Are you gonna do something about it?”
Megumi’s eyes widen, warmth beating over his face and the back of his neck. He flails for a response, trapped under your piercing gaze, before finally settling on a response that he hopes pleases you.
“Do you want me to?”
You frown; something in his chest stings, a chord pulled awry. The tug of your lips is all a ploy, a mesmerizing color to disguise venom, “Don’t you want to, ‘gumi?” you pull away, leaning back with your hands pressed to the mattress below, “Don’t you want me?”
A cold breeze from this stranger’s open window takes up residence across Megumi’s sweltering skin. He hates it. He wants to get up from the bed altogether and slam the window shut. He wants to take you in both hands and sink himself into the softness of your skin. He thinks you’d be savory.
He wants to be certain.
So both of his hands mold to your hips, melting his exposed skin to yours.
Fingers dipping into the waistband of your bottoms, he bats his eyelashes and tucks his lower lip between fangs. He may draw blood. He cares not.
The oxygen is thin; hardly refreshing.
Megumi swallows the pooling want on his tongue, his fingers twitch against you, “Can I- “
“‘gumi…” you flatten yourself onto your back, hips tilting up into his palms, “Show me you want me.”
“Okay,” Megumi nods, air forced out of his throat through swollen hunger, “Okay.”
Once he’s gotten your pants off, Megumi presses open kisses against the inside of your thighs, following the swell to its natural apex. He digs the jab of his nose into you, lips impolitely fluttering against the seat of your panties before dipping his tongue out. Lolling the soft, soaked muscle over the clinging fabric, he feels his chest clench at how you rock your hips down into his face.
He feels one of your hands wind into his messy hair, carding through the softness. He wants to make you tug it - pull cruelly and grind against his face. Take what he gives and selfishly demand more.
Megumi groans heartily into your clothed cunt when the slickness of his saliva pulls your wetness from the cloth; when the unabashed taste of you meets his tongue.
He nearly rips your panties down your legs, settling it in a ball at his side. Heart leaping up into his jaw at the mere thought of getting his tongue into you.
Laving his tongue between your folds, Megumi licks up to your clit and circles the bud - his hips jerking down into the plush mattress when you jolt up and tug his hair. He pulls his head back only to pucker his lips and drool onto your hole, adding to the sloshing wetness before steadying his shaky fingers against you.
Sucking your clit into his mouth, Megumi begins softly. Caressing the bundle of nerves with his warm tongue, blending flat, broad strokes with precision dances of the muscle over you. Meanwhile, he slicks his middle finger into your hole and moans in response to your gasp.
When he’s sure you’re wet and stretched enough, he adds a second finger and curls them both upwards. The muscles in his arm will be aching tomorrow, but he shoves that to the back of his mind. He presses and scissors and dips inside you until the pads of his fingers find sponge, and he hits there, and there again. And again. And again. And again.
He hits there until you’re fully babbling, gushing against his swollen, pink lips and chin. And he’s starting to babble back.
Vibrations are loosely strewn together as ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘cum on me’ are bound against your clit as he nuzzles closer into your heat. Burying himself between your thighs and finding himself releasing a moan into your cunt when your thighs clenched tightly around his head. The fat of your thighs snug over his ears.
Releasing your clit from between his lips with a soft ‘pop’, Megumi flays his tongue onto the exposed nerve. Hot puffs of air leave him with each groan and whimper as his desperation to make you cum hammers over him.
Finally, you yank his hair again and snap your hips into his tongue; cunt sucking his fingers in even deeper. You squeeze around him, back arching, and his name singing from your lips.
Megumi unfurls his fingers as your cum splashes out onto his waiting tongue and chin, riding you through the hurls of pleasure until your twitching legs crash back onto the mattress. Slowly, he slides his fingers out of you before licking up your excess release from the divots in your thighs and your cunt.
Unwinding your fingers, you settle for soothing his stinging scalp with gentle pets.
Eventually sitting up, Megumi gasps for air as you do, staring down at his fingers. Shining with your wetness.
“Still hungry?” you tease, voice ripped at the edges.
“Actually?” Megumi shrugs, “A little.”
The cocky air has dissipated from your body. Once tense and lively limbs were now useless against the bed.
Megumi jams both fingers into his mouth and sucks off your cum.
“Insatiable!” you huff.
Rouge has overtaken Megumi’s cheeks - worse than before - and he can’t meet your eyes after having swallowed what remained of your soak. He leans over onto his elbow to avoid crushing you, “Only when it’s you… I don’t,” he waves his hand around, “do this often…”
“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”
Megumi has to hide his grin, almost embarrassed to enjoy being praised, choosing to take up time looking around the room you’d shoved him into.
Idol posters with one constant member litter the walls. Pink concert tickets cover the desk. And many pictures with the same two people overwhelm Megumi’s sight. He feels an unsettled chill scrawl over his skin.
“Todo is going to kill me,” he grimaces.
“Was it worth it?”
Megumi doesn’t take long to respond, already trying to think of where and when he can get you under him again, “Definitely.”
Megumi’s proper death is drowning via punani tsunami *thumbs up emoji*
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi smut#megumi x you#megumi fluff#fushiguro smut#fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen movie marathon event
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Could you write the beach scene where Conrad gets into a fight and instead of Belly getting hit it’s reader. Maybe she was kissing some other guy and that’s why Conrad was drinking?
Continue sending requests for Conrad/Jeremiah!! I added them to my taglists, so please get on it if you want to be notified when I post a new one. Also, season 2 is coming very soon <3 I can't wait for all the Taylor music they're gonna use again
I didn't plan on going over 1k, but my fingers slipped XD
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
Music was mixing with the soft swishes of the ocean, marking the first night of summer at Cousins’ beach. After months in the city that never sleeps, it was nice to be back. The smell of the ocean, the feeling of the sand under your feet, the calm swish of the waves, the beautiful sunsets — there were no such things in New York.
Talking about things New York didn’t have, your mouth busy kissing the cute boy you met on the boardwalk yesterday. You didn't plan on kissing him — or anyone — at the bonfire, but he smelled really good and his smile was causing a kaleidoscope in your stomach, and before you realized what was happening, he was leaning to kiss you.
His name was Benjamin…or was it Brad? God, you couldn’t remember. What you knew was the sensation of his body pressed against yours, the intertwining of tongues, and the gentle touch of his hands as they slid to your waist and effortlessly pulled you closer.
This summer was going to be amazing.
Your bubble of summer-lovin' was popped when a sudden commotion about a beer reached your ears, drawing your attention away from Brody. He whined, trying to join your lips again, but you turned your head in direction of the heated voices, one of them familiar to you.
‘’Shit,’’ you muttered under your breath, seeing Conrad shoving another guy and getting shoved back. This was not going to end well… ‘’I’ll be right back.’’
Brody nodded as you stood from the sand and went over, foolishly believing that you could mediate the altercation.
‘’Hey, Conrad that’s enou—’’ you began, only to be abruptly halted by a forceful elbow striking your cheekbone, sending you on the ground.
The sudden assault had drawn Conrad's attention away from the beer-fueled dispute, his drunken gaze fixed upon you with concern. He tried to get to you, see if you were okay, but the other guy wasn't willing to let Conrad off the hook so easily, launching a punch before he could reach your side.
‘’What the fuck is wrong with you?’’ Conrad's anger flared as he retaliated, delivering a punch of his own.
Amidst the chaos, Jeremiah caught sight of the brawl and quickly ran over to you. ‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked, extending a hand and helping you getting back on your feet, his genuine concern evident in his voice.
You nodded, wincing as you covered your aching cheekbone. It’s gonna be bruised tomorrow. Brad, having witnessed the unfortunate turn of events, also approached to offer his support. He tried to cup your face to assess the injury, but you dodged his contact.
Seeing you were relatively okay, Jeremiah pointed towards Conrad and you nodded again, silently telling him to go. You doubted he’ll be able to break the fight, but hopefully someone will come and help.
‘’You should put some ice on that,’’ Brody advised, but all you could think about was Conrad.
Getting into fights was unlike him. But he hasn’t really been himself lately…
A sudden cry of ‘’Cops!’’ echoed through the beach, instantly causing a wave of panic and dispersal among the party-ers. People fled in different directions, seeking to avoid any potential trouble with law enforcement.
While running off, you managed to get away from Brody, no longer wanting to be by his side. It was nothing personal. Old ghosts just pulled you back in.
You emerged on the road, scanning all the cars on each side until you caught the unmistakable red of Conrad's Jeep parked on the road. The backdoor on the driver side was open as Jeremian helped Conrad get in the backseat of the jeep.
‘’Jere! Wait up!’’ you called out at him.
‘’Watch your head. Your legs,’’ Jeremiah said, making sure he wouldn’t be catching any of his drunk brother’s limbs when closing the door.
Conrad grumbled, half laying down on the backseat. ‘’I know how to get into a car,’’ he muttered.
‘’Can I come with?’’ you asked, trying to not glance at Conrad. ‘’I…I don’t have a ride home.’’
Jeremiah nodded, and both of you climbed into the jeep, fastening your seatbelts before driving away.
Only to slam the brakes two seconds later and come to an abrupt halt. ‘’Fuck. Steven.’’ Jeremiah turned to you before getting out. ‘’Watch Conrad, I’ll be right back.’’
Conrad and you were in the car silently. It felt eerily quiet, and even though it was only just past one, you were completely exhausted. In the backseat, Conrad was quiet, lost in his drunken haze. Neither of you spoke for a moment, until he started playing with a piece of your hair.
‘’How did you get into this mess?’’
