#my coloring is a little different but maybe kind of the same
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Ooohhh how about different eras of luke (ROTJ is my fav if doing one is easier) and maybe some modern dilf!luke 👀 reacting to you laying your head on his shoulder when you’re tired or have a headache pre-relationship?
Anonnn, you don't understand, I'm obsessed with this ask. I just HAD to do every single Luke era plus the Dilf AU as the cherry on top because it's been so long since I last wrote something wholesome😩
also it reminds me of the posts I used to do when I first started writing and ngl I'm feeling a little nostalgic
• sweet ANH Luke with his open smile and honest eyes is so easy to approach and befriend, resting your head on his shoulder comes almost naturally
• though unbeknownst to you he'd immediately be on the brink to loose his mind
• already he tends to be a little jittery with nerves whenever you randomly appear in the same room he is in
• even more so now that he's finally admitted his major crush on you to himself
• so just imagine his excitement the moment you decide to sit next to him
• as soon as your head touches his shoulder he goes bright red and doesn't dare to move in fear of accidentally shooing you away, his heart beating wildly in his chest
• for a slight moment he forgets how to breathe, though it's not like he minds
• this is the best day of his life
• not only does he finally get to feel the warmth of having you so close by his side, but also your soft hair aginst his cheek if he dares to tilt his head just a little bit
• when eventually he manages to somewhat normalize his breathing, his thoughts will start to wander
• he's SO proud you're clearly comfortable and feeling safe with him
• but should he strike up a conversation? Ask how you're doing? If everything's okay?
• maybe he could make you laugh
• your hands look so soft; what if he were to reach out and just take them in his?
• would you mind?
• he's not sure, his aren't as pretty and smooth as yours
• you smell very nice
• wouldn't your current position make you look like a couple to an outsider passing by?
• what if, and he feels very bold just considering, but, what if you...like him?
• quickly enough he has a very hard time remaining calm
• and how could he? He needs to tell someone about this RIGHT NOW
• good luck trying to catch ESB Luke sitting still for even once
• though should you be as lucky to catch him during a moment of rest and manage to lean on him, he'll feel similarly as ANH Luke; excited, a little nervous even, though not as much as his younger self would have been
• still he has to fight off the blush rising into his cheeks and will absolutely deny ever changing colors should someone (especially Leia, Han or even R2) point it out
• at the same time he wishes for as many as possible to witness this very monumental moment, hoping everyone will see that you're leaning on HIS shoulder
• HIS!
• yeah that's right! In your face, (add in name of random rebellion member that also takes an interest in you)!!!
• if he's feeling extra bold, he may use the chance to put an arm around your shoulder
• but very carefully so; he's afraid to overstep any of your boundaries
• after all he's not sure if you'd even like to be held
• there's only one problem: how is he supposed to do anything now?
• he has places to be, things to do, an Empire to fight!
• he's getting kind of warm too
• more than that actually
• Force, are you hiding a heater under all of your layers of clothing?
• also he just remembered; isn't there a meeting he has to attend?
• shouldn't he be working to improve his x-wing?
• he'll check on you out of the corner of his eye, trying to get a feeling for how long you plan to stay like this
• he needs to come up with a way to notify the others of his delay
• because there's no way he's moving even a single muscle
• he's not leaving you behind
• he simply can't!
• not when he was just chosen as your designated spot to rest your pretty but, admittedly, very heavy head
• but not to worry, of course he can handle it!
• he'll be here as long as you need him to be
• RotJ and post RotJ Luke is hard to keep tabs on and thus hard to find
• all you can hope for is to encounter him by pure chance, as he seems to simply have evaporated whenever you wander around searching for him
• though despite his withdrawn ways he's always welcoming and inviting should you happen upon him
• he, above anyone else, understands the importance of rest during a busy day
• he smiles mildly to himself as soon as you settle down and scoot close enough for your arms to touch
• the emotions you are unconsciously emitting, may it be nervousness, excitement or shyness, amuse him a great deal and he's keen to see whether you'll overcome them this time or not
• I don't think he'd tell you outright that he enjoys your presence, that it tends to calm him down and to ease his mind, until much later
• but despite what he is or isn't saying he can't help but feel a little warm inside whenever you come across him during the day
• despite that he can never not worry at least a little bit about your well-being and immediately feels the need to check in on you either with words or a gentle probe with the Force to make sure you're okay
• if he has the time to stay with you for a while he asks if you'd like to lay down
• see, he can shuffle to the side a little and then you could rest your head on his thigh instead of on his shoulder
• wouldn't that be more comfortable?
• he doesn't have a blanket in case you're cold, but maybe you could use his cloak?
• it's not the best, maybe a little rough and still a little dirty from his last trip as he didn't have the time to wash it yet, but it does a good job of keeping a person warm
• he doesn't show how happy he is should you follow his invite and agree to rest beside him, though maybe Leia would notice
• and possibly so would you by how he'd start to absentmindedly stroke your head and play with your hair whenever others are around to keep him properly distracted
• I think Dilf!Luke's reaction would really depend on the current situation/ on how far your relationship has already developed at that point
• here it's important to note though that he'd never tell you off or send you away for initiating contact, not even after just recently getting to know you
• yes he's standoffish and withdrawn, cold in demeanor, seemingly displeased with your presence in his house
• but when it comes down to it he is kind, always has been, even if he hides it away to protect himself
• his behavior towards you is nothing personal; the emotions you call forth are his to deal with
• he may try to at first but ultimately knows deep down that he can't hold you accountable for how his past still troubles him
• he's a father, deeply caring in nature
• no matter what, he could never bring himself to deny anyone his child's age comfort
• though he might be a little confused about why you chose him, of all people, to rest your head on
• after all it's not like he's been going out of his way to be peculiarly inviting or nice - quite the contrary actually
• he'll remain very still for the duration of your vicinity, involuntarily stiffening not only out of surprise but because it's been so long that anyone outside of his immediate family initiated intimacy
• he's so touch starved, so used to rarely feeling a person's warmth, that your simple act catches him off guard
• suddenly he has no idea what to do, how to continue on after
• for your own good and his child's sake he wants to keep you at an arm's length and yet...
• if he wasn't enamored with you before, he is so now
• he thinks back to those moments of doubt and insecurity frequently
• but where they once haunted him, they now serve as a reminder for how far he's come and what he was able to finally leave behind
• he's proud of himself too, yes, but most of all to call you his
• every little touch of yours, and may it be one as innocent as laying your head on his shoulder, fills him with joy
• never, in a thousand years, would he once have believed to be in a position to reciprocate your gentle displays of trust and affection
• but now that he can, now that everything feels a little less like a dream, it's all he wants to do
• (and he does)
• (forehead kisses are his favorite way to, he can't help it)
• (not when you placed yourself so conveniently)
#ask#luke skywalker#luke skywalker x reader#luke skywalker x you#luke star wars#star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars headcanons#star wars a new hope#star wars empire strikes back#star wars return of the jedi#dilf luke#dilf luke skywalker#star wars au
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drinking with suga
#ultkpop#networkbangtan#bangtanarmynet#kgfxnet#btshoneyhive#kvanity#btsgif#dailybangtan#usersky#tusercelia#jminparks#tuserjay#melontrack#boongietrack#userjeonjcngkook#mgifs#m:bts#myg#my coloring is a little different but maybe kind of the same
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misc photo diary stuff.. also this unintentionally all matches sort of lol.. warm toned photos?
#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1 & 2. A very pale dusty warm sort of sky. Love the tone of it. All shades of gray skies are amazing.#3. Some flowers outside of a building I walked by. I like the chunky petals and interesting muted color#4. bapy son enjoying the sunlight#5. Picture of a moon and I think two stars or maybe planets or something near it? :0#6. little lines drawn onto the carpet with sunlight from the window blinds#7. The moon illuminating the clouds to an unuusally bright degree. Very inchresting.. It isn't even captured well in photos but in real lif#it kind of looked like everything in the sky was glowing#8. They had heart shaped strawberry biscuits at popeyes this February (I think for valentines day month?)#9. All of the various rocks I've picked up on the ground outside over the past few months. Now that I have a rock tumbler I'm always on the#lookout for interesting ones. Though I'm not sure what all of them are or how well they'd actually polish. I know there are rules about tha#and stuff lol. I do think it's neat how when they're all next to each other there's so many different patterns#and colors and stuff even though they were all taken from basically the same small span of just sidewalks and places along the city#I never travel to different states or anything or even go hours away within my own state.#photo diary
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slowly, i'm going down
access full masterlist here!
pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)
au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut
word count: 4816 words
warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!
synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice
or
mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.
a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞
taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife
Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.
Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).
And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.
Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.
He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.
Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.
The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.
A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!
Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?
The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.
A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!
"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.
"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.
"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"
Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.
Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.
"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.
"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.
"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.
"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.
Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?
A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.
"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?
"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.
"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.
"Mingi, focus-"
"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.
"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.
Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.
"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."
"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"
"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.
Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.
Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.
"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"
"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".
"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"
Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"
"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.
As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.
"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"
Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.
Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."
You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.
That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.
"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.
Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.
"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.
"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.
"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!
"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.
In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.
A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.
For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.
"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.
Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.
Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.
Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.
And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.
Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.
He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.
Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.
So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.
His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.
Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-
Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.
To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.
Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.
He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.
Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.
Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.
Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.
Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.
"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.
Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?
"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.
Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.
Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.
Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.
"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."
"Incubus," Mingi points out.
"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"
Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.
"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."
You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.
God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.
"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."
How did that get out there?
You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."
Cute?!
Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.
With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.
"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."
"Mingi- 's so good."
"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.
"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"
"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.
Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.
"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.
His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.
Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.
It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.
© 2023 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.
#mingi smut#ateez mingi smut#song mingi smut#ateez smut#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#ateez mingi#ateez song mingi#kpop#smut#kpop smut#fem reader#ateez x reader#mingi x reader
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Would He Peel The Orange?
(I hope this hasn't been done too much already, but I really wanted to do it)
So, if you've been in the same internet circle as I've been in, you probably know about this trend that's going around right now where people ask their partner to peel an orange for them.
It's supposed to kind of signify your partner's willingness to do something important to you, even if it seems mundane or even inconvenient for them.
So of course, I wanted to imagine what our favorite boys would do in this scenario.
Note: This is just for silly goofy times. A little ha-ha funny jape, if you will. Meaning not serious. If I think a character would not peel an orange, I don't think they're suddenly toxic or would not love the MC or anything.
"Could you peel an orange for me?"
Lucifer
To those of you who say he is too prideful to peel an orange for you, do I need to point out that he is the eldest sibling? Not only that, but he's practically a single mom. He has Sloth as the baby brother of the family. Do you think Belphie peels his own oranges? No! Lucifer probably cuts the crusts off of his brother's sandwiches for heaven sakes.
Is it heaven sakes or heaven's sake?... I actually don't know
However, I do think he would get suspicious, especially if you're trying to film his reaction. He would raise an eyebrow and know that there's something more to you just wanting an orange. Is this orange cursed? Is this a prank? You'll have to convince him it's perfectly normal before he straight up refuses.