‘’The guy wanted my beer,’’ he explained simply, softly.
‘’And you didn’t think you had enough?’’ Conrad was silent, so you glanced at him through the visor mirror. ‘’Why did you drink so much?’’
‘’You.’’
A frown formed between your eyebrows. ‘’Me?’’
He let go of your hair and leaned his head against the window. ‘’Why were you with that guy? Is…is he your new boyfriend?’’
No.
Brody was charming and sweet, but you didn’t see him as a potential boyfriend. You weren’t looking for a relationship at the moment. That would be stupid given you were starting college in September.
‘’That’s none of your business,’’ you said instead, brushing off his question.
After playing cat and mouse all summer the year prior — and some of autumn —, you and Conrad decided to call it quits in the spring. You never officially dated, just played around, but a part of you had been hopeful Conrad would change his mind and want to take it to the next level. Unfortunately, he was never yours to lose.
‘’I don’t like when you kiss someone else. You should be kissing me.’’
The atmosphere in the jeep became tense as Conrad's words hung in the air. Had he not been so intoxicated, he would never have said that. You could feel the weight of his emotions and the unresolved tension between the two of you.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to compose yourself, not wanting to lash your emotions at him. ‘’You dumped me, remember?’’ you reminded him, trying to ignore the sleeping pain hidden in a compartment of your heart.
‘’Seeing you with someone else... it drives me crazy,’’ he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability.
Twisting in your seat, you turned to face Conrad.
Conrad and his stupid temper. Had he not gotten into a dumb fight over a beer, the side of your face wouldn’t be in pulsing pain. You also would not be sitting in his jeep with him.
Without saying anything, he reached for your face, gently brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. ‘’I’m sorry.’’
Before you could say anything, the driver side’s door opened, snapping you and Conrad from your moment.
‘’I found him!’’ Jeremiah announced, getting in while Steven did the same, complaining about having to sit in the backseat and having not enough room for his legs.
—
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully
#conrad fisher#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher x reader#the summer i turned pretty imagine#the summer i turned pretty
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𝐓𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Day 2: Face Fucking
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Profanity bc who do you think I am, Pussy Eating, Face Riding, Face Fucking, DID NOT PROOFREAD SO SORRY FOR ERRORS LMFAO
Summary: Satoru puts his mouth to good use for once.
You may be over Satoru, but Satoru is not and will never be over you.
❥ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❥
Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist
“Why are we doing this again?”
“Because I don’t wanna do the mission. If I win, you gotta do it for me.”
“Satoru…” You groan, exasperated. “Are you really that lazy?”
Your boyfriend grins up at you. “Not lazy, but taking care of a Grade 2 curse sounds like a fucking drag and honestly, it’s a waste of my time.” He folds his hands behind his head, yawning loudly.
“This is such a stupid bet,” you grumble and Satoru laughs.
“You’re always so tense. Either way, you literally come out on top, so really I’m doing you a favor.”
You cock your head to the side in annoyance, folding your arms over your chest as you glare down at your boyfriend. You wish you could see his eyes through that stupid blindfold he’s always wearing. You’re sure they’re positively glowing with mirth.
Your mind replays the events of earlier today and how you’d ended up in such a compromising position.
- - - - - -
It should have been a day like any other. You’d teach your classes, maybe take the students on a mission, let them do their thing. Then you’d find Satoru at the end of the day to go home together. But when you’d bumped into your boyfriend coming out of Principal Yaga’s office with a sour look on his face, jaw tight with irritation, you couldn’t help but stop in your tracks to ask what was wrong.
Your mistake.
“How would you like to gain some experience and maybe earn points with Yaga for a promotion,” Satoru proposed after explaining the situation. His wide, toothy grin shone brightly as he awaited your answer, which came the moment he’d finished asking.
“No.”
“Babe, come onnnnnn,” he whines, grabbing your hands. “Please, it’s an easy mission!”
“Then you do it!”
“I don’t wannaaaaaa.”
“God, Satoru, why are you literally the strongest and laziest person I’ve ever known?” You roll your eyes, pulling your hands from his grip to place them on your hips. Satoru pouts, and you’re grateful you can’t see those baby blues or you may have given in right then. His eyes were his greatest strength when it came to you, and not because of the power he held in them.
“Oh, I’m the strongest lazy person, but Suguru literally quit because he didn’t wanna do missions,” he grumbles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest. Satoru stands there, staring you down until you think you can quite literally see the bulb ding above his head. “Okay okay, wait. I have an idea.”
Your eyes narrow, looking your boyfriend up and down suspiciously. You have no idea what he could be up to, but you’re curious, if not a little scared.
“It’s just a bet,” he says as if that’s going to make you feel better. He must see the look of concern on your face because he scrambles to keep talking. “It’s just something we were probably gonna do anyway, but now we can make it a little more exciting.” He holds both his hands up in the air, wiggling his fingers and giggling to himself as though he’s just said the most hilarious thing.
You’re still waiting for the punchline.
“What is it…” You ask warily…and you regret it immediately when Satoru leans down and brushes his soft lips against the shell of your ear, whispering.
“Let’s make a bet. When we get home, I want you to sit on my face. If I can make you cum in ten minutes or less, you take the mission for me.”
A tingle races up your spine, a slow warmth uncurling low in your belly. You’ve never done that with Satoru before. The thought fills you with excitement. Your lips curl with a smirk and you whisper back, a challenge in your voice. “And if you can’t?”
“Then I guess I’ll do the mission, but something tells me I won’t have to worry about that.” He nips your earlobe, grinning when you yelp. You shove his shoulder, effectively pushing him back. You try to resist smiling when you realize he has his infinity off for you. He always has it off for you. Only you. Such a romantic.
You could always go home and fuck Satoru until the sun comes up like it’s a normal Tuesday night. Or, you could take him up on his offer…and make him suffer a little in the process.
Satoru closes the distance between you and loops his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. “So? Do we have a deal?”
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to whisper against his lips, “Take us home.”
It’s instant. Space and time bend violently around you and Satoru covers your eyes, holding you tightly against his chest as he warps you both home.
- - - - - -
Now here you are, naked and straddling Satoru’s chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about what’s to happen next. Your eyes dart down to Satoru’s phone on the bedside table, the big fat 10:00 timer blinking brightly on the screen. All you have to do is not let him win. You don’t want the mission anymore than he does and he needs to learn he can’t just dump all of his responsibilities on other people.
Satoru clears his throat, pulling you from your straying thoughts. “As much as I’m absolutely loving the view from down here, we don’t have much time before one of us…” he points only to you, “...has to be on this mission.” You purse your lips, the uneasiness you just felt quickly dissipating. Satoru’s hands find purchase on your waist, gently squeezing. “Look, if you’re worried you’ll smother me to death –”
“Tempting,” you interrupt, grinning with Satoru frowns.
“Anywayyyy, if you’re worried you’ll smother me to death, don’t worry about it. I’m the strongest.”
You stare blankly at him while he stares amusedly back at you. You’ve heard enough. You scoot forward, your bare cunt hovering over Satoru’s face for a moment before you effectively shut him up, dropping your core right on to his lips. A muffled yelp can be heard from deep between your thighs, Satoru shifting beneath you to try and get comfortable.
“Clock starts now,” you sing, leaning over quickly to tap the timer on his phone to start. The seconds tick down rapidly, Satoru just as eager as he groans into your center. His hands wrap around your thighs, spreading them further apart for him. His tongue grazes your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud over and over.
You try to stay focused, try to stare straight ahead at the damn headboard because you don’t want to give Satoru the satisfaction of being able to brag that he won. But it just feels too damn good, the way he works his tongue through your folds, how he kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, how he groans into your cunt, clearly enjoying himself.
Satoru gives your pussy one long, broad lick and groans. Your eyes fluttering closed and your head falling back. You bite your lip just as his tongue thrusts between your folds, sucking, licking and biting. Your thighs shake as you struggle to keep your hips from slamming down into Satoru’s face but god it feels so fucking good.
Satoru has always been…gifted in the bedroom. There’s very little he’s not good at and it’s showing now as Satoru’s hands graze along your thighs, around to your ass where his nails dig into your ass cheeks. He pulls you forward, urging you to move.
You roll your hips forward when Satoru gives your ass one last smack. He sucks on your clit, humming as his lips wrap around the bundle of nerves and the sudden choked sob that leaves your lips catches you off guard.
“Fuck! Satoru, right there. Don’t stop!” You moan, your fingers reaching down to tangle into your boyfriend’s hair.
Satoru doesn’t stop. He does it again and again until you’re a panting mess atop of him. He grunts into your core, squeezing your ass before smacking it hard. A strangled cry rushes past your lips. Your thighs tremble on either side of Satoru’s head and he chuckles, smacking your other ass cheek and relishing in the way your legs shake again.
Your hips rock back and forth along his tongue, Satoru’s fingers digging into the meat of your ass to push and pull you along his face. He wants you to go faster, go harder, ride his face until you drown him in your cum.
God, he knows what the fuck he’s doing with that annoying mouth of his. You were an idiot for agreeing to his bet because you can already feel the heat pooling in your core as the band inside your belly threatens to snap at any moment.
Satoru’s loving this, you can tell by the needy groans and breathy whines escaping him as he buries himself as deep into your cunt as he can go. It’s so filthy, the way his tongue laps at your core, tasting and relishing every last drop you have to offer.