Is he going to get up from his desk or move away from work to go grab you an orange? Probably not. But if you bring it to him, he will peel it for you, giving you a weird- and maybe slightly judging- look the entire time.
He will peel it very nicely, but you would have to take the peel back to toss yourself all while demanding to know why you have such a smirk on your face.
If you explain it to him, he'll definitely get a bit smug. "Who knew all it would take to prove my love to you was peeling an orange? If you needed some assurance, I would've gladly provided more for you."
He wins this one. He peeled the orange.
But...he might be asking his own favor from you later. So, minus one point for that, but they do say the devil dances in dealings, so...
7/10
Mammon
"Huh? Why do you need me to peel it for you, your hands broken or somethin'? I'm not your damn maid."
He is already peeling the orange. He is somehow managing to grumble and act like he's not doing it while he is in the process of doing it.
And if you don't have oranges on hand? Just give him any excuse to go shopping and he will take it. And not only will he peel those oranges, he'll buy them for you too.
And sure maybe he's a little ditsy and might not know what the difference between an orange, a tangerine, and a clementine is (they're all orange, dammit), but he will be buying you ALL of them just in case.
Listen, he's a man with impulse problems and an intense desire to be your number one demon.
Did he probably spend the next few hours in the store getting himself stuff as well? Probably, yeah. He see shiny, he get shiny.
But don't worry. He will peel you that orange.
And you will be eating an assortment of orange colored fruits for the next few days.
Is...this a peach?
9/10
Levi
If he's gaming, probably not. Some games can't be paused. And it's not even that he doesn't want to, he'll probably be glad to do so, but he'll do it once this round is over.
And then he'll probably forget. Which, fair, I do it too. You get into the zone and then six hours have passed. Sometimes the measure of love can't always be held behind an orange.
However!
If a controller is not in his hand and his mind is not occupied by several random colorful flashes, he might peel the orange.
BUT
If too many other people are around, he might get anxiety.
You know when you somehow manage to fumble peeling an orange? You can't manage to break the peel properly or you end up dropping it and looking like a fool?
If you've never had performance anxiety over peeling an orange, you... well that's actually really good, you must have a much more peaceful mind-- but it exists for us anxious people, okay?! It's too much pressure!
In the end, he's very situational! But that doesn't mean he refuses to peel you an orange! It would actually make him very happy to do that for you...
5/10
Satan
Very confused. Will ask too many questions before he does anything.
Are you hurt? Is the peel too tough for human fingers? If you're having a hard time using your fingers, why not get a knife or a tool to assist you? Why are you in his room rather than the kitchen? Is that not a waste of energy? What if he'd not been here, would you have wandered around?
He doesn't get it. He means well though.
He might get a little irritated, not so much at you as at himself. He feels like he's missing something.
Is this some form of human bonding? Are you afraid of the orange? What secrets does it hold?
He will peel it for you. He'll even put his book down to do so.
But please answer his questions, he can't find the logic in seeking him out just to peel a fruit for you. He can list off several other more efficient methods.
If you explain it to him, you'll see him visibly relax. So there was some deeper meaning.
Although now he might think that this form of act is some sort of love declaration. Prepare to have him peel and/or cut all your fruits from now on. Which... is actually kind of sweet. What a gentleman.
8/10
Asmo
No... with his nails?! Please. I've only worn fake nails like twice in my entire life, and doing anything like that with those little suckers hurts like hell. Why?? Tried to open a can once and thought my real nail would peel right off.
And even if he's not wearing fake nails, getting that pulpy orange peel underneath your fingernails?! Having the juice make your fingers all sticky? No. Awful. Bad texture. I've always headcanoned Asmo with texture issues, and if his are even close to being like mine, it's gonna be a no.
BUT
If you want an orange so badly, I can guarantee he knows all these cute little places around town that make delicious fruit selections! He'd probably go out and get you one of those beautiful and decorative edible fruit arrangements and make sure they somehow include lots of orange.
Or, if you don't want that and you just want a normal orange right NOW, he'll charm someone else to peel it for you, hon. Don't even worry.
And once it's peeled, to make up for not doing it himself, he'll be all to happy to feed it to you if you want him to. ~
Never underestimate the lengths he'll go to provide for you and himself at the same time.
6.5/10 I appreciate the hustle.
Beel
I... I mean... he's gonna eat it.
Love the man to death, but if you hand him an orange before you fully preface that it's yours and you just want it peeled, it's gone. He probably didn't even peel it before he ate it too. Probably just eats it like an apple.
But, but, but, he'll get you a new one. So please don't look so sad...
It might be best if you accompany him just in case, but he'll absolutely get you another one. Besides, he wants more himself now, that first one was delicious.
He'll gather a whole basket of oranges and you can share them together.
One slice for you...five for him. Another slice for you...
It make take a minute to get a full orange's worth, but it's about the attempt and the time spent. And he's technically actually peeling SO many oranges for you.
I'd also like to point out that I have actually written out a scene in one of my stories where Beel actually EXACTLY peels an orange FOR MC. WAY before this trend was a thing.
--Eventually he came across an orange, peeling off the wax shell meant to serve as extra preservation. Citrus flooded your nose. Your mouth actually watered at the scent, watching Beel strip the fruit before peeling it apart. A sniff, and then it was actually handed to you.
So he would! 100 times over! Even in my silly little side story where everyone is nearly on the brink of death and in a freezing wasteland, he would still peel an orange for you!
10/10 Minus one point for eating your orange first, plus one point for peeling you an orange in another universe.
Belphie
Y...yeah, no. No, he won't.
Or there's at least a very slim chance he will. He does get in weird moods sometimes where he wants to pamper you, but that's on his own terms and his own time.
He doesn't even peel his own oranges, as I previously stated in Lucifer's section.
If you just waltz up to him and ask him to peel it for you...there's a 95% chance he will not. Most of it being due to him being asleep. You would probably have a better chance trying to train him to peel an orange while sleepwalking. That might work. Would also probably make a good party trick.
But, he's weird at remembering details like this. Even if he doesn't act on it right now, it will be logged in his memory. You could mention something briefly once seven months ago and he'll bring it up to you and remember the conversation completely like it happened yesterday.
So, even if he doesn't peel the orange now, when he's in the mood, maybe after his nap, maybe the next day, maybe two weeks after in which you had forgotten it, he will bring you a peeled orange.
Either that or he'll do what Asmo does and make someone else peel it for you.
3/10
Diavolo
You want him to peel your orange for you? You mean... he gets to treat someone like that for once?! ABSOLUTELY.
He is all too happy to peel you an orange! This is like, groundbreaking for him. He gets to provide! Gets to hand you a tiny fruit, broken and prepared with his own two hands! Is this how Barbatos feels when he cooks?
How does one exactly peel an orange, though?... He's seen them whole like this before, but they're typically already in strips when he gets around to eating them.
Break the skin? What, like an egg?
Well...there goes your orange.
On the bright side, it seems he's very good at making orange juice.
But fear not! He'll have Barbatos bring another one!
Wait...look, see, they come pre-peeled. Oh...you mean Barbatos has been peeling all his fruits for him this entire time? He's never known the joyful luxury of unveiling and working for the literal fruits of his labor?! This will change today.
Get another orange, unpeeled, and he will do it himself this time!
It might take some personal discovery and some patience before he peels you an orange, but it will get done, he swears it!
11/10 Plus one point for wholesome life lessons and sheer determination.
Barbatos
An orange? Just a plain orange? If you wait just a moment, he could have an orange chiffon cake, or would you perhaps prefer some orange panna cotta? Orange Merengue pie? Pound cake? Made into a buttercream? A pudding? A sorbet? A sherbet? Served as a juice? Main flavor or just as a zest? Would you like a meal before dessert? Or he could always find healthier options for oranges? Would you like him to list of those options as well?
Okay, so... he overcorrects a little bit.
Bottom line is, he'd peel you an orange. He'd make an entire seven course meal based around oranges. Make it all the color orange if you'd prefer.
Like I said though, he tends to overdo it.
He falls into his royal butlery habits and misses the fact that this is supposed to be so important to you because it's so simple. Although it's cute the way an ever powerful ever perfect being can miss such a detail.
You might have to put your foot down a bit and not let yourself get carried away in the splendor. You just want this orange. This one orange, and if he could just peel it for you, that's all you want.
So he'll take his gloves off and peel it for you. He'll make sure all the extra little white strands are plucked off as well. And he double checks it for seeds.
Are you sure this is all you want? "I guess something so simple can often be taken for granted. I forget that sometimes."
12/10 He'll probably still end up making you several other orange treats and he learned a valuable lesson today. It's a win for everyone.
Simeon
Are you kidding me?
This man probably brought the orange with him. You probably didn't even need to bring it up! He's single dad with two one kid and a sorcerer. He's like that sweet mom who always has certain things on hand. Medicine? Bandages? Spare cash? Candy? Gum? He's got it. He puts the Guardian in guardian angel.
You want that orange? He'll peel that orange, you just hold on. Let's make sure your hands are clean. Use this hand sanitizer he brought with him. Here, have a granola bar while you're at it. Are you hungry? You didn't skip lunch, did you? Here, take this water bottle, you look a bit dehydrated.
Oh dear, and your hands feel so dry! Here, he brought some lotion.
This angel is 100% fully here for you. You are about to be so taken care of.
Not even oranges. You want your apples fully peeled and sliced? Got it. Want something pitted? He can do that too. He'd be willing to stain his fingers and clothes on a pomegranate for you. How is he doing this even outside of the house? Magic or something probably.
He'd pack you an orange in a cute little bag with a hand written note and a short poem.
This man is a real one.
100/10 He definitely thinks that LOL means lots of love.
Solomon
Are...you sure you know what you're doing? He will absolutely peel you an orange, but at what cost?
If you're not careful, not only will he peel you an orange, but he'll add some of his Special Solomon Spices to make your experience all the more... thrilling.
Quite like how thrilling bungee jumping in the dark could be...
Also, he might just try to peel it with magic, which, while nice of him, defeats the purpose of the entire test.
You'll have to specify he's to do it by hand, and keep an unblinking, ever-careful eye on him to make sure he doesn't 'enhance' the flavor.
But, all in all, he does it. Quite happily too, one might add.
Are you sure you just want an orange? He'd be glad to whip something up for you if you're feeling peckish!
You kind of... tempt fate with this one.
2/10 One point for wanting to peel the orange, one point for trying to go the extra mile. But... well... Will you survive is the thing? You might want to try to measure his love for you using different non-edible methods.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon
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some vernon x acts of service fluff for you ♡
vernon dyed his hair black this morning. he kind of loves it, and he hopes you will too. obviously the execution isn’t perfect; there are some dark stains on his ears and his forehead and he ruined two t-shirts in the process. but he knows how much you love that color on him.
this afternoon, vernon did some shopping. he needed a new shirt and he remembered the pretty bracelet that had caught your eye last time you were in town. he hopes you’ll be happy when he gifts it to you.
and this evening, vernon cooked dinner. it’s not done yet, but it will be in about thirty minutes. mingyu sent him an easy yet sophisticated recipe which he followed to the letter, and it turned out pretty well, at least on the outside. he hopes you’ll like it.
it’s past 7pm when he hears your key turn in the front door’s lock. the oven is a bit greasy, there’s oregano spilled on the counter, the wrapping of your gift is a little messy, and his ears are red from his attempts to remove the dye from his skin. perhaps from stress too.
and suddenly it hits him. he feels stupid. what if he’s doing too much? it is too much, isn’t it?
“hi handsome” your voice pulls him out of his panic as he exits the kitchen, his hands a little moist. you’re ready to lean in for a kiss, it’s almost muscle memory at this point, but the sight of his hair makes you pause.
“love it. and love the new shirt”, you reply, letting your hand brush against the strands of hair on his forehead before finally going in for the kiss. “what’s that smell? did you cook something?”
his ears turn a new shade of red as he grabs your arm to lead you to his living room. “i did, but you don’t wanna go in there right now”, he warns you, grabbing your arm to lead you to the living room instead.
it’s rather unusual for vernon to look so agitated, especially around you. you look at your surroundings, trying to notice anything different.
“is everything okay?”
he nods, a bit faster than usual, before digging his hand in his pocket and pulling out a small gift with a wonky ribbon on top.
“got you a little something today. but you can return it if you don’t like it, or even if you change your mind in a few days. or weeks. or even months, really.”
you’re only now noticing the dye stains on his skin, which draws a chuckle out of you. he looks so frantic it’s almost comical. without a word, you put the gift aside and stand up, pretty sure to know what this is all about.
“i already know i love that gift. i’ll love it forever and i would not trade it for any other. ever. because it comes from you, and that’s all i want.”
completely unfazed by how easily you saw right through him, he looks down at the hand you’re still holding, the one with a brand new silver ring on his fourth finger.
your words were heard and understood, but you can feel him internally tiptoeing around what’s really on his mind. his eyes, however, carry the same sweetness they always do when he looks at you.
“this is gonna sound really dumb but, i just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured to love… my gift. or to commit to it. i promise i won’t be mad if you tell me you don’t want it”, he tells you, grabbing your other hand to get a look at your own ring, the exact same as him.
it’s now 7:25pm, meaning that it’s been almost 24 hours since vernon has gotten down on one knee to ask the most nerve-wracking question of his entire life. 24 hours since you were legally allowed to call him your fiancé, a much awaited upgrade from the ‘boyfriend’ status.
last night had been a dream come true. but this morning, an uneasy feeling had started crawling into vernon’s mind, making him feel like maybe that dream of his would never come true after all.
dyeing his hair, making dinner, buying gifts, he had really thought about doing anything in his power to keep you from second-guessing your answer from yesterday.
still, nothing would calm his mind except maybe hearing the words from your mouth.
“i’ll love your gift because i love you. and because i spent the last 24 hours on cloud nine, thinking about how lucky i am that you proposed”, you told him in your calmest voice. “i’ll be honest, i even spent my entire day practicing saying “my husband” instead of “boyfriend”… and it sounds really, really nice.”
and that is the exact moment when the crushing weight of doubt and insecurity is lifted from vernon’s shoulders.
he still feels a bit stupid, but in a way that feels great, warm and almost comforting. for the second night in a row, he’s overwhelmed by the pure yet simple feeling of knowing his love is perfectly reciprocated.
“so… does that mean you still want me to be your husband?” he asks with a relieved smile as you trap him in the tightest hug, one hand running in his freshly dyed locks.
he loves you and you love him, that’s the one thing he doesn’t need to hope for. he knows it, and oh how he loves knowing it.
#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#vernon x reader#vernon fluff#vernon imagines#hansol x reader#seventeen vernon
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1) We’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. Your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.
this screams eddie omg
best friend!eddie munson x fem!reader + we’re having a movie night, just like we’ve always done. your thigh is touching mine, and my thoughts won’t stop wandering.
warnings: a bit of perv!eddie. a tiny bit. mentions of oral sex (fem receiving) and fingering. i kind of went a little off the prompt? oopsies?
Eddie can't pay attention.
He should be. Dustin is going to quiz him about this movie’s entire plot, ask him who his favorite characters were, what he thought of the lore. The boy, a senior now, much to his disbelief, had begged him to go see it after watching it himself.
It's not like he's hard to convince. A noble dwarf sent on a quest to save an innocent child from an evil sorceress. His bread and butter. Extra buttery popcorn, chocolate, you. Right beside him, wearing his jacket, feet tucked under yourself as you lean sideways over him, bare knees touching his denim covered thighs.
You're barely touching, but he can't help but let his eyes travel to your thighs, stretching the skirt you are wearing. The hand he keeps diligently on the arm rest flexes, the other grips his drink harder.
This attraction isn't new — it has been here since you started tutoring him on English at the start of his last senior year, and it remained, ever blossoming, every time you were around him — but his wandering thoughts recently grew a mind of their own.
The film’s dialogue and epic soundtrack are only background to his own private fantasy. Eddie can barely touch the popcorn, barely listen to your commentary, as he thinks of what he'd do if you let him do what he couldn't stop thinking about.
Would you let him touch you? Slide a hand over your thigh, feel your skin under his palm. Would it be as soft as he imagined? Softer, maybe. He thinks about what you would do if you let him squeeze you as he wanted, part your thighs with his rough hands, spread you open.
You're sitting in the back, no one would catch you. Would you be quiet as he kneeled at your feet? Would you be quiet if he asked? He'd ask nicely. You'd be good, he knew you would.
Would you bite your lip, taste your own lip gloss the way he dreamed of tasting, as he pulled your panties past your hips, and down your legs? What color would they be? Red, black, white? Cotton or lace? He wanted to taste them. He could practically smell you.
Would you keep quiet as he feasted on you, made out with your pussy like he wanted to? How would you sound keeping those sweet moans back, biting your hand, pouting those lips at him? Would you whimper, would you pull his hair? God, he wanted you to.
He wanted to suck on your clit until your pretty eyes rolled back in your head. Fuck you with his tongue until you cream on his mouth, and squeezed his head between your thighs. Would you let him fuck you with fingers after? Would you feel as tight, as warm, as he dreamed? He knew you would.
“Eds?”
A snap of your fingers brings him back to reality. You're still in the same position, he's still staring straight forward, eyes glazed, mind far. His head snaps to the side, meeting your gaze. “Hey. Yeah?”
“Are you listening to me? Where were you, man?”
You're whispering, a smile on your face. Your face is closer, and his eyes wander yet again, this time to your lips. He's still not paying attention — his Levi’s feel tighter, his heart is racing. His mind must be playing a trick on him, because your eyes are also wandering, to his lips and back up.
“I'm here.” His voice falters.
“You sure?” You don't move. Your perfume makes him dizzy, but he doesn't move either.
“I'm all ears, sweetheart.”
You chuckle, “Forget about it.”
It feels like a test. It must be, because you're resting your head against his shoulder, and going quiet again. Something different hangs in the air.
He's still gripping his arm seat. He's still not paying attention.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic
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Quiet 4
P1 P2 P3 P5 P6 P7 P8
pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo
summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk.
warnings: mentions of bullying, fighting
I turned my head but he was gone. I groaned as I followed the path that we took yesterday when we were walking home. I knew that he'd freak out without his sketchbook, but I also wanted to make sure he was okay. He looked pretty upset before he darted off.
I tugged the sketchbook tight to my chest as I walked towards the familiar path on the sidewalk. I thought to myself as I walked. Is it werid that I'm following him back to his house? I don't even know which house he lived in. Does he even want to be followed?
Yesterday when he ran off, I noticed the neighborhood he walked into before he moved out of my sight. I just had to rely on my instincts of which house was his. I was fine to knock on every house until I gave him this book back.
I looked down at the book as I walked, wondering what was in it. Curiosity hit me as I stared down at the basic black sketchbook. My hand moved over the leather. My fingers dragged down the spine of the old book.
My fingers came under the corner of the cover.
“Can I see one of your drawings?"
He shook his head
I swallowed as I removed my fingers from opening it and hugged it back towards my chest. If I had something as personal as this, I wouldn't want other people to go through it. Even if it was just drawings. He didn’t want me to see it. I respected that.
I looked up as I turned into the neighborhood. Nice houses. I glanced around at the brown bricks of the houses lining the street.
Where are you quiet boy?
I felt a turn in my chest of how big the houses were. They weren't mansions, but they were family homes. Big enough for a backyard and dogs. Maybe a family cookout if they wanted.
My gut turned of odd jealously. I'd never been ashamed of the fact that my family never had a ton of money. Mostly because no one ever figured out. No one ever came to my house for sleepovers. I never had those kind of friends before.
We were comfortable, we had enough money to survive. I looked down at my feet as I breathed in. Key word, were.
After my mom died, everything changed. My already small house turned smaller, the meals turned scarce, and the extra money vanished.
I looked up.
Now's not the time for a pity party Y/n, you're fine. I glanced over the houses. I stopped on my feet as I scanned the houses. Which one screams quiet boy?
Most of the houses had their windows open, cars and bikes lining the driveway and various flags representing different sports teams.
Except one.
The shutters were closed, no cars in the driveway and mail splilling out of the mailbox. I felt my heart tug towards the house. I took in a breath as I started towards the house.
I stepped around the mailbox and down the pavement towards the front door. I swallowed as I approached the front door and knocked on it softly and stepped back.
I stared at the door as I waited for a response. A few seconds past. I suddendly realized if someone knocked on quiet boy's front door, would he even answer? Does he live with anyone else? What am I doing here? Am I stupid for this? He probably doesn't even want--
The door lock turned and I looked up from my thoughts as the door as it opened.
A boy stared down at me, but it wasn't quiet boy. It was someone who looked exactly like him. My eyes widened. I didn't know he had a twin brother. His eyes were just as blue as quiet boy’s, and his hair was the same color. The only difference was he didn't wear the glasses and his hair was a little longer.
"You're not quiet boy" I mumbled as I just stared up at him in slight shock. He raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?" He snapped slightly. My eyes widened at his tone. I swallowed and shook my head.
"Sorry. Is a boy who kind of looks like you--but isn’t you--here?" I asked softly. His eyes narrowed at me and he glanced down at the book against my chest.
“He wears glasses, if that helps” I stated. He looked up at me, narrowing his eyes. I swallowed.
"Why do you have Matt's sketchbook?" He opened the door a little wider, but not enough to see inside the home. My mouth dropped slightly.
Matt, his name was Matt.
"Matt?" I asked softly. He furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah Matt. That's Matt's sketchbook. Why do you have it?" He asked a little aggressively. My heart started to beat faster.
I couldn't help but imagine if Matt, I guess that was his name, spoke to me if he would have the tone or attitude that his supposed brother has towards me right now. I didn’t think he would.