You’re panting, leaning forward now to grip the headboard. Satoru stops suddenly, reaching up and pulling his blindfold off of his face to reveal his eyes. He knows exactly what that does to you, that you’ll fall apart in those beautiful orbs that hold all the power of the universe in them. Satoru looks just as beautiful between your thighs, snowy locks spread wildly, his mouth wet with your slick. He kisses your thighs, trailing soft touches all the way up to your center, leaving a gentle peck to your core. Satoru smirks when you roll your hips forward at the contact, then he trails soft kisses back down your other thigh.
His hands squeeze your ass softly just as Satoru pushes his tongue between your folds again and runs his tongue flat up your core.
“So good, Satoru. Fuck, that’s so good.”
“Yeah, baby?” He asks, voice muffled as he buries his face in your cunt again, licking and sucking your clit while you’re grinding your own hips down on him, pace harder and faster than before. You nod, the only sounds heard being the hushed moans that grow gradually louder as you grind your hips down against Satoru’s face and the lewd slurping of Satoru’s mouth as he laps at your slick cunt.
With one hand, Satoru spreads one of your cheeks. With the other, he easily slips two fingers into your drenched cunt. “Shitttttt,” Satoru moans into your pussy when he feels your pussy clamp down on him. He curls his fingers sharply, smirking when he feels your thighs immediately begin to quiver around his head. You’re so close. There’s no way you’ll make it much longer. “Need your cum, baby. I wanna taste it. I need it.”
You don’t even get a chance to answer him. His fucking phone alarm blares on the table next to the bed, effectively stopping his actions and your orgasm.
“Fuck.” You lean over and tap the phone, Satoru’s fingers idly pumping into you. You take your position with shit eating grin on your flushed face. “Guess I won –”
Satoru pulls you back to sit on his face, tongue darting out to lap at your soaked pussy.
“Don’t give a fuck about the bet. Need to make you cum,” he mutters into your core, pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. Your mouth falls open with a silent moan as Satoru wastes no time bringing you to the most earth shattering release of your life.
#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#anime x reader#anime smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x geto#satoru gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojou x reader#satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n#GojoNSFWWeek2023
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Is that really JuanaFlippa?
Based on everything we know right now, the answer is "no"
What's more likely is that this is a Binary Monster pretending to be JuanaFlippa.
On a meta level, we know the admins of dead QSMP Eggs said they won't reprise their roles, but it's no fun to base lore analysis on meta alone, so here's a lore explanation for my reasoning:
First, and perhaps the most obvious explaination: JuanaFlippa never had cracks in her shell. She died long before the event where all the Eggs got kidnapped and were returned with cracked shells, yet this "JuanaFlippa" had cracks. What's interesting to note here is that during the Election Dinner when the fake Chayanne and Tallulah tried to trick Phil, he immediately pointed out that they didn't have cracks in their shell while the real Chayanne and Tallulah did. Perhaps the imposter was trying to overcompensate for their previous mistake by adding cracks to JuanaFlippa's shell not realizing that she never had them in the first place.
The reason why I specifically say this is a Binary Monster is because of the signs she left:
We've already seen the Binary Monster(s) try to replicate regular non-binary writing before when Etoiles encountered the fake Dapper and fake Tallulah (the book he showed Forever pictured below):
"My Dapper me na name" —> "My name is Dapper"
We know the Codes are constantly evolving and learning, so naturally their writing is getting better too (though we can clearly see 1s and 0s and other errors in "Flippa's" signs despite this).
But what's the Code's motivation in doing this?
In the past, we saw the Code(s) mimic Eggs because they wanted to attack and kill Presidential candidates— but that's a pretty recent development. Remember: before the elections, they were attacking the Eggs (though they also attacked Maximus and Cellbit at one point). The motivations of the Binary Monster(s) has always been unclear, and there's a lot of potential roads we could go down while theorizing, but in the interest of keeping this as relevant to the current discussion as possible, I'll focus on just one:
We have strong evidence to believe that the Binary Monster didn't want Islanders to stay on the island. It kept attacking the Eggs and leaving behind signs that said "Last Warning," strongly implying that it was trying to chase them away.
HOWEVER: shortly before the elections, QSMPGlobal tweeted an image of the Binary Monster above the Federation building.
[ Note: I thought I had this photo saved, but I didn't. I've been scrolling through their media tab for 5 minutes and Twitter crashed, so I'll have to add this photo later. It’s very late and I am so so tired. ]
This is the first time the Federation acknowledged the existence of the Binary Monster, and afterward, it said Islanders wouldn't need to worry about it attacking them. Why would the Federation suddenly acknowledge this physical embodiment of a mistake, an error, on their (supposedly) perfect Island?
The answer? The Federation took control of the Binary Monster. Why else would they suddenly deem it "not a threat"?
We could clearly see the Binary Monster deteriorating over time during the election arc. It looked shabbier and shabbier as time went on during the election arc. Something was clearly wrong with it (perhaps whatever the Federation was doing to control it hurt the Code in some way? Maybe the Federation experimented on it and made their own Binary Monsters?) But I digress-
The next time we see the Binary Monster after the Election ends is on Tazercraft's recent stream this week. Not only does it have a new upgrade (the strange OP sword Cellbit + Etoiles saw records of), it also ignores Richarlyson and opts to take a swing at Pac and Mike instead.
Now here's where things get really weird.
Earlier this week, we also saw the Binary Monster on Etoiles' stream. It didn't attack him, and instead leads him to a sharestone, which teleported him to a portal. He's given this image, then is kicked from the QSMP with the message: "The Nether Awaits."
So what does this have to do with JuanaFlippa?
...Well, that's the question, isn't it?
This is where things start getting murkier. I want to draw our attention to two specific things Flippa said before she left:
"It's not safe out there for me."
"Please keep this a secret."
The Binary Monster has already proven time and time again it's a force to be reckoned with. Why would it need to hide? Is it so that it can get closer to Charlie? (And if so, why? To mimic him? To get information?) I think a likelier answer is that the Binary Monster is trying to hide from the Federation itself.
Perhaps whatever the Federation did to shackle it— whether they experimented on it or copied it or whatever— left it damaged and weak. Or perhaps it isn't damaged at all; it just needs to lay low and needs someone else to do its dirty work for it (like sending Etoiles on a quest to find that strange shield in the Nether).
Unfortunately, a lot of this amounts to speculation because we simply don't have enough information yet. (It's also very very very late for me, so this analysis is purely driven by sleep-deprived madness and love for QSMP lore and JuanaFlippa).
Whatever's going on, we need to be very careful and think carefully about this being's motivations. Like Cellbit said: "Eyes always open."
Anyways, feel free to share your thoughts in the tags or comments or whatever, it's always fun hearing what people think of my analysis posts. You can find other analysis posts in my QSMP Info and QSMP talk tag.
#QSMP#JuanaFlippa#Slimecicle#Binary Monster#Code Monster#i talk#qsmp talk#QSMP Info#Anyways. Bedtime#I'm so frickin sick because of how sleep-deprived I am but I will NOT have the motivation to do an analysis writeup later#QSMP analysis
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ㅤㅤㅤ❤︎ 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘
ㅤhistory professor!pero tovar x f!reader
genre: smut, dark academia, minors dni
word count: 2k
summary: you've been suspicious for a while from the way he speaks. talking about historic events with such an affinity as if he's actually been there. the thought refuses to leave your mind and brings you to his office where he gives you answers but not without a price.
prompt: Their history teacher had a way to talk about historic events, just like he had actually been there. (click here for the prompt list)
warnings: unbalanced power dynamics, professor/student, fingering, mild dubcon due to the nature of the dynamic, pero is a bit of an asshole, size kink, rough piv, age gap
requested by @dinjardin
**amazing gif made by the most talented fanna aka @pedrorascal xx
His presence is large within the office. You always found him to be intimidating with his broad shoulders and hard gaze. The intensity of it would always take you by surprise. It would make your stomach jump and skin crawl. You would always wonder how such a soft color could look so intimidating and angry. Pero doesn’t lift his gaze as you enter, seemingly unbothered by your sudden interruption. Briefly, you look around, taking in the sight of worn books and ancient artifacts.
You swallow and look down, scanning the detailed lace of the end of your dress— maybe it was wrong of you to assume something so drastic, and frankly, unbelievable. Then again, the look in his eyes as he spoke of certain events…the way his gaze would grow cloudy and almost rueful as if speaking of a time he missed…you had to investigate, you just had to ask.
Raindrops begin to fall against the glass panels, neither of you looks to watch the soothing droplets slither down.
“How can I help you?” He asks, fingers deftly moving over the paper and scribbling down words you cannot see. “It is very unlikely for you to come and visit after hours. You must have a good reason.”
Pero’s not asking if something is wrong or not, he’s not telling you to take a seat. Every single sentence is a statement, a hint of a threat, he’s telling you not to pry. You remain silent. All the words you wish to speak suddenly foreign to your tongue. His eyes flit between the stacks of paper and you, noticing your inability to speak, he sighs and leans back against his chair. Your eyes follow the vein meandering down the side of his neck, a sliver of sun-kissed skin peeking from under his white button-up shirt.
“If you are too cowardly to speak, I suggest you leave,” the corner of his lips twitch into a cruel smile. “Some things are better left unspoken.”
His words sting and you immediately know you can’t leave this room without confronting him. You’re not a coward. You’re not some little girl throwing a temper tantrum. You noticed something and you want to seek the truth. You hear the blood rushing to your ears, your veins expanding as your pulse quickens. He’s watching you intently, eyes glimmering with amusement as if he’s watching the breaking point of the heroine.
“I’m not a coward, professor.”
“No?”
“No,” you lift your chin and his smile widens into a grin. “Your words only prove that there is something going on.”