"He-He dropped it. I was just going to bring it back to him" I explained myself the best I could with the nerves from his judgmental stare on me.
He crossed his arms over his chest.
"How do you know Matt?" He questioned. I opened my mouth and then closed it not exepecting to be hounded when I knocked on the door. "I-I don't really. I mean, we sit together at lunch but--we go to the same school" I said shaking my head. He raised his eyebrows as he stared down at me.
"And why do you think you can just---"
"Chris, who's at the door?" Another voice came before the door opened wider and another boy looked down at me. My face fell slightly. I recognized him. From his pause, he recognized me too.
Fuck.
"You're the girl who stole the bandaids" He stated causally. My eyes widened and Chris, I guess was the first boy's name, snapped towards the boy next to him.
I swallowed feeling my face heat up. He was the worker from the convenient store that I went to. I shook my head. "I-I didn't steal anything" I lied unconvincingly. My hands shook against the book I was holding.
The boy sighed and rolled his eyes.
"I get paid $10 an hour to sit there and check people out, you think I care if a girl comes in and pockets $3 bandaids? I have bigger problems and for all I know, if I had said something, you could have shot me or something. It's not worth it" He said shaking his head.
Embarrassment washed over me from the statement “$3 Bandaids”. I bit down on my lip. I wanted to disappear. "I didn't have a gun" I whispered softly. He sighed and looked over at Chris.
"She's a thief?" He asked staring at the taller boy. I stared at my shoes, getting ready to hand them the sketchbook and run away.
"Do you want to come inside?" The boy who accused me of stealing asked. I looked up and he smiled sightly as If he didn't just call me out for stealing.
"What?" Chris asked glaring up at the boy. He looked back down at Chris and rolled his eyes before pushing him out of the way and opened the door for me to step in. I just looked at him, frozen on my feet.
"You robbed me blind, the least you can do is come inside when I invite you in" He tilted his head at me. I could have cried, but I swallowed the lump in my throat. He saw the discomfort on my face.
"Hey, I'm kidding. I don't care about the bandaids. I'm just joking with you, come in" He motioned me inside. I swallowed and nodded and stepped into the house.
It was warm in there, despite the coldness of the Boston air outside. I audibly sighed from the warmth overtaking me. I turned and looked back at them once he closed the door behind me.
Chris glared at me and the other boy smiled. I gave a nervous smile.
"I'm Nick by the way" The one smile holding out his hand said. I looked down at his hand before releasing one of mine that was holding the book and shaking it loosely.
"Y/n" I replied.
"Matt's never mentioned you" Chris was quick to reply. Nick turned and glared at him. "Matt doesn't mention anyone Chris, lay off her" Nick snapped. I just looked between their silent battle.
I glanced around the house. It was pretty bare. There were a few pictures and decorations, but it lacked something. A women's touch. It was clear the way the house was that only boys lived here. I wondered where Matt was, if he was here. Where his room was.
"Do you want something to drink? You can sit on the couch" Nick offered looking at me. I looked back at them and stared. Genuine. I looked at Nick and he smiled genuinely at me. I smiled softly and nodded. Nick nodded and looked to Chris.
Chris glared at him and looked back at me. He started to walk away.
"Watch her, make sure she doesn't steal anything" He mumbled as he walked out of the living room. My gut clenched and that sentence was like a punch in the gut. I just watched as Chris left the room into the kitchen. I looked back toward Nick.
"I'm not gonna steal anything" I practically whispered. He sighed and walked around and sat down in a chair. I just turned and watched him as he walked. I still held the sketchbook close to me.
"I know you won't. If I were you I would have stolen the new fast phone charger, those are like $30 for no reason. It would have been a better investment" He said looking up at me. I opened my mouth and shook my head.
"Y/n, it was a joke. Sit please" He motioned to the couch. I closed my mouth and nodded. Joke, right. I moved towards the couch before sitting down on the couch across from him. I kept the sketchbook on my lap as I took in a breath.
Chris returned and handed me a water. I smiled softly up at him and he grumbled and sat down in the chair next to Nick. I just stared at them and they stared at me. I swallowed. This felt like an interogation.
"I didn't know Quiet-Matt-" I corrected myself quickly. "Was a twin" I mumbled as I stared at them. Chris furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me.
"Well, he doesn't. There are three of us. That would make us triplets, or can you not count?" He spoke viscously. I licked my lips.
Nick hit Chris in the arm and Chris glared at him.
"No, I can count" I whispered looking at Chris. Chris pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair. "And don't call him quiet boy, it's rude" He stated blankly. Nick took in a breath and closed his eyes. I shook my head and looked between them.
"I didn't mean it in a rude way--I didn't know his name" I defended myself. "Well, It's Matt. How would you feel if everyone went around calling you thief girl? You wouldn't like that would you?" Chris snapped. I bit my lip to keep it from quivering.
"No" I whispered. "Stop, Chris. She didn't know" Nick glared at him. Chris mumbled to himself and looked away. I looked down at my feet suddenly feeling horrible about myself. Nick leaned forward on his arms, sighing.
"So you and Matt are friends?" He asked softly. Chris stared at me, waiting for my answer. "Yes--Well no. I don't really know. We sit together at lunch. He doesn't really talk to me, but he doesn't really tell me that he wanted me to not sit with him. I get the vibe that if he didn't, I would know" I tried to explain.
Nick nodded. "If he doesn't get up and walk away then I'm sure he doesn't mind" He explained. I nodded, that made me feel a little better about annoying Matt as much as I do. "He's a good listener" I smiled. Chris scoffed. Nick glared at him. Silence came around us.
"Why do you have his sketchbook? Did you steal that too?" Chris snapped at me. My eyes widened. "No--God, no. I just--" I shook my head. "He--dropped it" I lied. Chris narrowed his eyes at me and leaned forward on his arms.
"He dropped it?" He questioned staring at me. My eyes widened slightly as I leaned back on the couch wanting to escape his gaze.
"Chris"
"He doesn't let that sketchbook out of his sight and he just dropped it?" Chris tilted his head. I swallowed and closed my eyes. "No, there were these guys. They took it from him--" I attempted to explain.
"Why?" Chris asked sitting up. I blinked at him and looked at Nick who was also looking at me waiting for me to explain. I looked down at the book. "I dont know why, they were just...picking on him and took it and I took it back, but he kind of ran away before I could give itt back to him" I swallowed.
I could see the fire ignite behind Chris's eyes. He stood up from his chair and took in a breath. "Chris, don't" Nick said looking up at his brother. Chris looked around, flexing his fists. He looked back down at me.
"Who? Who was it? Who was picking on him?" He asked flexing the muscles in his jaw. I shook my head. "I-I don't know their names. They just--"
"Were they your friends? We're you involved?" He snapped. My face heated up. I shook my head. "N-No I don't even have any friends, I just moved here" I breathed shaking my head.
"Are you just trying to feel better about yourself by giving it back? Just because he's different you think it's funny to make fun of him?"
I closed my eyes and tried to disappear. I felt my eyes to start to water.
"I don't wanna go" I whispered. My dad snapped throwing the boxes down at my feet. "I don't care what you want. You're going and you're packing tonight!" He screamed. I turned away from him, barley reconizing him as he kicked my bookshelf down.
"I'm tired of your fucking attitude and I'm tired of you talking back to me. Pack." He snapped.
"Chris. Enough" Nick stood up matching Chris's height. I looked between them. They glared at each other. "She didn't do anything, She doesn't even know them. Lay off" Nick spoke loudly. Chris took in a breath and looked down at his feet.
"Go tell Matt she's here" Nick said softer looking at him. Chris took in a breath before looking down at me breifly and walking out of the room. I let go of a breath and looked away.
Nick sighed and sat back down in the chair.
"I'm sorry about him" He whispered shaking his head. I looked up at him. "He's just really protective over Matt" He mumbled. I nodded softly. I understood that. If my sibling was going through what Matt does, I'd be protective too.
"I promise I don't know who they were. I was just trying to help" I said shaking my head. Nick looked at me for a second and just nodded. "So you just moved here?" He asked softly. I finally felt my heartbeat return to normal.
"Yeah, with my dad. I'm from Flordia" I explained. Nick smiled. "I love Florida" He smiled. I nodded and looked down. "I did too" I mumbled feeling the knot in my stomach. Nick bit his lip as he looked at me.
"So you go to Heights then?" He asked. I looked up and nodded. "It my first week there" I explained. "You like it?" He asked. I shrugged. The only good part was Matt, even though I didn't really know if we were even friends. Everyone else was kind of mean there.
"You and Chris don't go there?" I asked. He shook his head. "Hockey's better at Sommerville. So me and Chris go there" He explained. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why doesn't Matt?" I asked softly. Nick sighed and looked away.
"He didn't want to" He explained blankly. I nodded deciding not to push the subject, it seemed like a loaded response. He didn't want to. I bit my lip and looked at him.
"Does..." I swallowed wondering if I should even ask this, if it would press a wrong button. It was better to ask it when Chris wasn't in the room. "Does Matt talk to you and Chris?" I asked softly. Nick sighed and pursed his lips.
"He communicates to us when he needs to, but he doesn't talk. He communicates in other ways" He explained broadly. I nodded, that made sense. I looked around and wondered what happened. Why Matt was like this. Why Chris and Nick weren't. They seemed so different from Matt.
"Has Matt always been....quiet?" I decided to use that terminology other than mute, it felt rude in a way. I knew I was walking on eggshells. Nick looked down the hall Chris walked through and looked back at me before sighing.
"No" He shook his head. "He-"
"Matt's in his room, you can go" Chris walked back in the room, cutting off Nick's explanation. I looked up at Chris. He looked down at me. I sat frozen on the couch. He shook his head and shrugged.
"Well? Go?" He spat pointing behind him. I blinked finally and grabbed the book and stood quickly passed Chris.
"It's the thrid door on the left" Nick said as I walked down the hall, wanting to get away from Chris as fast as possible. As I turned I heard Nick mumble something along the lines of "What the fuck is your problem?" To Chris but I didn't want to stay around and hear the responce.
One, Two, Third door on the left. I paused in front of it before reaching for the door handle and paused. I lifted my hand to knock instead. I knocked softly.
Only a few seconds passed before the door opened softly. Matt looked down at me his face in small destress. I swallowed. "Hey" I mumbled. His face blank, but emotion behind his eyes as he looked down at me.
I looked down at the sketchbook in my hands. "I have your--"
Within a second the door fully opened and he grabbed my arm, pulling me into the room and ripped the sketchbook out of my hands, closing the door. I looked up shocked from this sudden movement, i'd never seen him react so quickly.
He stared down at book in his hands and then up at me, fear crossing his face. His face asking questions his mouth wouldn't.
"I-I didn't look through it. I swear" I shook my head. His gaze didn't change. "I was going to, but--" I mumbled. He just looked at me. "I knew you didn't want me to, so I didn't" I explained shaking my head. He sighed and sat down on his bed, looking down at the book.
I just stood as I watched him. He ran his thumbs over the hard leather of the book. "I'm not really in to going through other people's things. It seemed personal so I left it be. I was just bringing it back to you" I whispered.
He glanced up at me, the fear slightly leaving his face. I bit down on my lip as I glanced around his room. There were vinyl records lining one of his book shelves and posters hung of different wood sceneries.
"I like your room" I said as I looked around. He looked up around his room as if he was inspecting it too. "It has a lot of things" I smiled. I wished my room would have looked something like this. It shows personality.
My room was bare.
"I sold most of my things before moving here" I explained walking towards him. Most of my personality going with those things, I wanted to add. He looked up at me as I sat down next to him on his bed. His eyes retreated to his book.
"I had to do something to pay for my plane ticket here" I breathed. Matt bit his lip looking down. "My dad said that If I didn't find a way to pay for the ticket, that I couldn't come" I whispered, remembering how hard it was to part ways with some of my previous books. Some of my favorite books, collectables. Rare covers. Special editions. My heart twisted as I remember.
Matt looked up at me, slight sadness and pity twisting on his face. My eyes widened when I realized what I had just admitted to him.
"Sorry--I don't know why I just told you that" I shook my head suddenly feeling embarrassed. I felt my face heat up as I stared at my lap. Matt's eyes stayed on me.
I looked up at him. His eyes stared into mine. He blinked a few times before looking away. I licked my lips. "So your name is Matt?" I asked. He looked back up at me. "Is it short for Matthew?" I asked softly. He paused before he nodded.
I smiled.
"I like that name" I whispered. There it was again. The corners of his mouth turning up. I smiled and looked down.
I know it was werid, but I enjoyed his presence. Maybe it was like an exciting game for me, to see if I could make him smile. Or maybe it was the fact that he listened to me, even if he was sometimes forced to. I liked being around him.
"I'm sorry for those guys, they were....assholes" I mumbled shaking my head. He stiftened beside me, but otherwise made no other reaction on his face. I looked up at him.
"But i'm glad you got your book back" I whispered. He looked down at me. He mouth parted slightly before he looked around, thoughts crossing his mind. I just watched him as he turned the book over and flipped to the back page, a blank page.
I just watched him as he opened the book and took a pencil out of his bag that was on the floor in front of us. He moved his hand over the page before pressing the pencil down on the paper. I looked up at his face as he hand moved agaisnt the page, his eyes focused.
After a few seconds it stopped. He looked up at me and I just looked at him. His eyes motioned to page and he held the book over to me slightly. I looked down to see he had written small words across the page. I narrowed my eyes as I read what he wrote.
Thank you, Y/n
we are getting somewhere folks
#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets
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The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.
Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.
"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."
He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."
You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."
It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."
"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.
"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV.
Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"
"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"
His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."
Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.
Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."
"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."
His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"
"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.
"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"
"Mommy left some in the fridge."
Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.
-----------------------------
"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"
You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."
"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.
You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."
Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"
You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."
"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."
"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.
After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."
Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."
You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."
Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"
"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"
"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.
You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."
"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."
You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.
"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.
"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.
"I don't."
-------------------------------
The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.
He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"
"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."
He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."
Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."
"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.
"Uhhh... just some stuff."
"Natasha."
"Bradley."
"What did you do?"
There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."
With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.
"She knows the plan."
He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"
Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."
"We have work on Friday-"
She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.
"Hi, Daddy."
He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"
Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."
"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."
You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."
Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."
You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."
He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?"
It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."
"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"
"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."
Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."
"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."
He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."
You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."
"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."
You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor.
"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."
"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"
You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently.
Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."
"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.
"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously.
"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."
When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"
"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.
"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."
You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.
When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache.
When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.
"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."
You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"
His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts.
"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.
"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.
"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."
You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."
"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."
---------------------------
As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it.
"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"
"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."
He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."
"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."
With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.
But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.
"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"
You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.
"Is it going to hurt?"
"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."
"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.
You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"
"That's adoption?" he asked.
"That's adoption."
"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"
The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."
"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for.
Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW
You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.
You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!
Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped.
You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head.
When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.
You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch.
Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned.
You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.
"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."
"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."
"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.
"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.
"Hi, Daddy."
And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.
"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him.
"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch.
He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"
When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."
"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."
You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.
But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.
You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"
"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.
"Bradley!"
He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."
"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.
"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."
You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"
"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."
Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.
"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."
He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.
------------------------------
Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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Lessons in Love.
Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.
Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings - None
Word Count - 3615
Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x
Masterlist. Requests.
“No way. How is that even possible?”
You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.
“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.
“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”
The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.
You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.
Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.
A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.
“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”
Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.
You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.
The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.
You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.
⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵
When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.
The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.
Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.
And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.
Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.
He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.
“Hi.”
Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.
“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.
“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”
You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.
It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.
You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.
He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.
“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.
“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.
“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.
You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.
You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.
“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.
“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.
“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”
You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.
“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.
“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.
Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?
He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.
He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.
“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”
Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.
“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.
He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.
At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.
Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.
“Bucky,” he murmurs.
You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.
“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.
“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”
You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.
You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.
“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.
“There’s more than one kind of milk?”
Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.
“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”
He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.
“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”
She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.
You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.
“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.
“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”
No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.
Instead, he answers cautiously.
“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.
“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.
Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.
“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.
You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.
Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.
“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.
“What, me?” you tease.
“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.
“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.
“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.
“Why don’t we do it together?”
A pause. He’s confused again.
“Do what together?”
“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”
It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.
You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.
“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”
Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.
“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.
“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”
He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.
You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.
“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”
He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.
“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.
⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵ ⋆ . ✵
You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.
Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.
“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.
You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”
He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.
You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.
Underneath your name, only one thing is written.
I love you.
You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,
“You do?”
That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.
“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”
You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.
“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”
He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.
“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.
He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?
You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.
He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.
Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –
“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”
I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader fluff#bucky x y/n#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes smut#marvel#marvel mcu#marvel imagine#marvel fluff#marvel x reader#reader insert#fanfic#fanfiction#marvel fanfic#fluff#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#winter soldier#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier fluff#bucky barnes x oc#marvel x oc
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Alicent's wedding dress
In the tv show we don't get to see Alicent's wedding. But at one point it was supposed to feature in an episode so we have behind the scenes content for it all the same. And I hate to say it, but it's not my cup of tea. The crown is interesting, but matches nothing any other major character wears. Where did it come from? Why? There are no answers. Why don't we see other Targaryen's have little shoulder wings? Because it looks silly? Yeah. So how could I resist trying my hand at designing her wedding dress? And I'll say it again, these are not easy costumes to design, I went back and forth over my options for a whole bunch of these over and over again. Maybe I'll figure out how to share the rejected designs I labored over at some point.
One of the things I am trying to emphasize is the sleeve differences. Alicent moves between the tear-drop shaped sleeves (like the ones here and in her first childhood friend dress, for her Targaryen-alliance outfits to match Rhaenyra) and what I'm going to call 'mushroom shaped' sleeves where the puff is at the shoulder and is tight from the elbow to wrist (anti/opposite Targaryen style). We should also see that in her necklaces. A lot of the Targaryen ladies wear thick gold choker-adjacent necklaces for the Byzantine collar effect. Alicent doesn't wear that kind of jewelry very often and this is one of the most Targaryen style-aligned necklaces that she wears. Also while her headdress is based on Byzantine fashion the crown is much more Northern-Europe Medieval than Byzantine. A little melding of fashion, hints at the opposing sides again.
I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram, tiktok or check out my coloring book available now \ („• ֊ •„) /
https://linktr.ee/ellen.artistic
#alicent hightower#team green#fire and blood#house of the dragon#redesigning hotd#ellenart#ellen artistic#character design#digital illustration#costume design#historically inspired#house hightower#medieval hightowers
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I love all of these goofy product photos where the water bottle is extremely obviously just photoshopped onto a stock image of someone pretending to hold something or whatever.. very convincing..
#the last one where the water bottle is like nearly the size of the woman's entire leg ghbjbjhh#ALSO I know.. gross.. nasty.. amazon.. I was only looking there because I was trying to find an exact replica of an old water bottle#I bought like 6 years ago in a store and I just wanted another one of those and it seemed like the only place the old manufacturer#still sold was through amazon but.. alas.. I think they just don't make them anymore. so I have abandoned my hunt#I didn't actually buy anything. but I did get distracted clicking through product images for a few of them#it's bizarre how like............... idk.. WHY is this done??? Isn't this offputting to basically ANY potential customer?? or do people#not look at every photo/read the entire page/all product information before buying??#all of these are from like front page ''top sellers'' or whatever like........... how does this not hurt the brand????#If the company can't even bother to take a single photo of a real life person using their real life product then... that to me#is kind of red flaggy..?? even if you're an indie start up small business with hardly any funds.. still#A real photo of the product you are selling in a real actual non-photo shopped environment does not seem that inacessible#Maybe it's because everyone does everything on phones now?? So it's harder to see the pictures when they're smaller?#Kind of the same thing with ai art and also hair color photoshops lol.. On my full comptuer screen it is SOOO easy to spot ai art#like IMMEDIATELy from the little tells and ways certain details morph into each other etc. I dont even mean obvious dalle mini stuff but#like the Fancy High Quality Photorealistic AI art is still pretty blatant 98% of the time if you know what to look for. But I still catch#people sharing it a lot like 'omg where can I buy this pair of shoes!! :O <3' .. erm you cannot.. that is the most balatantly fake looking#pair of shoes I have seen in my life hhjbj.. the heels are both different heights. there's a different number of straps on each one. etc.#AND that phase back before colored hair was Mainstream and people would post photos like 'omg going to bring this to the salon!! dream hair#and it's like.. you can LITERALLY see the parts where it's 'colored outside of the lines' and is so clearly just a person with blond hair#that someone drew over with a tint brush or something not even very neatly. etc. etc. ANYWAY.. Maybe with phones it's harder to tell these#things?? To me so much of it is instantly recognizable and it's suprising to me that people either don't notice or don't care and will#interact with it anyway by buying the product or acting like some ai art fake furniture is real or etc. etc. ..hewwoo#Aslo sidenote - I think I've become soo cynical and tired of constantly being advertised to that I literally cannot shop without getting#exhausted. I do not see how marketing is anything but obnoxious and transparent. Every item description having stuff like ''Our company is#commited to bringing you the highest quality water products! we set out with a mission to bring high quality products to people all over#the world and we believe in spreading health and happiness and'' just like SHUT THE HELL UP!! youre a fucking company#you don't ''beleive'' in anything you are here to sell a product. stop trying to talk like you're my bff who cares deeply about my health#or something just tell me the materials and product specifications of your stupid fucking water bottle and move on. Idont need to hear your#whole bullshit spiel about what ~your company stands for~ that is SO much MORE offputting. you make me want to buy the item LESS..#longing for the type of ads from my 1800s magazines that are just like 'this product is good. please buy it. okay thank you much. bye'
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Sunday being head of the Oak Family. What if reader is the head of other Family who is trying to act as political opposition? Acting all tough, even hostile, trying to be a strong woman and a leader.