Something dark crosses his eyes, something that sends a chill down your spine, “How about this,” he starts, lacing his fingers above his belt. Your eyes instinctively drop to them, making you realize that he did it on purpose. It’s not much, but you still manage to witness the outline of his cock. “If you guess what it is that I am hiding, I’ll confess fully. But if not, I get to touch you how I please. You get two guesses.”
“That seems hardly fair.” After a brief thought, you add. “And unprofessional.”
He shrugs with a smile, “Then I wish you a good day. See you in class tomorrow.”
He knows you’re not gonna leave this room. And you know that he knows. There’s no way you’re backing down after coming this far. You fix him a half-hearted glare as if you’re thinking about another way to get him to speak. But in all honesty, you’re not at all appalled by the thought of his hands on you. Touching you in places he’s not supposed to be touching. He’s a handsome professor. One of the professors that the other students constantly remark about, and you’re not immune to his deep dark eyes and mischievous, teasing smile.
“Fine,” you answer through gritted teeth and he lifts two fingers, eyes full of flickering amusement. “Okay, my first guess is that you’re a time traveler.”
His gaze lights up and for a second you think you’ve got it right, your heart starting to pound fast. Your mouth goes dry as you stare at the two fingers.
He lowers one, and slowly, he stands.
“Wrong,” he purrs, this voice thick. The professor rounds the desk and comes to a halt behind you, his body only a breath away. You hold your breath. “ Where should I touch you first? Here?” With both hands he cups your breasts, squeezing them lightly. Your breath catches in your throat, your pulse quickening from where his lips hover an inch away from your neck. “Or here?” His hands slither down and slip to your back, he cups your ass, the plump flesh filling his palms.
A whimper is caught in your throat and he lifts one finger in front of you, “Tell me your second guess and final guess.”
“Um,” all the answers you previously had feels silly to you now. “You’re a supernatural being, like a vampire or something.”
“Vampire?” He laughs, loudly. The sound booms in your ear, the thick hairs above his lip tickling your skin along with his warm breath. Embarrassment floods your senses and your eyes drop to his weathered desk. You feel the touch of his lips on your ear. “No. I am not a vampire,” he waits for a beat and then chuckles darkly. “You are out of guesses, senorita.”
His hands slip under your shirt and roam, taking in every detail of your burning body. He pulls down your bra, with his thumbs, he plays with the pebbled flesh. His touch makes arousal gather quickly between your legs. You squirm as you finally feel the full press of his body. His cock hard and aching between his legs. Some part of you wants to argue and say that this is more than a touch, but the other part of you is deadly afraid that he’ll stop.
You don’t want him to stop.
He pinches your nipples and slightly twists them, your body jolts, lips parting with a gasp, “Professor—“
“You really want to know what I am?” He mutters, dragging his nose down your cheek. You nod but honestly, with the way his hands are kneading you’re breasts, you realize you don’t care much about it anymore. “I am cursed to live out the rest of my days. Watching the times pass me by, watching everyone I once called a friend die.” You shudder at his tone, your body seizing at the sharp feel of his teeth. “I lived over and over. Now I am at a point where I do not care much about anything anymore.”
Your eyes go wide as he kisses your neck. His lips are soft and slightly damp. It feels good against your skin. A soft whimper escapes your lips. it’s hard to register what he just said, to understand what he means. Some part of you feels as if you’ve already known this. That he lived a thousand lifetimes and will live a thousand more.
Pero doesn’t give you a chance to speak. Before you can remark or offer some comfort, he holds you by the neck and shoves you down to the desk. His hips are pressed firmly against your ass, his erection tucked between your cheeks. Your breath hitches. With the corner of your eye, you see ungraded papers whipping around you and falling to the floor.
“One of the things that time has not changed is how even the most proper women become whores after I bend them over just like this.”
He must be right because you end up grinding back toward him, wanting to feel more of his cock, body, and presence. He grins against your skin. With large hands, he pushes up your dress and exposes your covered thighs. It doesn’t take him long to rip away your stockings. Warm palms stroke the flesh of your ass, he slides your panties to the side, exposing your soaked pussy to the chilled air of his office.
“Let’s see how wet this cunt is,” he teases, voice dropping. Two fingers spread your folds and push between them, your chest heaves as he slips them inside of you with embarrassing ease. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling. He starts thrusting in and out, the wet sounds of your cunt flooding the room, burning your ears. It’s so loud. A fresh wave of arousal soaks his fingers, dripping down his wrist. “How hard do you want me to fuck you?”
You push back against him, walls fluttering as you take his fingers knuckle deep. “Filthy,” he coos. “You’re a mess already. My sweet student is such a slut for her professor. Isn’t she?”
“Yes,” you gasp, wiggling your ass. His groan rattles in your chest and you moan at the richness of the sound.
He pulls out his fingers, his other hand still pressing you down by the back of your neck, “Gonna fuck this pussy until it's drowning in my come,” he says. “Then you’ll be coming here every day, asking—begging me to fill these pretty holes.”
His cock is so much bigger and thicker compared to his fingers. Your body coils tight. The head of his length stretching you incredibly wide. You moan through gritted teeth, a sound of both pleasure and pain seeping into the wood underneath your cheek. Your skin prickles as he presses forward, your jaw going slack. He feels so incredibly big. He reaches deep inside of you, stroking places that you thought weren’t possible before. You writhe underneath him. Your body clenching him tight. He moans loudly when he’s fully heated inside, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. You let out a deep breath and force your body to relax. He seems to notice. The only kindness he shows is the soothing glide of his palms over your back. You hum and sigh at the feeling.
But the tenderness is short-lived. Pero pulls out until it’s only the tip remaining and with a deep growl he snaps his hips forward, filling you with one smooth thrust. You scream his name, your body burning from the inside out as he pounds harder and harder into you. You’re drooling all over his cock, your nipples tight from where they rub against his desk. He fucks himself deeper into the tight fist of your cut and takes. He takes and takes and takes until you’re lifeless like a doll underneath him. Pleasure licks the base of your spine.
“Come on you professor’s cock,” he rasps into your ear, cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your body begins to seize. Pero straightens, whine tearing from your throat at the lack of body heat. He roughly takes a hold of your hips and hammers into you, skin slapping against skin, until you’re coming undone around his cock. You cry out and the entirety of your body twitches uncontrollably.
Pero continues to thrust into you, his grip on your hips never faltering as he rides out his own orgasm. His groans and grunts mix with your own moans and cries as he fills you to the brim just like he promised.
Your mind is a blur of pleasure as you feel his cock pulse and twitch inside of you. It's overwhelming and you feel yourself start to come undone all over again. Pero's hands move from your hips to your breasts, giving them a rough squeeze before his fingers pinch and tug at your hard nipples. He pushes even deeper, some of his release dripping from where his cock mercilessly stretches you. A soft whimper drops from your lips.
He finally pulls out of you, your body limp on the desk. Pero stands up and looks down at you with a satisfied grin on his face. He watches you try to catch your breath.
“You're mine now. All mine, even if you do not want to be,” he says, pulling his pants back up and adjusting himself. “And you will keep coming back for more.”
You're too exhausted and sated to even respond, but deep down you know he's right. There's no turning back now.
#pero tovar x reader#pero tovar x f!reader#pero tovar x fem!reader#pero tovar smut#pero tovar au#professor!pero tovar#the great wall fanfic#the great wall fanfiction#pero tovar fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic
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Hi! I have been obsessed with your Jason fics for a couple of days. They are just so sweet and incredible. I simply love them and I think that thanks to you I have a new comfort character 😊
I kind of had a little 🤏 anxiety attack in a situation similar to the one I am going to request yesterday. But, somehow imagining Jason recomforting me and thinking about your stories helped me to ease my mind for a while. So thank you so much 🫶🏼
If you have time and like the idea, could you make a fic in which Jason and fem!reader at a Gala in the Wayne Manor and the reader kinds of stress out because people keep asking her questions and looking at her (maybe because that it's their first event as an official couple 🤔) and Jason helps her and assures her that everything will be fine
Hope you have a good day!
Aww I’m sorry to hear that. I get those a lot with my job. Sorry it’s so short, but I hope this helps!
—
“I’ll say it as much as I have to,” Jason’s voice rumbles comfort in your ear, his hand settling snug along your back.
“You look stunning, babe. Don’t worry.”
His words became a temporary balm to your rising concerns, causing a nearly endless bubbling in your tummy.
You weren’t like this when you arrived, fiddling with the skirt of your dress in the back of the limousine. It began when you caught various flashes of photographers along the manor gates, attempting to catch evidence of tonight’s Gala attendees.
Of course, Jason’s commentary from how you’ve done your makeup, to this gorgeous… gorgeous silk dress you picked out for the event, was ever such an ego boost.
A rich, merlot color, complimenting the collar of his button up under his tux jacket. All of Gotham knew just how extravagant Bruce Wayne’s galas were, ranging from charity events to holiday celebrations.
Part of you was excited to attend, despite it being out of your comfort zone. Lots of important people, plenty of snobs looking to get on Wayne’s good side. You imagined that one scene from The Devil Wears Prada; the main character himself strolling along with an aura of charming confidence as he greeted his guests, while his sons lounge around the stairs in absolute boredom, adorned in their secretly signature colors.
Jason usually avoided these events, but just for tonight, he wouldn’t mind attending as long as had his lovely girl by his side.
The dress made you look like complete eye candy. He wasn’t afraid to say that. His girl deserved to look her best, as long as people knew who you arrived and were leaving with at the end of the night.
“What if they ask a bunch of personal stuff?”
“Tell ‘em a bunch of personal lies,” Jason shrugs. “S’what I do all the time.”