Sunday knows solution and she can be easily fixed!
Reader simply lacks a husband and couple of kids to care for so our benevolent angel Sunday will generously provide it for her, everyone deserves to have family, even bitchy arrogant women like reader.
Thank you thank you!! The content that humiliates arrogant reader is my favorite ><!! I think Sunday will not discipline you immediately, but try to give you a chance…
TW: yandere, non-con, brainwashing, mind control, housewife kink, inappropriate traditional concepts (language about serving husband and family)
Which family are you the leader of? Alfalfa who controls economy, Bloodhound who maintains security, Iris who develops culture and entertainment, or Nightingale who is responsible for construction?
Depending on which family you belong to, your experience may be a little different… If you are the leader of Alfalfa, then it is expected that you will use finances as your leverage against Sunday's leadership, such as refusing to pass some reimbursements. Of course, those are non-essential expenses… but they are quite troublesome, because those are the activities Mr. Sunday wants to organize. If you're a Bloodhound, you can expect to show him your fangs, taunt him, and quietly frame him. If you were Iris, you might make some promotional videos of your own and use some subtle ways to disparage Sunday, knowing that all negative press is banned in Penacony. If you are Nightingale, then you will find some excuse to pause the construct, especially those designs that Mr. Sunday likes.
But no matter which family you are the leader of, you do not hide your hostility and provocation towards Sunday. You were tired of the mask of hypocrisy on his face. He hindered you from becoming the leader and representative of The Family! You repeatedly framed him with conspiracy, sneered in his face, and pushed the atmosphere in the conference room to be tense. Some members have reminded you that there should never be conflicts or disputes among family members. Well, of course you don't want to argue with Mr. Sunday, so you reply perfunctorily. The teachings of Lord Xipe are in our hearts and we just communicate.
Sunday. You feel like he's actually the one adding fuel to the fire. He always stares at you with a kind of pity, condescension, and a perfect smile, as if you are making trouble unreasonably. "Praying for you," he said. "The anger and arrogance in your heart will only serve as thorns to stab you. It is important to learn to bow your head reverently and humbly."
You want to roll your eyes. Of course you believe in Xipe, but you don't want to be in the same family as Sunday. Feeling that there is some strange and terrifying grand truth behind that flawless mask, but you don't want to understand it at all. To live in harmony with such a guy? Maybe it could happen in a few hundred years.
Again. You used some conspiracy to destroy Sunday's reputation. This time… it almost worked, just a little bit. You are not discouraged. You tilt your head in mock innocence and prepare to leave his office. But this time…it seems different. He did not say those admonishing and decent words to you. The sunlight slanted onto the colored glass, and the halo behind it almost made his whole person soft and decent.
"You know, I never like to use strong tactics. Now I know where the problem lies." There was even a faint smile on Sunday's face. "You need to show some proper respect and deference, and you're just one family away from that."
"What are you talking about again?" You frowned, but you couldn't move when you wanted to say the next word. Panic grips your heart. A burst of cheerful and moving tones enter your mind, like a sequenced program. "Come to me." This sentence seems to be singing. You don't know if it's an auditory hallucination or what.
Your body obeyed uncontrollably, and slowly walked to him and knelt down. Get away from him!! Get down on your knees. You met his gaze pitifully and weakly, putting on an expression you didn't normally have. "I'm sorry," you heard yourself apologize. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Sunday. I've been so mean to you."
What are you doing?
"I will serve you with love... my husband." Your hands rested obediently on his knees, like a puppy. You already want to slap yourself. What nonsense are you talking about? "I realize that I am too bossy all the time. Please give me a chance to make it up to you..."
You carefully unzipped his pants and stroked and rubbed his warm cock with your hands. That- what is that- so awful- why is it so hard and long, the head of the cock is standing in front of your face, standing menacingly... A thin mist surrounds your tears. Then you lowered your head submissively and tried your best to take it all in, but it was already pressed against your throat before it was even halfway through. A feeling of nausea, but you still try to do the best you can for your husband.
(The muffled gurgling sounds, the saliva and tears.)
After your wet mouth felt sore, you finally had him gently pull your hair. You wanted to scream, curse him. This thought is like roaring in the wind, but you say. "Isn't this good enough? Please…" Before you could finish, those white thick creams covered your face. "Ah…"
"No. You're doing great. " Sunday caressed your face dotingly, even though your face was now shrouded in humiliation. "We're going to have two beautiful babies. I look forward to seeing you do this every day."
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#sunday x reader#yandere honkai star rail#honkai star rail x you#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#honkai x reader
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✧ lovesick!chifuyu x hyperfem!bimbo reader : A jealous, pining Chifuyu finally gets the courage to approach you after watching you fraternize with Mitsuya ♡
black fem reader, chubby bimbo reader, reader is a fashion girlie! not really mentioned but chifu studies literature, semi-public sex (I think), kinda whiny reader, kind of a shift at the end. lovesick!chifuyu, reader is a maneater not a mean girl! (jk) Mitsuya & Takemichi make an appearance! There’s like one b*ji spoiler, standing doggy, slight choking, pussy eating, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), excuse any mistakes, MDNI
author’s note: for my bby @prtttycocobuttvr 🫶🏾chile this has been in the drafts for idk how long 🥲 extra long for literally no reason, the bulk of it isn’t even the smut…the ending is so abrupt ��� but I really needed this out my drafts
wc: 3.7k
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Every now and then Chifuyu thinks back to the day the two of you met.
He fucking hated you at first, he’s ashamed to admit. Was it really hate though? Could’ve been annoyance, jealousy maybe? A lil bit of both is what he’ll chalk it up to. It was love at first sight for him, meanwhile you never gave a second glance in his direction.
He started seeing you more as the weeks passed, the two of you had no classes together, but he still saw you around far too often. You smelled just like marshmallows or vanilla, something sweet that demanded his attention every single fucking time you strutted past him.
It became a routine—class, cafe and lastly the library where he’d find you doing anything but reading.
Once a quiet safe haven for him to relax with a good book, now overtaken by the clicks and clacks of you touching up your makeup, or the rustle of a potato chip bag while you sit there with your pink Hello Kitty headphones watching some Netflix drama, even the constant sucking and the jumbling of ice as you slurp down every drop of your boba coffee while waiting for your newest minion to finish your homework.
That day was supposed to be no different. You and one of your minions were heading to that same table, around the same time you always arrived. You looked so damn good too. You always did.
He was obsessed with your new hair color, black girl blonde is what he learned it’s called. Ash blonde with dark chocolate roots and it’s just so damn pretty he’s losing his fucking mind. Your face is fresh and bare, no makeup aside from a dark blackish-brown lip liner and gloss. Lashes full and fluffy, you must’ve gotten them filled over the weekend.
His eyes are trailing your every move, waiting for the glimpse of your backside that never came.
“Hiiiii Mitsu & friends!” You leaned down to drape yourself over the lavender’s shoulders. Chifuyu tries to keep his cool, brows furrowed and eyes almost as wide as saucers as he watched this strange display.
And friends? How fucking pathetic is that. Granted, he didn’t know your name either, often referring to you as “that pretty girl” when he spoke about you to Baji’s grave but fuck, that made him feel like shit.
It’s the first time he’s heard that cute voice of yours and it’s when you’re greeting Takashi fucking Mitsuya?? You guys seem well acquainted and it burns Chifuyu up inside, when the fuck did you two get all buddy-buddy? And what the fuck did Mitsuya have that he didn’t?
He wonders who initiated the first contact, wouldn’t be surprised if it was Mitsuya, he’d always had the confidence a loser like him lacked. He was also very good with women, unlike Chifuyu. Then again, you seem very bubbly and outgoing so it very well could’ve been you who approached him.
“Here are those fabric swatches I was telling you about. If you decide to use any just let me know! I have tons of rolls and I can bring you some yards.” You hand him a couple of squares of fabric. At least ten 4x4 squares that you took the time to cut and string on a little o-ring like paint swatches. So cute.
“Thank you, y/n!” He smiles. “I’ll surely let you know.”
Just like that, you’re heading over to your table, minion hot on your heels.
It’s a quick exchange, and it should’ve been harmless, but boy does it boil his blood. God, did you speak to everyone but him?!
“Y/N,” Damn, he learned your name, heard your voice and watched you diss him all in one sitting. It was insane. “You know her?”
“Yeah, we’ve only spoken a few times but she’s super friendly. She’s an exchange student from the states, a fashion major too, we have classes together.” Mitsuya spoke as he sketched out a few designs for a project.
“This would make a nice jacket.” He shows Takemichi the blush pink corduroy square for him to feel. “Maybe pants too if she has enough. It’d look nice on Koko, he’s my model.” “It would! It’s nice and soft, like velvet! Koko’s super pretty too, it’ll look great.”
He steals glances at you every now and then.
“Just talk to her dude, she’s literally so sweet.”
He doesn’t raise his head, still sketching away, but it’s clear who his words are directed to. Mitsuya has known him for quite some time, of course he knew how to read his pragmatic friend.
“Yeah! Unless you’re scared.”
He cuts his eyes at the crybaby blonde. Of course he wasn’t scared, just a bit apprehensive is all.
He looks your way one last time.
Your back is to him and you have your MacBook open in front of you watching a recap of celebrity metgala looks. You’re enamored by your fashion content, even taking notes in your cute notebook with your adorable pom-pom pen. You’re too oblivious—too much of an airhead in your own dumb little world to notice that simp eye fucking you.
Dude’s practically drooling while staring at your tits. It’s disgusting, enraging even. It boiled his blood, so much that he’s scooting his chair back to approach the both of you. Takemichi and Mitsuya watched him with careful eyes, since he didn’t say a word before he made his move. Fuck it, his pride was already shot and he didn’t have shit else to lose.
You didn’t even notice him at first, both airpods in, now staring into your hello kitty shaped compact mirror while reapplying that sticky beauty supply lipgloss all over your plump pout.
Before he could even stop himself he’s snatching up your homework sheet, scanning his eyes over this chump’s work. Wrong. Wrong. Most were either fucking wrong or incomplete! Complete bullshit and he was gonna let you turn that in?!?
“Get the fuck outta here.” He’s speaks so calmly, it’s all the more sinister.
The four-eyed geek is snatching up his bag and calculator so damn fast you’d think Chifuyu had a gun to his head.
It pissed him off so bad! But why did it piss him off so bad?
Probably because you’ve approached everyone but him as if he’s not one of the smartest people on this fucking campus. Probably fucked them all too, so why were you being so damn stingy with him? And why the hell was he so worried about it?
Chifuyu motions to sit down next to you, thighs spread with his hands clasped between them. He run’s his sweaty palms along his pants every now and then, trying to build the courage to speak to you.
You give your lips one last smack, capping your lipgloss and shutting your compact. “Hey, you’re Mitsu’s friend! Do you know where…nevermind. I don’t even remember his name.”
“He said he had something to do, I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.”