Lying seems the most reasonable. Rich, important people do it all the time. What’re they gonna do, fact check you on the spot?
“Ah ah,” he holds up a finger the second he sees your lips open, shaking his head after another sip of champagne. “Look, if they were that desperate to look for truth here, then what’s the point of secret identities?”
After nearly an hour of gentle symphonies accompanying a handful of introductions at a time, your polite smile grew a little more strained. Shaking hands of many faces you didn’t care about, politely nodding your head towards patrons you accidentally made eye contact with and so on, had you clutching Jason’s forearm just a little tighter.
He remained by your side, offering you some soda water or champagne to settle your nerves after finding you both a semi-quiet retreat in a slightly vacant corner.
You weren’t sure why your mind began focusing on the outer talk of guests around you, but you begin to hate yourself for it.
Questions varying from who you were, hushed mutters of if you were simply bribed by lavish gifts to attend. Was another son of Bruce Wayne following in his playboy footsteps, going from girl to girl?
Such comments even went as far as to compliment your hair and makeup. You even heard a woman say this shade of red didn’t suit your skin tone. What does that even mean??
Soon enough, the music grew as loud as the chatter, making your chest swell and burn with irritation for the mental overstimulation.
Jason takes a fresh drink from a tray before leading you out from the stuffy crowds, striving into the courtyard patio. A warm, natural floral breeze helps wipe your senses clean after breathing in a cloying concoction of expensive fragrances all in one room.
A few well dressed patrons were scattered about, smoking cigarettes neatly tucked in slick metal cases. Jason didn’t stop there, leading you down a short set of curved stairs leading into the gardens.
“Breathe, babe. I gotcha.” He holds your hand at first before reaching for his jacket buttons. “All this liquor didn’t get to your head, did it?”
His teasing nearly fell on deaf ears as he draped his coat over your bare shoulders, making his smile slowly fade from your silence.
“You sure you don’t just wanna dip? We can stop at a diner and tell the waiters Batman crashed our expensive, high school prom.”
“Bruce won’t get mad?” You question after a short smile, watching Jason’s lips purse with a firm head shake.
“I mean, we showed up,” Jason clarifies while balancing his empty glass along a nearby stone bench. “No one’s really telling us to stay here.”
A faint air of defeat floods your shoulders, even when your favorite person offered the solution to your anxieties. You thought you’d be more confident, holding the aura of poise and elegance so many women held at these events.
Overall, it was too much. The music, the people, the cologne.
Somehow, a late night diner sounded a whole lot better the more you thought about it. Bustling bells ringing for hot plates, palate cleansing coffee flooding your nose, greasy bacon, and orange juice lacking any expensive champagne.
“Keep that pretty head high, princess.” Jason gently gives the bottom of your chin a gentle nudge with his thumb, gifting you a handsome smile.
“You showed up, that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you.”
#Jason Todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x female!reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd dc#yuhhhhhh#that one comic photo of him with champagne#yuhhhh
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Note: I finally got this done, holy shit. I tried to make these head canons more different than their 10 heart event since I already did something similar, but on some of the bachelors I just couldn’t help it. Either way, I thought this was a neat little premise.
When the bachelors plan to propose, but you beat them to it
Sam
- So I think to think of Sam as one of those “I’m gonna fake it till I make it” and pretend to be nonchalant about it on the outside.
- But on the inside he’s freaking out lol.
- You’re the first person to really get him, without the whole “you’re just a kid, grow up” attitude towards him.
- He doesn’t necessarily wanna make it too romantic. But he wants to make it romantic enough to show you he really does love you.
- Maybe he’ll write a song for you. No, maybe he’ll do something cheesy like bring a boombox to your farmhouse in the middle of a storm. No, maybe he’ll make a poster!
- He’s just a tad bit indecisive lol.
- He was thinking of writing a song about you. Was actually halfway through the song when you randomly went up to him in the middle of fall.
- “Hey, I was gonna stop by the forest to gather some mushrooms… did you wanna come with me?”
- He was planning on taking a walk at some point, so why not?
- As you two walked there, he would mess around with you and tease you while you playfully bickered with him.
- And he loves your little bickers and jabs back at him. You always laugh or smile at him in the end, and it gives him a warm feeling.
- “So, I may not have been honest when I told you I wanted to pick mushrooms with you,” You said nervously.
- “I thought you just wanted to get away from the house,” Sam replied. “Be my knight in shining armor and take me away from my room!”
- Drama queen lol
- “Well, that,” you said, laughing when he grins at you. “But there was also something else. And I wanted to do it when you were taking your fall walks up the river and to the forest.”
- “Okay… now you’re scaring me a little,” Sam says jokingly, although you could hear his tone beginning to shift.
- You took a deep breath and grabbed something in your pocket, revealing it to be a small mermaid’s pendant to him.
- “I know it might not be the most romantic,” you began to say. “If I was as talented as you, I would’ve written a song or something. But… I really didn’t wanna have to wait that long after I got stuck on a few rhymes.”
- This man was flabbergasted lol.
- You knew how to take his breath away.
- “Um… say something,” you said nervously. “Please…”
- It took you by surprised when he immediately hugged you afterwards, spinning you around and cupping your cheeks in his hands.
- “You kidding me?” He asked. “Of course I’ll marry you!”
- You let out a sigh of relief and laughed, smiling against his lips as he leaned in for a kiss.
- After he pulled away, he said, “You know, I was halfway through your proposal song. But I might as well finish it so I can sing it to you at the next concert.”
- “You wrote a song for me?” You asked.
- “Of course I did,” he said while hugging you happily. “Who do you think I am?”
Sebastian
- Sebastian never planned on getting married.
- It wasn’t really on his mind that much. He was so determined to get out of the small town first, away from the countryside.
- But after meeting you, he starts thinking about it. A lot.
- To the point where sometimes he’ll half jokingly bring up liking the countryside more because of a “certain person”, and imagining his life with you and him still in the town.
- He starts to think about his life with you a lot.
- How things would be if he moved in with you, how his life would look if he married you, or even had a family with you.
- Over time he realized he really wanted to do that.
- To the point where he couldn’t stop thinking about it. You were on his mind 24/7, and imagining you getting married to him felt like it could be a reality now.
- Now the problem was where he’d propose to you.
- He could do it maybe on the cliffside where he goes to look out at the city. But that could be weird, considering he used to go there to get away from the town. Now, he wants to stay in it.
- Maybe by the beach, but he only really goes there when it’s raining.
- The Mountain Lake isn’t anything necessarily special for the two of you.
- The whole time he was rack his brain trying to figure out where he’d propose to you. It started getting on his nerves, tbh.
- But the funny thing is…
- …that you end up proposing when you two are relaxing at the farmhouse, watching a movie together.
- “Hey, so I was walking around the beach the other day,” you began.
- “When it was raining?” He asked. “I would’ve gone with you.”
- You smile and shake your head.
- “Yeah, you could’ve. I ended up seeing a frog by the river on my way back.”
- “Lucky,” he said while grabbing some popcorn.
- “But I wanted to go to the beach, for this…”
- You slowly pull out a mermaid’s pendant, carefully holding it out towards him.
- He glanced at it, then looked back at the movie. Then did a double take.
- He immediately paused the movie and turned his body towards you, carefully admiring the pendant.
- “I know this isn’t the most romantic place,” you began. “But I really think you’re something special, Seb. And I really wanted to ask… will you marry me?”
- He couldn’t help but crack a smile, holding out his hands and admiring the pendant in its full beauty.
- “Of course I will, how can I say no to that?”
- He leans in and kisses you gently, as if his words didn’t already tell you enough.
- Sure, it could’ve been done in a more romantic way. But I don’t think Sebastian really needs that.
- He’s honestly just glad you’re here for the ride. With him.
Harvey
- So remember when I said Sam would be nervous about it?
- Harvey’s like, 10 times worse.
- He HAS to get this right, in his head.
- It’s not like he’ll think you’ll dump him if he doesn’t. Even though the thought has crossed his mind once or twice.
- He just thinks you deserve the world. Poor guy barely thinks he’s good enough to be with you, but you’ve comforted him enough to let him know he’s more than enough <3
- With that being said, he’d want to propose doing something out of his comfort zone.
- Kinda like when he took you on a date to the hot air balloon. But even bigger.
- Maybe he’ll take you to a Ferris wheel, or take you somewhere to watch fireworks.
- Or both??
- Harvey never really liked Ferris wheels. But, he was determined to go on it. To give you an amazing view, and amazing memory, and an amazing time.
- Besides, he’s gone on a hot air balloon, right? He’ll be fine.
- So he brought up the mermaid pendant that night with you in hand, planning on proposing once you two hit the highest point.
- …But he didn’t really consider how scared he’d be in the moment.
- Right when the Ferris wheel began moving, his knees locked in place and he kept closing his eyes to stop himself from looking down.
- As you two got further up, you soothed his mind by holding him, giving him soft kisses, and comforting him with words.
- “I’m sorry,” Harvey sighed. “I wanted to make this romantic for you.”
- “We still can,” you say as you start rummaging through your pocket.
- Harvey could feel his face heat up when he sees you pull out a mermaid’s pendant.
- “I wanted to do this when you were more comfortable,” you began. “But I can’t wait any longer.”
- He’s smiling a lot, and nods his head.
- “Yes, of course I’ll marry you,” he manages to say, before pulling you in for a kiss.
- Now can you imagine kissing Harvey while the Ferris wheel hits the highest point, fireworks going off in the background as the rest of the world around you two disappears?
- Stop it, you guys are literally so cute.