“Oh okay. What’s up?” You finally give him your undivided attention, dropping your stuff into your little designer baguette bag, turning in your chair until you’re facing him. You’re almost instantly entranced by those striking eyes, iris’ the color of sea glass. The dark locks of his undercut styled messy and wild. He’s cute. Real cute.
“I like you.” Chifuyu has never been one to beat around the bush, even though his heart was nearly beating out of his chest right about now.
“You don’t know me to like me, so if you wanna fuck me, just say that.”
You say it like it’s nothing. Must be used to it by now, constant fetishizing instead of genuine attraction. But the way he’d been pining over you was much deeper than someone who just wanted a quick fuck. You plagued his mind—his thoughts, all you.
He runs his tongue over his lips, not in a creepy way, but because he’s nervous and they’re dry. Either way you still notice it, it’s kinda hot honestly.
“I do. I mean I would, but I don’t want to-I don’t have to,” He’s stumbling all over his words and it’s fucking embarrassing. Word vomit, is what Mitsuya calls it, it starts and there’s no telling when it stops.
“Regardless, I wanna know you–I think you’re so pretty, I like your style, the way you dress and stuff. And I’ll do your homework, if you want. Or I can actually show you how to do it, cus’ if you turn this garbage in you’re sure to fail.” Chifuyu tosses out. He barely wanted to do his own, so why the fuck was he offering to do yours? Was he that desperate for your attention?
You’re twirling your hair around your finger, head tilted. You’d never had one of them offer to teach you, just always offering to do it just to be in your space.
“Hmmm..so you wanna be my tutor. I guess, but what’s in it for me?”
The blackette could feel his eye start to twitch, there’s no way you were serious. “I’m doing your homework and tutoring you for free, what the fuck else do you want from me?” He scoffs.
Greedy bitch.
“Boy please, I can have any of these other guys doing my homework. You obviously want something from me and I just wanna know what you’ll offer me in return.”
“I don’t want anything from you, I’just want you.”
You stare at him and he stares back, that adorable face of his morphed into a slight pout. He holds eye contact the entire time, it’s almost intimidating, but his aura is so light and genuine.
He’s a strange boy, you’ve concluded, but it’s intriguing.
“Why?”
“I don’t fuckin know,” He truly doesn’t know, you’re just a dumb girl he happened to see at school. Not the first and definitely not the last, but you’ve been on his mind since he first laid eyes on you. “But I like you, a lot. I’ll do whatever you want.”
He was infatuated and he didn’t know why.
You divert your eyes, tapping your puffball of your pen against the wooden table. “What if I want you to fuck me?”
There’s a pause, you look at him and he looks at you before he sucks his teeth. “You’re joking.” Even still, he feels the blood rushing from his cheeks to his cock.
“You said whatever I want.” He needs to make sure he heard that correctly. Was it a test? A prank? Because you’re obviously just fucking with him. “But if it’s too forward, we can just study I guess.”
He’s silent and so are you but the way he’s boring into your soul makes you wish you never brought it up at all. “You serious?”
You nod, batting your fluffy mink lashes at him and as lame as it sounds, that’s all it took.
Next thing he knew, Chifuyu was eating his crush’s pussy in one of the private study rooms. He’s almost embarrassed at how quickly he fell to his knees, eager to slurp on your pretty, plump cunt.
The library is old. One of the oldest buildings on campus, hasn’t been renovated since it was built. A private study room was the perfect place—just a windowless, concrete box where no one could see or hear you leaned on your back with your feet in the air while he sucked on your pussy.
Your clit is juicy and suckable, the pink nub catches his attention the minute he slid your panties down and spread your thighs open.
He’s used to keeping his face stuffed in a book back here, now he’d much rather have his face stuffed between your thighs every second of the day.
You’re a sight to see right now, tits spilling out from under your top, panties looped around one of your ankles and your skirt is flipped up and out of the way, away from the mess he’s making between your thighs.
He’s so messy with it, spitting on it and slurping it back up, licking stripes up your sweet pussy until your clit is peeking out of its hood.
“So good.” He breathes out, spreading you wider. From your hole, all the way up and back down again, his tongue leaves no part of your cunt untouched. He’s dragging up one last time before sucking your cute little clit between his lips, running his hands up and down your plush thighs and belly.
After a while you lean up and your shaky hands manage to pry those supple pink lips away from your clit, his lips leaving your pussy with a loud, wet ‘pop’. “Waittt, I never got your name.” You whined.
As if names, or lack there of, had ever stopped you. But you desperately wanted to know his and you wanted to scream it when you came—which would be very soon if he kept sucking on your clit like that.
He’s gazing up at you with those dazzling seafoam green eyes, silvery strands of your slick still connected to his lips when he pulls away from your pussy.
“Chif-fuck...” He’s huffing and puffing trying to catch his breath, resting his head on your thigh for a moment. Your hand is running through his hair, back and forth petting motions until his breathing slowed. “Chifuyu. Matsuno..Chifuyu.”
He rarely gave his full name, at least not to people he held no respect for. But you were different, he just knew you were. He’d never been this intrigued by another person since middle school when he met the infamous Baji.
“Chi-fu-yu. Chif-uyu.”
You test it on your tongue, wanting to get every syllable right. It makes him fucking melt, the sound of his name flowing from your glossy lips is so pretty. Fuck, he needed to hear you moaning, screaming and babbling it like a little slut. His little slut.
He wastes no time pressing his lips back to your pussy, licking thick stripes up and down, fat tongue relentlessly teasing your entrance and dragging back up to your clit.
“F-fuck how are you so good at this..” It catches you off guard. His head is sloppy and nasty, but not too wet with just enough teasing to drive you insane. It’s almost as if he’d been acquainted with your pussy before this, but you know there’s no way.
You barely notice how your body subconsciously rocks against him, rubbing your pussy up and down his face, your clit bumping his little button nose every single time.
Your question falls on deaf ears.
The once bright-eyed boy is now staring at you, his eyes alarmingly low and glossed over as he loses himself.
He’s too far gone now, lost in absolute bliss between your thighs—the taste of your gooey, sticky cunt, your moans, the feel of your thighs trembling. Pussydrunk wasn’t even the word.
He lets you use him. Lets his tongue hang slack against his chin for you to grind your puffy clit against it. His face is wet and sticky and he’s covered up to his cheeks in your slick. He can barely breathe, you’re rocking far too fast for him to get a breath in, but even still Chifuyu would eat your pussy until he was blue in the face if it meant pleasing you.
Every inhale is laced with your scent and it’s like an aphrodisiac. Everything about this was so perfect. He can feel the shivers running up and down your body—you’re close, he knows it and that’s when he gets relentless.
“G-nna cum for you baby..can I cum?”
Christ, the way his dick jumped should’ve been a sin. Chifuyu hums against your clit, groans his approval so his lips don’t have to abandon your perfect pussy again. You can feel every single lick & suck and even the puffs of air he breathes out of his nose as he slurps on your cunt, teasing your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming Chifuyu. Mmm, I’m cumming. Chifu-”
Your climax hits you like a punch to the gut, knocks the wind out of you and has you doubling over with your hands tangled in his dark locks, your trembling thighs squeezing against his neck.
Your moans and pants are so sexy, he loves you like this. You don’t even realize you’re running from him until he grips your hips tighter, pulling you forward and holding you taut.
He’s desperate to drink up all you’ll give him, thick tongue gliding over your hole before he’s shoving it inside. Not a drop of your lovely essence goes to waste as you let him get his fill.
The chime of the desk phone startles you and forces him to part from your cunt. He looks at you and you look at him, you make no move to get it forcing him to.
“Chifuyu!” The librarian calls, he frequents this place so often that the two of them have gotten quite familiar. “Sorry to bother you and your girlfriend, but the library closes soon-“ She’s checking her watch. “In about ten minutes hun.”
“Ah, okay! Thank you Miss and she’s not-” When he catches the dial tone he places the phone back on the receiver.
“She says we have ten minutes until the library closes.”
Before he can even finish, you’re already on your knees shoving his joggers and underwear down in one swift move. His dick is gorgeous—thick with a pretty pink tip. You’re not sure about the size, seven maybe seven and a half inches. Either way, it fills your mouth perfectly, big and heavy on your tongue as you lick the precum dripping from the tip.
The minute he feels your mouth on him he nearly loses all control, knees threatening to give. Chifuyu grips your jaw, popping his cock out of your mouth with an audible ‘pop.’
He notices a dip in between your brows. A frown?
A pouty frown on your pretty face accompanied by a roll of your eyes. So cute.
“Chifuuu,” You whining his name is tearing him apart inside, staring up at him with those doe eyes. “We only have 10 minutes. I wanna make you cum.”
He’s pulling you back up, spinning you until your ass is pressed against his crotch.
“I know pretty…I’m gonna fuck you.” His voice is breathy, desperate. “That okay?”
It’s soft but he hears it. The soft ‘yeah’ tumbling from your lips, the small gasps of anticipation as you raise up on your tip toes to meet his height. He’s sliding his length through the junction of your thighs, coating himself in your slick.
It’s so good, this little crevice between your thighs and cunt feels like heaven. Like the warmest hug embracing him with every push and pull of his hips.
He has to force himself to pull away. He wouldn’t be able to face you again if he came from fucking your thighs.
Blunt fingertips melt into the plush flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks to watch as he slides past the tight ring of your entrance, a loud squelch greeting him when he bottoms out.
You’re the epitome of enticing, a pretty bitch with a perfect pussy, and honestly he feels undeserving. He feels his infatuation for you growing deeper, except this is something he wants, no, needs forever.
He’s so gentle, stroking slow and stretching you out just right cus it’s a tight fit.
Despite the wetness dripping down your thighs, you feel every single inch of him. The burn of the stretch, the slight ache as he kisses your cervix with every clumsy thrust. Your pussy feels so good around him, like it was made for him. Made to take his dick.
“I didn’t—I didn’t think you’d be so b-big.”
Snaking his hands around your neck, he’s pulling you up so your back meets his chest, rolling his hips so the thick head of his dick mushes against the gummy walls of your g-spot. Your legs are trembling but he holds you up. Heavy breaths against your ear as his chin rests on your shoulder.
“Mmm, yeah? You don’t think much of me at all, do you? Think you’re too good for me?”
“Noooo! I don’t think that.” He’s not letting up, stroke after stroke, until you’re creaming all over him, and even then, he still doesn’t stop. “W-would never… think that.”
The thick white fluids settling at the base of his cock, the slick gush of your pussy every time he fucked into you. It was driving you mad.
“I don’t exist in your world,” Thrust after thrust. “But you consume mine, I want you so bad.”
Your brain is fuzzy, just barely able to make out what he’s saying. “I-ah want you tooo…y’know just h-how to handle me baby.”
“Yeah,” He breathes out. “Of course I do.”