Alex
- I’m ngl, I think Alex would definitely want to make his proposal very public.
- He loves you, and he wants everyone to know just how much he does.
- So maybe he’d propose in the Saloon on a Friday night, when he knows everyone will be around.
- Or he’d propose at a gridball game during half time, the cameras glued to the two of you as he told the whole world just how much in love he was with you.
- Either way, he had everything set up. He settled on the saloon so you would be more comfortable.
- He might want to show you off but he also wants to make sure you feel okay first.
- He wanted to ease into his plan. Maybe take you to the beach when the sun’s setting before walking over to the saloon.
- It was so cute, he had this whole thing planned where he wanted Gus to play the violin, like your very first date.
- However when you two got to the beach, you ended up being one step ahead of him.
- Walking over to the beach, he noticed a something drawn in the sand.
- At first he thought it was one of Jas’ or Vincent’s drawings. But walking closer to it, he noticed there was a huge heart with words in the middle.
- “Will you marry me?”
- He was stunned, to say the least.
- I honestly don’t know whether or not he’d slowly turn around to face you, or whip his head as fast as he could towards you lol.
- Either way, he sees you pull out the mermaid pendant from your pocket or backpack while smiling sheepishly.
- “I tried to make it as romantic as possible…” you said.
- He laughs while nodding his head.
- He’d be a fool to not accept.
Shane
- I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t really know how Shane would approach marriage.
- I know if he were to consider it, it’d definitely be because you’ve changed him for the better.
- I just really don’t think he’d know how to go about it.
- He’s never really been the romantic type, has never really thought about dates or serious commitments like that.
- Hell, before he met you, he barely thought he was gonna make it to tomorrow, let alone plan out how he was gonna propose to you.
- But he knew he had to change. Not only for you, though, dating you made him feel like he actually wanted to plan out his future.
- He knew he had to change for him, to make him happy.
- So he got to work.
- Sometimes he’d say he was going to the saloon for Joja Cola or to play Prairie King, when really he was going to ask advice on how to ask you to marry him.
- Obviously Gus was all for it.
- I think Pam was too wasted to care.
- I think Shane would settle on trying to propose to you at the saloon. Gus wanted to support Shane in any way possible, and Shane, surprisingly a romantic, wanted everyone to know how devoted he was to you.
- Unfortunately for him, he didn’t exactly know how to get a pendant.
- Don’t get him wrong, he’s heard stories and tales about it “magically appearing when the time is right.”
- But he wanted it right now, man was impatient af.
- For now, he was just going to accept your offer to go to the movies, and figure out how to get the pendant for you later.
- Jojamart had been long gone since you came, and truthfully? He was happy it was gone.
- Before it was a mixed feeling of not occupying any of his time anymore. But that time was spent with you instead.
- Anyways, two you walked to the movie theater together hand in hand. The fresh smell of popcorn hit the two of you when you entered.
- “Let’s watch It Howls in the Rain,” you suggested.
- You got him his favorite snack and practically ran to the movie room, confusing Shane but ultimately giving him something to chuckle about.
- The whole time watching it, he was reminded of how much he loved you.
- Everytime you tensed up when you got scared, when you held onto him close when a scary scene came up.
- Everything just felt right.
- “Hey Shane?”
- The movie had just ended, and people were starting to leave.
- “Yeah?”
- “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now,” you say, beginning to slip your hand into your pocket. “Close your eyes.”
- “But it’s dark here anyways-”
- “Just do it.”
- He listens carefully as you pull out something, holding his hand out when you’re ready. You close his hand around something small. Something skinny, with a little point at the end. And a string. It almost felt like a…
- He opened his eyes to see the mermaid’s pendant in his hands, and looked over at you.
- “Where did you-”
- “Don’t worry about it,” you said with a grin. “Will you marry me?”
- He looks down at the pendant again, a grin beginning to form on his face.
- “I’d be stupid if I didn’t say yes.”
Elliot
- I’m sure Elliot’s a die hard romantic, he’s gonna want to make sure everything goes right
- I mean, he always imagined a romantic relationship would be as amazing as it is in the books.
- But as cheesy as this sounds, his romantic relationship with you blew those expectations out the park.
- He truly felt loved by you, and every moment he spent with you was nothing less than a dream come true.
- So he planned it all out. Even got the mermaid pendant somehow, from some weird guy on the beach in the rain.
- You two went to the library together later that evening, and he was constantly recommending this romantic fantasy novel to you.
- He was going to plant the pendant at the end of chapter one, and once you got to it, he would get on one knee and ask the question.
- It sounded like an awfully romantic plan, to him anyways.
- However, he was so absorbed in his plan that he didn’t even notice you slipping your mermaid pendent into his pocket in the morning.
- By the time you two got to the library, he began to take out his wallet when he felt something small poke his finger.
- “What is this?” He asked before pulling it out.
- Ngl, at first he was petrified. Poor guy thought he forgot to put the pendant in the book.
- But after you explained to him how much you wanted to marry him, he realize you two were planning on proposing on the same day.
- He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, which did make you a little insecure at first.
- “No,” he said, immediately sending your uncomfortableness. “I mean…”
- He grabbed the book he wanted you to read and pulled out his mermaid’s pendant. He smiled at you as you pieced together the puzzle.
- “Really?” You asked in disbelief, a smile creeping onto your face.
- “I say we both wear one,” he says while taking yours in his hand.
- He puts the necklace over his neck and puts the necklace he gave you over yours.
- He smiled looking at you, now wearing the pendant with pride.
- “We really do think alike, my love.”
#stardew valley#stardew valley bachelors#stardew headcanon#sdv sam#stardew#sdv alex#sdv harvey#sdv shane#sdv sebastian#stardew valley headcanons#sdv elliot#first draft done#i’m tired
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the hardest part [ZCL] (M) fic teaser
Description: You, Chenle, and Jay have been best friends since before you could even remember. After moving away to pursue your dreams, you don't talk to them as often as you should. One day, you get a call notifying you of Jay's passing. When you go back to your hometown, you find everything is different except for one person--Chenle.
Genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst (please see content warnings)
Content Warnings: death of a close friend, survivor's guilt, lots of what-if scenarios, navigating life without someone you've always had around, mental break downs, panic attacks (not vividly described AS panic attacks), two people coming together to heal from grief, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, oral sex, mentions of sex, etc. although it's not super crazy so do with that what you will)
Release Date: 6.5.2024
Expected Word Count: 15-20k (maybe less?)
Teaser Word Count: 796
Taglist: Open!! Please let me know if you'd like to be added.
Permanent Taglist: @sunnybutcloudy @neozon3nha @waffleuvs
Pairing: Zhong Chenle x fem!reader (featuring OC by the name of Jay)
Juliet's Masterlist | Tell me what you think? :)
When nightfall comes, you and Chenle go to your separate rooms. He bids you goodnight, and you close your door. You sit on the edge of the bed and take in the room around you. Everything has changed immensely since the last time you were in your hometown. Your best friend bought a house, and you’d barely even thought or heard about it. Pride in him surges through you, but for a moment, you think it may be misplaced.
You don’t deserve to be proud of someone you’ve failed to talk to as often as you should have. Losing Jay has torn your world apart, and you still don’t truly believe it. You change into your tank top and shorts, and then grab your toothbrush and toothpaste from your bag.
You’re on your way to the bathroom when you find Chenle in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and bringing a glass of water up to his lips. He gives you a tired nod.
“You’re still up?”
“Sleep on a day like this?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll probably have some crazy ass dream or something.”
You forget your adventure to his bathroom and approach the kitchen island. Without a word between the two of you, he goes into the cupboard to get you a cup as well. He fills it with water and slides it across the countertop.
“Thanks,” you say.
He nods once and crosses his arms over his chest. “How’s life going, though? Current events aside.”
“Life is a constant revolving door of work,” you tell him. “Working my way up the corporate ladder and all that bullshit they spew.”
“You look good. As long as you’re getting all the things you wanted, I’m good, too.” He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.
“Kind of debating if it was worth it at this point.” You sigh. “I’m proud of you, by the way. Buying a house on your own is a big deal.”
“Family business money.”
“You work. You earned it.”
“I guess that’s true. Thanks.” He pauses. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d be okay if you weren’t.”
“Like I’d ever leave you to deal with something like this alone.” You tap your fingers against the granite, admiring the swirls of color deep in the design.
“Regardless, I needed you.” Chenle gulps, glancing at his feet. “I still do. Now more than ever with Jay gone.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t come?” you ask.
He wets his lips and takes the bottom one between his teeth. “It’s not that I thought that, necessarily, but I did wonder if you were. I didn’t hear from you, so I kind of just hoped.”
Guilt takes another stab at your heart. “Chenle, I—”
“Don’t apologize again,” he replies sternly. “Life is life. There’s no way any of us could’ve predicted this, okay? Sometimes, shit happens. Not being around a lot isn’t the end of the world.”
“It was for Jay.”
“You were not the end of the world. You didn’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. There’s nothing any of us could’ve done. And reminiscing on it like this and placing unplaceable blame on ourselves is going to make things harder.” He sets his cup in the sink.
“I know. I know that, but for some reason, my head keeps—”
“Let’s watch a movie,” he offers. “Maybe it’ll distract you a little bit.”
You agree, and go into the bathroom to brush your teeth before you follow him into his room. It’s so innately Chenle in there, you immediately feel relaxed. Some things never change, and you’re glad he’s one of those things.
“Sorry, I don’t have a TV in the living room,” he says as he pulls his covers back.
“Just roll me off if I fall asleep,” you reply, climbing onto the untouched side.
Eventually, he’s next to you, and you rest your head on his chest while he finds something to watch. He selects some random comedy movie and then shuffles to put his arm around you.
His scent is familiar, too. The world calms around you when you’re with Chenle. One out of two of your safe places has left the Earth, but luckily for you, Chenle is more than ready to play both roles.
The movie does, indeed, successfully distract you from the impending doom of everything outside. You’re able to forget, even if it’s just for a couple hours, and sink into the familiarity of your best friend.
His chest rumbles when he laughs at the screen, and the feeling has you drifting faster than you’d care to admit.
Until finally, your eyes flutter shut and stay that way, and just like that, you have the best night of sleep you’ve had all week.
#nct dream#chenle#nct#nct dream smut#nct smut#nct imagines#chenle smut#nct scenarios#chenle fluff#chenle angst#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#nct dream x reader#nct dream scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct imagine#nct scenario#nct fluff#nct angst#zhong chenle
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Take It Out On Me Part 4 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)
A/N: God I am about to start my period and I needed this y'all. Lol. It does lean more towards Steve than Steddie in this case and there was a reason story wise that I did that.
Enjoy!
Warnings: Dom Steddie and Plus Size sub reader. Like I said this is more of a Steve chapter but reader does mention Eddie a lot and the events of the previous chapter. Phone smut so dirty talk abound with degrading. Reader does get picked on again by Carol and starts a fight (both girls get hurt; not much), Reader hits Steve, she does use the save word but its not in a sexual setting. You'll see.
I think that's it.
Word Count: 3708
“What happened?!”
“Masie, Jesus Christ, nothing happened. Steve let me use his shower and then I crashed in the guest bedroom. It’s fine.”
Over the weekend and into the start of new school week, your friend continued to ask you the same question repeatedly. Every time you gave her the same answer but she never seemed to believe it.
“Why would you even want to stay there?”
“Can we drop it? Please?”
“Fine. I’ll drop it for now but at some point, you have to come clean about your crush on Eddie Munson.” You roll your eyes as you close your locker and walk with her to lunch. “You know his dad is in jail, right?”
“Maze!”
“What! I’m just saying.”
As you both headed to your table, Eddie flashed you a small smile before focusing his attention back to his friends. When you passed Steve’s usual table, however, you were surprised to find that he wasn’t there. He had been in class that morning so he was here today and he was in class that afternoon.
You wanted to ask him what was going on but you still didn’t know how to approach him or Eddie during school hours. You didn’t even know what the three of you were.
Since you no longer had detention, you promptly returned home after school and tried to focus on your homework but it was hard. They both kept flashing through the back of your mind. You still didn’t know much about either of them and they definitely didn’t know anything about you.
You did know Eddie Munson’s father was in prison but you weren’t sure what for. The town came up with their own ideas and used them against the metalhead whenever they could. Your parents always warned you to stay away from him because he was “bad news” but to you the rumors always seemed far-fetched.
Steve Harrington you thought you did know but as you learned you didn’t. Every time you two talked, you found out something new and the new pieces left you more confused.
For two people who seemed to like to take charge, they appeared to have little to no control over their surroundings.
The sound of your phone ringing shook you out of your thoughts as you leaned over to your bed side table to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey Y/N. It’s Steve. Steve Harrington.”
“Hey. Good thing you told me your last name. Wouldn’t want to confuse you with the other Steve I’m expecting to call.” The sound of his breathy laugh made you grin.
“Fuck that other Steve. I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“No. You’re not bothering me. I’m just doing my homework for our history class.”
“None of that shit makes any sense to me.”
“I, um, I can help you…if you want. Maybe, after school or something.”
“You’d want to help me?”
“Yeah, of course. Eddie to if he wants it. I know he’s having some trouble with Ms. O’Donnell’s class.” There was silence on his end except for the sound of his steady breathing. A sigh escaped your lips at the action, reminding you of falling asleep beside his warm, comforting frame. “Steve. Why weren’t you at lunch today?”
“Were you looking for me, honey?”
“No. I mean, I pass you both on the way to my table and you weren’t at yours with your friends.”
“Yeah. I didn’t feel like…dealing with them today.”
“Hm. I understand the feeling.” He became silent again making you worry. “Steve…are you okay?”
“Of course, I am.” You heard what sounded like him adjusting his body as he shifted on his bed. “Why? Do I not sound fine?”
“You just sound a little…lethargic.”
“Why? Because I’m calling to talk to you?! Look, I just wanted to hear your voice, okay?”
“Steve! Steve! Breathe, baby.” You have no idea where that term of endearment came from or what gave you the confidence to use it. Maybe it was hearing his panic or you just needing to hear his own confidence return. He didn’t scold you for saying it nor reprimand you in anyway so you decided to test the waters and see where this took you when it came to Steve Harrington.
“Breathe. I’m glad you called. I really am. I just hate hearing you sound so sad. I wish I could be there so I could hold you and make you feel better.”
His breathing had begun to slow and you felt the tension break. “Is that all you would do if you were here?”
“I’d do anything you wanted me to, sweetheart. I belong to you and Eddie.”
“Yeah, baby. You do. Where are you right now? In bed?” When you confirm, his groan fills the receiver. “Me to. What, uh, what are wearing?”
“Nothing attractive.”, you giggle. “I have a big, blue oversized shirt and my pajama shorts.”
Steve chuckles at your admission; not in a mocking way but filled with adoration especially at your honesty. “Most girls lie about that kind of thing. It’s kind of ridiculous like guys don’t expect you to be lounging at home in your lingerie.”
“Well, I don’t have any lingerie so”, you laugh harder.
“Shit, Y/N. We need to correct that as soon as possible! I’m not going to lie though; I think you still look sexy in what you have on.”
“How would you know!? You can’t even see me.”
“Because you look beautiful in everything you wear.” A pleasure filled gasp finds its way from your lips. You weren’t expecting that. “Yeah? You like hearing me compliment you, pretty girl?”
“I…I do.”
“Why don’t you get naked for me? Like when you were here.” While you do as your told, he continues to talk to you. “I really did like waking up with you naked next to me. I can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous your fucking body is. Every fucking curve just…drives me crazy. Fuck, I’m so fucking hard right now just thinking about it.”
“Steve…”, you moan at his words as you climbed back into bed with your legs spread.
“Do you have toys or anything?”
“Please. My parents would kill me if they found anything like that.”
“How do you usually get yourself off?”
“Honestly? I…don’t.”
Now this particular laugh he gave was meant to tease. “Honey, you’re telling me that you, the girl that said she likes to be used and fucked senseless…DOESN’T play with herself almost every day?”
“I’m telling you…yes.”, you smirk. “It’s not that I don’t know how or don’t want to…it just never worked for me. And I haven’t tried since we started fucking because I’m too fucking sore.”
You both laugh, yours much breathier than his.
“Is your pussy still sore?”
“A little. Eddie really wore it out.”
“I bet he did. Did you like it though? Him fucking you like the whore you are?
“Steve.”, you whimpered as your hips slowly began to grind onto air.
“Answer me, Y/N.”
“Yes, I liked him fucking me like a whore.”
“Fuck. Put your fingers between your legs, baby, and tell me how fucking wet you are.”
Gliding you digits between your folds; you feel the slick practically leaking down your thighs. “You’re making me drip, Steve. My sheets are soaked already. Are…are you stroking your big, thick cock?”
“Y/N, I’ve been palming my dick since you said you belong to us.”
“Aw, do you need me to remind you sometimes?”
“No…I just like hearing you say it. To hear you…fuck…submit. Put your fingers inside of your cunt.” Steve’s tone became more forceful and you promptly did as he commanded, whimpering at the feeling. “God, you sound so fucking sexy. H-how many fingers are you using?”
“Mmm—two.”
“Use one more.”
“Steve…I-I-I can’t.”
“Don’t fucking talk back to me. Remember, you’re the whore here, Y/N. You can take—mmm—our cocks but you can’t take three of your tiny fingers?!”
Your mouth opened in a silent O as you squeeze one more digit into your tight hole, moaning at the sweet feeling of you stretching yourself open.
“Good girl. Such a good fucking girl for me. How does it feel?”
“Full…so…full. Fuck…I’m gonna—”
“Me to. Cum for me, honey.” You turned your head, muffling your moans in your pillow as you came. On the other line, you heard Steve grunt followed by his own heavy breathing.
“Are you…okay?”
“Yeah…yeah, I am. Fuck.”, you laughed as your head fell back.
“Don’t put your clothes back on. I want you to fall asleep naked and dream of me, pretty girl. Okay? Fuck, I wish you had a toy so you could sleep with it inside you because I would give anything to be able to do that with you right now.”
“Steve…”
“Do you like that idea? Fuck, just thinking of me and Eddie being able to fall sleep with us both inside you is making me hard again. Waking up in the middle of the night to take you again…over and over…Jesus.”
“Steve…I-I have to go. Please, don’t get me worked up again.”, you giggle trying to hide your moans at his words. “Good night, baby.”
“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”
#################
During your free period the next day, you sat in the hallway leaning near your locker as you studied for an up coming test. The sound of squeaking sneakers followed by loud skidding made you look up just in time to see Eddie sliding on his jeaned knees toward your side.
“Hey princess.” You giggled as you grinned up at him. “What are you doing out here?”
“I’m just studying for a test.” When you flashed him your notecards, he immediately yanked them out of your grasp as he got more comfortable beside you.
“Geez, look at you all prepared. Why are you out here and not in the library or something?”
“There’s no one out here.” You gesture along the hallway for emphasis. “Plus, it’s quieter than the library…for some reason.”