You’re not sure if it’s the sureness in his voice or the sweet kiss he presses against the bare skin behind your ear that sends you over the edge but your climax hits you like a train carrying the sweetest bliss. You don’t utter a word, just deep breaths and pants, a quiet belt of his name towards the end as you melt into him with every buck of his hips. He feels it—the spasms, the trembling, the cozy warmth you coat him in, an impromptu reminder that he’s unprotected inside of you. Still, he fucks you through it, just until he’s close enough-
“F-f-fuuuck.” The groan rips through his throat as he reaches his end, the grip on your neck loosens as he pushes you down and spills his seed all over the cheeks of your ass.
He’s so unprepared it’s a shame, forced to use the inside of his turtleneck to clean the mess he made, even going as far as to place you up on the table and wipe between your thighs.
“Oh you didn’t have to- I have wipes..”
“No big deal, didn’t wanna dirty your skirt. You made this, right?” He rubs the hem of the frayed pink denim, recall’s seeing a square of this same fabric on the ring you gave Mitsuya.
“I-I did. How did you know?”
“I remember seeing you sketching it out. Glad it turned out nice enough for you to wear. It’s cute..” He trails off when you avert your gaze.
“Thank you. I’m glad too…” You trail off and you avert your gaze.
“Don’t go acting shy on me, y/n.” It’s the first time you’ve seen it, something akin to a smile on his cute little face, his eyes are as bright as stars as he stares down at you. It’s odd, almost as if the roles had changed.
“I’m not!” You whine. “It’s just strange, you’re strange Chifuyu.”
#black reader#chubby reader#black fem reader#black!reader#plus size reader#chifuyu x black reader#chifuyu matsuno x reader#chifuyu x black!reader#chifuyu matsuno#chifuyu x reader#tokyo rev x you#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo rev smut#tokyo revengers x black reader#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev x black reader#tokyo revengers x black!reader#tokyo revengers#black coded#x black reader#black!y/n#black!fem!reader#Hentye Hottie 🌸
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Charlie Redesign!
I want charlie to look super out of place in Hell. I wanted her color palette to resemble the sky, as the sky can symbolize infinity and is usually associated with the place gods reside, high above it all. The main point is looking super out of place in Pride, which will carry over to Vaggie. I made her colors bright because i can’t be bothered to alter the colors of Viv’s hell to dull it down and from the trailer it doesn’t seem like shading is that important. Not shitting on that btw, i hate shading my drawings.
The way I imagine this version of Charlie is that she helps do the paperwork side of things, since Viv’s hell is just earth but red, I'm just assuming her heaven will be similar. Charlie helps schedule things, she’s kind of a secretary and works under Adam to help make sure the Exterminations go smoothly. She takes stock of weapons, sees what was lost, tallies up the total deaths, general stuff like that, you feel me? She doesn’t like the Exterminations; she thinks it’s horrific and that the people in hell ought to have a chance to come to heaven.
So it’s basically the exact same plot as before and her personality is the same because Charlie was the only character i liked from the pilot the others all had something that threw the vibes off slightly. Charlie’s relationship with Alastor will be a little different, because he’s one of her benefactors. He wants to watch the pretty little angel’s plans crash and burn, and she is determined to prove him wrong. Side note while I'm thinking of him, I’m changing the overlords – they aren’t sinners that got powers because sinners don’t have powers in this version. Well, no, they are sinners, just sinners that made contracts with demons and gained favor with hell during their lives, earning their own place in the hierarchy of hell. Speaking of which, it goes: Sinners, Overlords, Hellborn, Ars Goetia, Princes/Seven Sins. Overlords are given the power to torture other sinners (so it makes sense that Valentino makes Angel’s life miserable, it’s his job to torment other sinners)
Once the show actually drops, I might add more benefactors in my rewrite. Like, since Alastor is backing Charlie, the cannibals from cannibal colony will be friendly towards her, things like that. Hell, maybe Val backs her, idk don’t want to jump the shark.
Either way, i think Charlie being an angel sets her up for a better character arc with her naivete and attitude towards sinners. Also i think my design for her is literally beautiful she’s so pretty, she’s my baby i love her. And for the sake of making things easier, i fused her little goats Razzle and Dazzle with the key cat KeeKee because i think having three cute little pets is too many and R/D didn’t really do anything in the pilot. I’ve doodled them a bit, haven’t settled on a design yet. In my mind this little kitty is a cherub thing that Husk adores as his first hint of not being a complete ass.
Any who. That is all.
#anti vivziepop#vivziepop critical#hazbin hotel criticism#hazbin hotel redesign#hazbin hotel critical#hazbin charlie#ignore her fucked up hand i got lazy oopsies
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I feel like out of the kings, if Mc wore makeup, Satan, Beelzebub, and maybe Lucifer would be the most into seeing how much they can mess it up during sex. Like, I imagine Satan would find it particularly hot if Mc got angry at him for it if they put a lot of effort into their look. As for Bell I feel like he'd just like seeing mc's debauched face and licking off their flavored lip gloss. Plus I feel like he'd like seeing their lipstick marks on him Lucifer I think would particularly like seeing mcs mascara streaking down their cheeks as they cry.
I totally agree with you !
Here you have my headcanons + some other ideas.
𝗪𝗛𝗕
𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗡 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗭𝗘𝗕𝗨𝗕 𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗥
"𝗥𝗨𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗨𝗣"
GN! Reader + No mentions of Gender-Specific anatomy.
𝗖𝗪
Dacryphilia, Hair Pulling, Spanking (Satan)
Spit kink, Humiliation, Degradation, brief mentions of food, A very messy hc. (Beelzebub)
Dacryphilia, Choking, Fingering, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Cursing. (Lucifer)
𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗡
✧ Why is he turned on by you putting so much effort into doing your makeup?
✧ Why does that eyeshadow color that compliments your eyes so nicely have him having all kinds of wild thoughts? And that beautiful color you used for your lips? They suddenly look so desirable, so kissable.
✧ Satan suddenly has the urge to tease you, and ruining that pretty makeup look you just did with such effort sounds like a great idea, the best that could happen? and you getting mad at him, just the thought of that has him with his dick straining his pants.
—
"D-do you know ..." you sob "How long did it take for m-me to get my makeup done?"
Satan had his left hand holding your cheeks while the other one had a strong grip on your waist "Oh Really? Tell me more about it" he suddenly stopped his thrusts against your hole "Your pretty makeup is all ruined" he teases you "fucked this hole so good, you're such a mess right now "
The frustration of feeling that the aggressive movements of his hips against your hot body had stopped, plus the rage that your carefully applied makeup had been totally ruined thanks to a certain person getting horny out of nowhere, all of that had you completely enraged at the one who was currently on top of you looking at you with a shit-eating grin
Suddenly Satan grabs you by the hips and turns your body, leaving your head pushed against the mattress thanks to his hands grabbing your hair harshly. With another hand Satan pushes your hips upwards leaving your ass up "It bothers you, doesn't it? You must be so frustrated" he keeps teasing you, and with the most annoying smirk you've ever seen, Satan leaves a strong spank on your right asscheek and smashes his dick inside you hard, trying to make you feel every inch of it entering you.
The force of his movements leaves you breathless, the backs of your legs are red from the impact of his body against yours, and traces of your makeup are smeared against the sheets, and that only makes Satan get harder, if that's possible.
"Get mad at me all you want, the more you get upset, the more I'm going to rail you."
𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗭𝗘𝗕𝗨𝗕
✧ Your lips for Beelzebub are one of his most exquisite tastes, and that they could taste even better seemed impossible.
✧ Since he entered the room he can smell a particular odor coming from his favorite food, your lips, a rather pleasant smell, will it taste the same as it smells?
✧ Now just a little makeup turned him on, and all Beelzebub wants to do is eat you, in many different ways.
How would this nice lipstick look like staining his cock while you suck it? how would his body look full of lipstick marks?
—
How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? You don't know, the only thing that is perfectly clear to you is that Beelzebub's tongue inside your mouth seems to have been there forever, you have never felt a more nasty and messy kiss like this one, your saliva and his are running down the corner of your mouth, reaching your chin and letting a thin trickle fall on your chest.
"you make me believe you put on this delicious lipstick just for me" Bell takes your jaw with his hand and licks your now-closed lips "You must love getting ruined by me, what a slut" His humiliating actions towards you have your underwear wet with excitement, which is reflected in your face and Beelzebub notices it.
With his unoccupied hand, Beelzebub takes your flavored lipstick from the nightstand and opens it with his mouth and he squishes your cheeks together with the other hand. "Open that pretty mouth of yours" You do as he says and he starts to apply lipstick messily, leaving your lips and the skin surrounding them glistening with the glossy product "So pretty, is like putting frosting on a cupcake" he licks your lips softly.
You felt so humiliated, but so aroused at the same time, from Beelzebub's messy kisses all over your face to his hard dick pressing against your bare thigh, everything was so nasty.
"Now, how about you spread all that lipstick all over me? It's not fair that you get all the kisses, I want some too" Beelzebub says with a fake pout and removes his hand from your face and places it on his clothed cock while getting your body closer to his, pressing his lips to your ear "I also want your tongue all over me"
𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗥
✧ He's delusional, he would believe that you got your makeup done because of him, and would get hard by that though.
✧ Is makeup waterproof ? he doubts it, that's why he's been watching you for a long time waiting for you to finish your makeup and leave the room to check that the products you used on your eyes are not waterproof, or better yet, tear-proof.
✧ When he realizes that it's not waterproof, Lucifer is willing to do anything to see your makeup running down your face because of your tears, he should stop thinking about it or he will get even more excited.
—
"You can do better" Lucifer has you bent over his lap, two of his fingers rapidly moving in and out of your entrance while his unoccupied hand leaves hard slaps on your ass.
"I can't !" You whine and he takes your hair with his hands and pulls it so he can see your face, he swears to everything that his dick got even harder if it was possible, and small streaks of what used to be your undereye eyeliner were spilling down your cheeks because of the small tears that were peeking out of the sides of your eyes.
Lucifer couldn't take it anymore, he needed everything from you, his dick was already hurting from how hard it was and you weren't even sobbing, there was still so much left to ruin from you.
Quickly, Lucifer grabs you by the hips and throws you face down on the bed, and without giving you time to process the situation, he positions your hips up and buries his big dick in you in a single hard thrust "F-fuck you !" you scream when he enters you, feeling all 12 inches inside you, lucifer takes your hair and pulls it until he lifts your body and your back is against his chest.
At this point your face was completely wet with tears, Lucifer was completely railing you, his cock was ruining you from how hard he was fucking you, and it didn't help that his hand was wrapped around your neck, making sure you both kept eye contact, Lucifer wanted to see every tear run down your face, sometimes he licked them and then kissed you, and other times he rubbed them on your face, further ruining your make up.
"Cum one more time for me, because this is not ending until I say so"
...
Sorry for my lack of updates, one of my dogs just had eye surgery and I've been really stressed, she's better now tho so I'm definitely more relaxed.
Happy Holidays for everyone! And hope y'all have an amazing 2024
#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in “hell” is bad?#whb#whb beelzebub#whb leviathan#whb mammon#whb satan#what in hell is bad x reader#whb smut#whb lucifer#whb lucifer x reader#whb headcanons
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