“I heard you offered to help Harrington and I with our classes.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. I don’t mind. I’m not great with everything but…” Eddie nods as you flash him a tiny smile.
“I’d like that a lot. Unless it’s D & D, I struggle to retain that information. It’s almost like my brain shuts off or something.” He hands you back your cards and you place them in your lap. “How are you doing? Since the party I mean.”
“I’m ok. My dad didn’t smell any of the beer and thankfully Masie’s mom smokes so anything from your van he didn’t take as out of the ordinary.”
“Are you trying to tell me that my van smells like smoke?” He playfully squints his eyes at you as you laugh.
“I’m saying that sometimes when I leave you two, I come in smelling like you two especially your cigarettes.” You glance towards the floor as you fidget with your hands. “It doesn’t bother me though…the smoke smell. It, um, makes me think of you now.”
You blushed as you felt his eyes on your face. “Sweetheart, you can’t get all shy on me now. Especially after a little bird told me you said you enjoyed me fucking you like the whore you are.” Your eyes locked with his as he grinned. “I wish I heard you say it for myself.”
After looking around, you reached for his chin as your thumb glided along him bottom lip. “I liked you fucking me, Eddie. I told Steve I was still sore from how you stretched me open.”
His breath stuttered a bit as his lips puckered out to kiss the pad of your finger. You both jumped a part at the sound of heels as a teacher breezed pass the hallway.
“I wish I could fuck you right now.”, he whispered. “I have to go to this stupid fucking class or Principal Higgins threatened to suspend me again. My uncle will throw a fit.”
“Is that who you live with… your uncle?”
“Yup. In the trailer park a few miles down the way.”
“Where’s your mom?”
Eddie’s eyes meet yours with an amused smile. “I’m assuming since you asked that instead of where both my parents are that you’ve heard the rumors about my dad.”
“I know the town has their own stories… I’d rather hear it from you. Whenever you’re ready I mean.”
He scans your over trying to get a read on you just as Steve had. You jump when the bell rings and students quickly begin filing out into the hall. Without another word, he rises to his feet, smiling down at you before disappearing in the herd of kids.
#############
As the day came to a close, you headed for the parking lot, lost in the prospect that one of the boys would call you tonight. You froze as you noticed a small crowd had gathered near a spot you were sure your car was currently sitting. As you pushed past people, the murmurs got louder until you finally made your way to the middle.
You bag and books fell to the ground as your arms collapsed to your sides. On the side of your vehicle, spray painted in big letters were the words “Fat whore” in bright orange. The first thing that flashed through you mind was panic. How am I supposed to drive home with this? Everyone is going to see it. My parents are going to quiz me and demand to speak with the principal. They would cause a scene which is something I don’t need.
Then, that fear was replaced with extreme anger. He told them. Steve told them about what him and I have been up to. How could he do this? I knew he wasn’t any different!
“Love the new paint job, Y/N?” Carol’s snarky tone cut through your internal breakdown. “I think it suits you.”
Something snapped inside of you as you gradually made your way over to before punching her square in the nose. Carol fell backwards, collecting her bearings before charging at you. As you both fell to the ground, the crowd started screaming and chanting.
Suddenly, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and lift you off the girl underneath you. You fought trying to get back to her but it was no use.
“Y/N! Stop! Stop it!” Eddie held you tighter to him as he tried to calm you down.
“Get the fuck off of me!”, you shouted.
“Stupid bitch! This isn’t over!”, Carol screamed as Tommy cupped her face in his hands.
“Yes, it is!” Steve’s voice boomed over everyone else’s as he placed himself in front of you. “Stop this now. No more name calling or humiliating her. Just leave her the fuck alone.”
“What’s it to you?”, Tommy asked. “We’re your friends and if I recall Stevie boy you laughed along with us when we were doing that so called ‘humiliation’ in the past.”
“You’re not my friends anymore. Now get the fuck out of my face or else I will make yours look exactly like your girlfriend’s.”
They glared at each other before Tommy turned around and tugged Carol’s arm as they headed for their car. Steve swiveled his body to face you as you continued to fight against Eddie’s hold. As soon as they are far enough away and the crowd had dissipated, he releases you and you promptly fly towards the other boy, smacking him in the face.
“How could you do this to me!? I thought you were different! How could you tell them everything?!”
You fist flew again and he immediately caught your wrist, spinning you around till your back was against his chest.
“Eddie. Van.”
You continue to struggle as he clings to you, pushing you forward to follow the metalhead. Once they reach his vehicle, Eddie climbs in and starts the engine while Steve throws you in the back, crawling in behind you.
The van begins to move as you continue to fight and push, him allowing it before capturing you again and trapping you in his lap. What’s happening? Where are they taking me? How could he do this? How could he do this? How could he—"
“VANILLA!”
As soon as you shout the safe word, Eddie stomps on the breaks causing all the three of you to tilt forward. You climbed out of the bed of the van, tears clouding your vision as you began to walk away.
“Y/N, wait.” Steve tries to grab your arm, ducking when you take another swing. “Please, I’m trying to respect your boundaries but you need to stop hitting me!”
“How could you do that!?”
“Do what?! What do you think I did!?”
“You told them! You told them I like being degraded and used!”
“Y/N, I haven’t talked to either of them since my party on Saturday.”
“Oh, fuck you! So, Carol just happens to call me a whore the day after we talk about it over the phone?!”
“I swear on my life I only told Eddie about that call. Honestly, it’s kind of pissing me off that you think I would ever stoop that low and hurt you like that! I may be an asshole but I’m not a complete fucking asshole.”
“That makes no sense.”, Eddie chuckles behind him. Steve rolls his eyes as he places his hands on his hips.
“How can I trust you, Steve? Tommy was right. You laughed along with them many times. What am I supposed to think?”
The man sighs as he begins to angrily pace. A thought shimmers in his eyes before he marches towards the van and sits on the back end.
“What are you doing?”, you ask as he starts taking off his shoes.
“I don’t know how to show you that you can trust me especially after all the fucked up shit that I’ve done so I’m going for the next best thing.”
Eddie’s jaw drops as Steve takes off his shirt and pants, exposing himself for anyone who should be driving by.
“Tell me what I have to do. I’ll stand here all night or I can go back to the school and saunter down the hallways with my dick hanging out. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.” A smile creeps across your face causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t say a word. Carol says stupid shit like that all the time. It’s like the only words she knows are ‘Whore. Bitch. And Tommy is it in yet.”
You laugh hard at that as he gradually steps toward you. “May I hug you?” As soon as you nod, he arms descend around you, clinging to your body. When you hiss, he pulls back slightly, seeing the blood glistening on your shoulder. “Munson.”
“Oh shit. Yeah, I have some stuff at the trailer. Looks like she scratched you good, sweetheart. Do you feel safe enough to come over or do you want me to take you home?”
“I can come over.”
##############
Eddie’s room was completely different from Steve’s but exactly how you would picture it when it came to the metalhead. It was a total mess which didn’t seem to bother him at all as he tore through the area looking for something to take care of you. The band posters on the wall made you smile as they were some of the bands you and Masie always listened to when you slept over.
You reached out and picked up a folder hanging slightly off his nightstand. “Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Screen”. As you flip through it, your eyes take in all the monster and story information he’s collected, smiling at the sloppy notes he’s written along to side.
“Steve, is there a particular reason you haven’t put your clothes back on?”, Eddie asks as he throws himself down on the bed next to you. “Take this off, babe.”, he whispers softly as he tugs at the hem of your shirt.
“It was to prove a point but now I’m just comfortable.”, he chuckles.
“Shit. I have to call my dad. May I?”, you ask as you reach for his phone.
He nods as he places the damp rag in his hand on your shoulder and you hiss at the sting. Eddie’s other hand runs through your hair down the back of your head and you smile at the gesture as you dial your home phone.
“Jesus, Y/N, where are you? You were supposed to be home 30min ago.”
“I know, mom. I’m sorry. My car kind of gave out on me so Masie’s dad towed it to the shop. I’m still here.”
“Hm. Well, I’m glad you’re ok. Will you be spending the night again? I need to know so I can tell your dad.”
Your eyes shift between the men in front of you as you try to decide. “Um, yeah. I will be spending the night. That way I can pick up my car in the morning before school.”
“That’s a good idea. Ok, sweetie. Have fun with Masie and we’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Look at you, you bad girl.”, Eddie grins as you hang up the phone. “What gives you the idea that you CAN spend the night here, hm?”
“SOMEONE informed me that you both like sleeping beside me naked so… I figured I’d utilize the opportunity.” You beamed up at him as he removed the rag and tossed it to the side.
“Um, fuck, I don’t have any bandages or anything. Not ones big enough for this.”
“It’s ok. It doesn’t really hurt as much anymore…”
“I can grab some from the corner store when I go get her car later.”
“Oh, Steve, you don’t have to do that—”
“Do you not want me to?”, he cut you off.
“Um, I mean, I don’t mind. I’m just saying—”
“Ok. Case closed.”
Eddie rolls his eyes as the other man leans back flat on his bed, reaching on to his floor, and throwing a pair of sweats at him. “At least but on some pants for right now for God’s sake. I think you proved your point.”
###########
@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch
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#steddie x reader#steddie fluff#steddie smut#steddie fanfiction#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie fanfic#eddie stranger things#steve fanfic#steve smut#steve stranger things#joe keery#joseph quinn#stranger things#fan fiction#steddie x you#steddie x y/n#steve fluff#dom!steve harrington#dom!eddie#sub reader#steddie x plussizereader#steve x plus size reader#eddie x plus size reader#plus size reader
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